Lightning pummeled our area, accompanied by a deafening chorus of thunder. As I sat at my desk one bolt came close enough to create a spark on the metal window frame. The sound waves nearly levitated me from my chair. With that rowdy display Mother Nature severed my umbilical cord from the internet. I was no longer able to reach www.anything_or_anyone. untethered, free-floating, on my own. Out of touch.
Five hours have passed and I’m feeling withdrawal. I’m startled to realize I’ve become hooked on a regular pulse of internet fixes. Whether it is to check on friends, to gather information for a project, to post on my blog or to log onto my corporate site I depend on the internet for my connection to the outside world.
My work—family coaching and writing—is accomplished at home and for the most part in solitude. I am surprised to realize how I’ve come to depend on the web to replenish myself with an infusion of connectivity. The social networks I formerly judged as silly have become a channel for staying in touch with the geographically scattered tribes of which I am a member. In the absence of the proverbial water-cooler, the net has provided me with a virtual coffee-break where I banter, tease, collaborate, intrigue and console.
As I reflect, this interruption in “virtuality” provides an opportunity to create both a new appreciation and some limitation on my trips on the internet. To traverse the threads of the Web without getting stuck on a hamster wheel of distractions, requires discipline. I’ve decided to add “Cruise Director” to the many hats I wear. Much to my hubby’s chagrin; it’s another unpaid position.
I know somebody forwarded an e-mail that demonstrates how to cure an “allergy to a paycheck.” I’ll print it out for St. George as soon as my internet service gets restored.
After several phone calls, a trip to comcast and installing new equipment, I am reconnected–obviously–and once again speeding down my virtual highway. Checking in, checking up and moving on.