Falling Off the Planet

A little less than a week ago, my entire cyber-existence came to a screeching halt. While watching the NBA playoffs on the big screen and tracking stats and stuff on my laptop, something went seriously, tragically and terminally wrong. The very heart of my laptop stopped with a DNR toe-tag attached. The Dell was terminally phased.

While realizing this is an everyday occurrence in the life of most people exposed to the marvels of technology, fortunately for me this was the first time I've ever experienced the demise of a hard-drive. Coming on as suddenly as it did caused me to realize how "quickly life can change!" In the "twinkling of an eye" all can be right with the world and then suddenly all is wrong! One would think given my penchant for motorcycling, I would have a stronger awareness of such vulnerability.

Here I sit, nearly a week later after having fallen off the electronic planet. Cut-off from cyber-existence, the first 48 hours were the worst. I was like an addict craving his next hit. Sitting in my office I would turn to my side desk to send an email or Google search something and find myself reaching for a phantom computer. My connection to the outside world as vacant and void. I am here to testify it was downright horrible! "Am I that addicted and dependent on technology?" I queried. Painfully the reply was affirmative. But if I am so addicted, everyone else with whom I communicate frequently must be equally so! But that doesn't make it right.

I had to do some writing shortly after the disk's "funeral" and realized the patterned behavior of typing words rather than hand writing them has secretly crept into my creative process. Like a cold-turkey smoker leaving cigarettes behind, I found it difficult to find words using an old fashioned pen and paper. it was as if my mind has attached itself to the ends of my fingers. Has the sound of clicking keys and the glow of an LCD screen become that much a part of my creative landscape that it is difficult to create without it? Interesting, isn't it?

Through this electronic sabbatical, I also learned a fine lesson in the art of backing up documentation. Thanks to our excellent Minister of Technology and the computer support contractors working with our ministry group, all of my important data was saved. I did lose my list of "Favorites," but it was coming time to clear those out anyway. I'll consider the occasion a "Spring Cleaning" of sorts.

Many lessons learned in the past week to pass along: 1) Sometimes it is healthy to disengage from technology (my wife actually enjoyed spending time with me without a laptop sitting between us); 2) Human communication is actually enhanced when you have to get up, walk across the floor and talk face-to-face with someone; 3) If data is important enough to you, you'll make sure it is appropriately and intentionally backed up. If you don't back it up, it probably isn't that important to you; and finally, 4) Give thanks for the technology available to us. This is an increasingly amazing time to be alive.

Addicted or not, it is nice to be back on the planet!