If I wanted to call a friend, I picked up the phone. If I needed the definition of a word, I looked in the dictionary. One with actual pages made out of wood pulp. If I wanted to kill some time, I turned on the radio. Maybe I even read a book. Ah, life without the Internet.
I attempted to re-create life without the Internet (LWOTI) for ten days, starting on July 4th. It was an experiment born from a sense that I spend way too much time in front of the screen. As a writer, there is very little I can do for work that doesn't involve a keyboard and monitor (interviewing and prep work are the exception). Add business emails, personal emails and my latest time-suck, Facebook, and, well, quite frankly, I would hate to actually add up the time.
So what is life like without the Internet for a week and a half? Not as scary as you might think.
I should start by saying that I chose a timeframe that included a national holiday and a week-long vacation away from home. Surely there would be less business email over the holiday weekend, and people wouldn't expect me to reply to emails over vacation. And that was one thing I quickly realized...the stress of email pile-ups is compounded by your perception of how quickly you think you should be responding. When you let go of that -- for a day, or a weekend, or a vacation -- you allow yourself to focus on other things rather than the paralyzing guilt of the emails you should be typing.
While I was away from my own computer, I knew that my husband would bring his laptop on vacation and that our rental house had free wireless Internet. The temptation would be there, so I swore it off. When I logged off late on Thursday evening (July 3rd) I headed to bed. As soon as I settled under the covers one thought screamed through my mind: "I didn't send the attachment on my email to Noah's music teacher! I must log on tomorrow to make sure I did!" But you'll go back on your promise, a little voice said. So I went with reasoning that I had probably sent it, but if I hadn't the earth wouldn't shatter to pieces.
It was extremely easy to stay away from the computer for a couple of days, but as the week went on, I had minor slip-ups. Not that I touched a computer...oh no, I had someone do my dirty work for me. My husband logged on every day, so I would casually ask, addressing no one in particular, "I wonder what time the Chatham Jam and Jelly Shop opens?" Minutes later, Bob replied, "10 to 5, Monday through Saturday." This sort of thing happened a few times. "What does it really mean to be an amphibian?" "What do people become lactose-intolerant?" Or when we returned home "Where is the closest REI?" I lived with none of the guilt over email but reaped the benefits of instant information. You might ask why I wouldn't just look it up myself. It was more than just my "challenge." I knew that five minutes of info-searching would lead to a half-hour of email, perhaps a blog post and definitely some online window-shopping.
I made it until Sunday night (the 13th) when I decided to check email for the sake of not having an overload on a weekday. The business account wasn't too bad, just 44 emails. But my Yahoo account was loaded with 90 emails, most of very little substance. Online coupons/sales events, hoaxes, forwards, and the like crammed my inbox. It reminded me of the heap of mail we pick up at the end of vacation. It's a foot high, but only a tiny portion is relevant stuff. You might read it all if you picked up the mail on a daily basis, but looking at the humongous stack you realize you just have to jettison most of it without a second glance. Perhaps that's the solution for email. Check it less frequently and dump the junk immediately.
Was there any benefit to LWOTI? Well, I read two books while on vacation and I woke up each day without the crushing feeling of THE INBOX. I went to yoga a week before vacation. The instructor came over to me several times during class, each time pushing my shoulders "down my back, away from my ears." I went this past Saturday (LWOTI Day 9) and not once did she move my shoulders. But this is a pretty long blog...I think I feel them inching again.
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