Utterly Unplugged

When was the last time you unplugged?

When was the last time you unplugged?

In a typical day I wake up, check my email, use the facilities and feed the cats - in that order. Then, depending upon the day, I may spend hours on the phone or internet and of course regularly checking email. On days that I facilitate a workshop, I maintain the morning ritual, then go off grid until the workshop is complete. At the end of most days I squeeze in a little time with my DVR. That's a lot of time plugged in!

For in-country vacations I loosen the electronic tether, with more space from the phone and lap top, and I eliminate television. When out of the country, I am occasionally disabled by a faulty internet connection, and the phone sits in my suit case. But still, I use the internet to search for things to do, check my webmail, maybe post a photo to Facebook. Once, I created and sent the mid-month Collaborative event announcement from the Dominican Republic. That exercise proved painful enough to avoid attempting again!

For most of my life - longer than the web and email were common place - I've been self-employed. In days of old, I was armed with a pager and a phone card, because, while cell phones were becoming more common, they would NOT fit in everyone's back pocket (remember the soft suitcases they came in?). I admire people who go home or on holiday and shut down their email and business voicemail. For me, shutting one down means turning it all off, because having only one email address and phone number creates inherent crossover.

Until recently, I can't remember ever truly unplugging for more than 48 hours. Turns out, the universe conspired to grant me a reprieve, whether I desired it or not.

While on my "Best Date" in Costa Rica, I found myself unable to make any outgoing calls. Neither could I access my webmail or internet of any kind. This proved a challenge when I needed to reach out to the woman designated to take me to my humble abode. Once I managed to connect with my house hostess, I arrived in a land with WiFi, if not good cell service...or so I thought.

As I settled into my cabin in the rainforest, I plugged in the router and waited for the magic machine to connect me with my virtual world...and then I rebooted my computer...and then I turned both systems off and on again...and I attempted to turn on my phone's data roaming as a means for virtual connection. Nothing worked.

I had lights, hot water, my iPod and the ability to text as necessary, but I could make no outgoing calls and all things related to the internet became inaccessible to me.

But WAIT!!!! All of my research notes and links for my retreat exploration were in my email. How would I call about the turtle tour or any other place I wanted to see? True, I could have found an internet cafe, or even bought a cup of tea from one of the many restaurants advertising WiFi, but I realized I was being served an opportunity. I'd been tapped on the shoulder about unplugging before, I'd even had the occasional hip check. I decided, accepting this invitation for an electronic fast would be preferable to metaphorically burning my house down until I got the message.

As a result of my virtual hiatus (with the exception of texts with my husband to remind each other that we were still alive and sending love across the ethers), I re-discovered some fascinating things.

  1. I could complete exactly the research I needed by talking to people face to face - what a concept!

  2. It's enjoyable to switch my routine and barely touch my laptop for seven days, except to do a little writing.

  3. I love not being able to call anyone, even if I think I want to.

  4. I am still able to confound my own beliefs - for example: the "unexpectedly going dark" experience might have been truly frustrating, and instead, I benefited from a sense of peace and connection with the actual world, both rich and abundant.

If it's been a while since you've been unplugged, give it a go! Notice what enters the space currently filled with gadgets and hashtags (I learned lots, too much to fit into this article). Allow the silence to remember who you are, free of electronic constraints - you might like what you find - I did!

With love and vulnerability,
Joanne Lutz

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