Shut-Off and Shut-Out: Going Tech-Free For a Day
Have you considered how much of your life is defined by the technology you rely on every day? During a recent power outage, I found out just how much mine is.
A couple of nights ago in Northern Colorado, we were gifted with a humongous spring storm that started as rain and ended with a foot and a half of snow on the ground. Actually, snow in May is not all that uncommon here, but given that we had just had a couple of days in the 80’s - this arctic blast required a substantial shift in attitude. What started out as a somewhat inconvenient weather event turned out to be an exercise in the re-discovery of life
We live outside of Fort Collins, CO in a canyon carved out by the Cache La Poudre river (pronounced locally as poo-der). Living in a rural mountain area provides numerous upside features like gorgeous rocky mountain landscapes, fewer neighbors, wildlife in your front yard, and best of all, a river to fish in just across the road. Some downsides of mountain living include the threat of forest fires, isolation from emergency services, and wildlife that can eat you (mountain lions and bears, oh my!). We also rely on electricity to run the pump for our well so we can have running water, propane to fuel our furnace, and satellite dishes to provide internet and TV. Being in a canyon eliminates cell coverage and so we have to use a land line for telephone service. When all systems are “go”, it is wonderful and we absolutely love it here!
Not only did I find myself cut-off from the rest of the civilized world, I found myself cut-off from the minute-to-minute attention demands that being continuously plugged in provides (just to be clear, “attention demands” is a euphemism for distractions). For the first time in more years than I care to count, I actually stared out the window and just watched it snow! I watched the dark-eyed juncos forage all over the thistle and black-oil sunflower feeders. I made sure the early arriving hummingbirds had fresh nectar to feed on throughout the day to keep their energy up to stave off the cold. One of the numerous red foxes we see also stopped by looking for stray seed or more likely, a distracted bird.
I sat quietly alone with my own thoughts…. not the random, scroll-through-the-newsfeed thoughts that Facebook delivers. I read over 100 pages of an amazing book called “Start With Why” by Simon Sinek (thankfully, it wasn’t available as an e-book). I scratched my dog, Cache behind the ears for longer than he thought was ever possible (and he still wanted more). Best of all, my wife and I would look up from our books from time to time and have random conversations that weren’t interrupted by texts, TV commercials, email alerts, or phone calls. I think I already mentioned the huddled up under the blankets part?
Eventually the fearless linemen of our rural electric co-op restored power to our section of the canyon around 7 p.m. The furnace roared to life; our microwave oven beeped, our fridge whirred back to life with the distinctive crash of a fresh batch of ice cubes falling into the bin. While I was relieved we wouldn't have to see how cold our cabin would get with an expected overnight low of 15 degrees, I found myself a little disappointed that the solitude and isolation to which I had resigned myself ended as abruptly as it began.
Another question popped into my head: Do you think there’s an iPad app that can create 24 hour power outages and vehicle failures on demand? I hope so... I really, really hope so.
Comments(31)