I'm in Maine for the rest of the week, and though the wonders of technology have made it as far as the beautiful lake where I'm visiting my folks, the only Internet access is dialup. Dialup which is so slow that I literally cannot use my web-based email--with patience, I can open an email and read it, but I believe I could paddle the length of the lake and back before I'd be able to get the "reply to" feature to open and load.
So here I am, having to face how used to feeling busy and important I am, and how little able to slow down and just be I've become. No high-speed Internet! No email! What a scandal! Oh dear oh dear, however shall I live?
More slowly, and that's clearly the trouble. Having been here for less than 48 hours, I'm already itching to gear up--surf my favorite blogs, leave "insightful" comments everywhere, keep up a lively stream of email correspondence (again, so, so insightful!)and top it off with a trip downtown to cruise used bookstores, a couple of long phone conversations with friends, and an hour or two at the local roller skating rink, skating to pop music with a spinning disco ball overhead.
Instead, I'm stuck here in paradise, with Dickens' Bleak House, Barclay's Apology, my drop spindles, a generous hammock, a shining lake, and the call of loons. All winter long I whined about needing time to just sit. Time to sit, to read, to think, to be...
Now I've got it, and where am I? Here in the cabin, trying to force my way back into the virtual world of non-stop instant access through a rusty old dial-up modem and a creaking antique computer. What does that say about who I've let myself become?
So--I'm gonna go outside and play, now. With real dirt and real rocks and real water. I'm gonna take a paddle, take a walk, take a swim, or just plain take a nap. I know in my head that people move too fast, and have forgotten to leave spaces in our lives for things like lapping waves and the sounds of hummingbird wings. Perhaps I can take advantage of the frustration of being bereft of my DSL, and know someplace stronger and deeper than my head how to be Simple again--at least for a couple of days.
Right. The lake awaits. See you this weekend, all.