My computer taking a nap in the sun.
About a week ago I came onto the deck to watch the sunrise and to experience my usually solitary routine. But that day something felt wonderfully different. My computer was in the kitchen, not on the deck. There was no artificial light reminding me that cyberspace power was waiting, no “bing” to indicate I had email, and no temptation to start checking to see if my life was still on line.
I’ve started putting my computer to sleep in the kitchen and then letting it sleep in in the morning. I don’t need it for the first hour and a half of my new day, and believe me, it has no interest in all those sunrises that I watch. No more do I feel that I have some whiny child nagging me to get going, when I’d like simply to sit in the silence and solitude and just be. And don’t tell, but I’m slowing changing it’s bedtime to an earlier hour. Only problem might arise if it notices that the sun is setting about a minute later each day.
How simple life becomes when I don’t let my computer run my life. No easy task.
I’ve started putting my computer to sleep in the kitchen and then letting it sleep in in the morning. I don’t need it for the first hour and a half of my new day, and believe me, it has no interest in all those sunrises that I watch. No more do I feel that I have some whiny child nagging me to get going, when I’d like simply to sit in the silence and solitude and just be. And don’t tell, but I’m slowing changing it’s bedtime to an earlier hour. Only problem might arise if it notices that the sun is setting about a minute later each day.
How simple life becomes when I don’t let my computer run my life. No easy task.