A Camelia Shaped Hole in the World?

There is something to be said about the virtues of life off-line.

For a week in lovely La Saladita, Mexico, I experimented with the concept of being completely disconnected from the internet and phone and I immersed myself in the immediate reality. I have to say:  for someone who works and practically lives online, there were almost no withdrawal symptoms.

Of course, it helped that I was in the great company of my better half, on a clean, quiet beach away from the hustle and bustle of a city (or even village), with a great long wave to continue my  pursuit of standing on a surfboard and three books.

The result: books were read, conversations were had, naps were taken (ah, the sweet naps), food was eaten (lots of it) and Spanish was spoken. Perhaps the most surprising result of this trip was the discovery, upon return and due plug-in, that NOTHING HAD CHANGED. Not the bad things (Deepwater Horizon still spilling, Iran still enriching away), not the good things (our plants still alive, the apartment not burnt down, friends still recognize us), not the other things (memos still need to be sent, mail still needs to be sorted).  Just Facebook is looking a little more dull.

“Of course!” you’ll say. “What did you think would happen in a week?”

But this feeling that the online and offline world goes on without you, whether you’ve voluntarily or involuntarily absconded from it, this feeling is eerie. In a way, it’s almost like a preview of how the world would unfold in my absence if the great eraser in the sky worked my stick figure out of the great scheme. There would be nothing left behind me.  Dried apple cores and postcards.  

I'm humbled. And tanned. :-)