A few months ago, the Internet went down at work, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. Before we moved into our new house, I wondered what I would do if our wireless connection wasn’t installed soon.
Sometimes it feels like the Internet is my lifeblood.
Don’t get me wrong, I am all for playing outside in the fresh air or sitting down with a good book. But when it comes to being productive, or at least feeling that way, the Internet does the trick. Even at work when I need to write something, I intermittently stop and research on the Internet or make sure I didn’t miss an e-mail. Commenter No. 1 on this blog post “Your Brain on Google” does the same thing.
Our lives revolve around having the right information to move forward. If I’m looking for a good lunch spot or want to know how to kill the ants invading my house or how to do lame but useful exercises in my chair at work, the Internet is my omniscient source of advice and inspiration.
Society functioned just fine before this beast called the Web was thrust upon us. Nothing beats face-to-face conversation or even a phone call. I relish the good old days, even the ones from before I was born. The ones where my parents had two sets of clothes total and no TV, cell phone or anything electric really. The ones where you didn’t isolate yourself in a cave called your laptop and where you enjoyed life and were quite resourceful and knew your neighbors and didn’t have an excess of belongings that you barely even used.
I endeavor to find and live a healthy balance, using my Internet for efficiency and convenience while still exploring the light of day and the people out there during more than just during the car ride home or to the store.
Like the time a bunch of us had a barbecue and played ultimate Frisbee outside in the damp grass and slid around and had to take our shoes off. Or the time we’ve spent in the garden harvesting crops for dinner. Or the time in Mexico we cut grass as tall as our chests with gargantuan machetes. Or the time in India our cousins made balls from coconut leaves and we’d throw and kick them around as the goats maaahed and the cows crunched the grass.
Life becomes more worth living when you realize or get a true glimpse of the human situation. When you see past your friend’s façade and realize they are struggling, and when you can relate. When you get somewhere and have no idea how you humanly got there but you’re glad you did. When you feel indescribable joy and someone else shares that intense feeling that makes you realize there are things out there bigger than you and me.
Dear Internet, you have your place in my day-to-day routine, but I’m on a journey that’s taking me beyond the tippety-tap of my keyboard, around the world and into something gloriously unpredictable and more than unbelievably satisfying.