While our television and Internet connections were kaput for five days, Earl and I had a lot of time on our hands. Time that people spent doing other things before the dawn of 200 television channels and instant messaging. Before Fox trademarked the phrase “fair and balanced” and Google provided information at one’s fingertips. Before, say, 1993, the year I first signed up for cable TV and AOL.
We went to dinner, not only as a means of obtaining sustenance but also as a means of talking, relaxing, taking our time as there was no TV program to race home for. We did a couple crossword puzzles together, something we did regularly when we first met.
Earl began reading the stack of magazines that resembles an end table next to the family room couch, while I read a book cover to cover. My piano and I became better acquainted. We watered our plants more faithfully and watched the evening skies over the river. It was peaceful, I must admit. It also made me realize how technology has taken over our lives.
The first thing I do most mornings, even before brushing my teeth, is to check my email to see what has come in over the virtual transom since the day before. If I’m not careful, I even begin responding; and the next thing I know an hour has gone by.
It’s true some of that hour is taken with business emails, so one could say I was getting a jump start on my work day. At the same time, work becomes invasive when it can be initiated at an email’s notice. And, since I work from home and rely on email to get reports or directives from others in the company, there is the constant temptation to see if any new notes have come in.
I don’t do this just in the morning either. I do it whenever I’ve been away from the house for a while and after dinner and, yes, before going to bed. In contrast, those days without the Internet reminded me that I can control my free time and probably get more done, if I only checked email once or twice a day at predetermined times. So I decided to limit my time on the Internet in the hope of maintaining balance in my life and brushing my teeth without distraction. Perhaps my piano and my flowers and maybe even my library of unread materials will eventually thank me in the deal too.
In a way I have the recent breakdown in Internet communication to thank for this insight.
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