Well, bring the computer outdoors, then!

Well, bring the computer outdoors, then!

It’s a pity when you can’t tear yourself away from the computer to go outside.  Such a pity.  You’re sitting in front of the computer staring glassy-eyed at Facebook or WordPress or Gaia or whatever computer program with which you’re currently hypnotized.  You can’t leave.  What if someone else comments?  What if you get a few hits?  What about all those things you need to be doing on the computer? 

You stare some more.  You think, “I really should go outside.”  Just to get the energy going you post your status on Facebook, “I really really need to tear myself away from this computer and go outside and enjoy the magnificent 52 degree afternoon. Please send energy  to do so–right away!’

Because a few of your Facebook friends are blog readers or simply care, they comment back.  Now, of course, you really can’t tear yourself away.  What if someone else comments?  You’re stuck.   You know you should go outside but you’re stuck like glue to the computer.

Long shadows at dawn when you rushed out in your pajamas w winter coat and boots

Long shadows at dawn when you rushed out in your pajamas w winter coat and boots

So you comment back.  And they comment back.  And then there is another email coming in.  And maybe you should check your blog again.  And then go over to another site and check and see what craziness is happening over there.  And maybe head over to check the news to make sure your kids are still safe in San Diego and Manhattan, and don’t forget your parents down in Florida and your in-laws in Georgia, and what about all those friends across the world to whom you’re connected via the Internet?
Dawn, October 27th

Dawn, October 27th

Earlier this morning I left the computer-world and scurried outside in winter coat, boots, hat and mittens to the shock of…wait!…a rather warm morning.  What had happened to freezing?  It felt almost luxurious.  And there was the Sun!  The amazing sun was showing off in the sky.  We haven’t seen the sun in so long we forgot it existed.  Immediately, I became giddy.  And remained giddy all day.  (Thanks to the sun and a couple cups of coffee.)

Possibly tamarack trees in the bright sunshine framed by blue sky

Tamarack trees in the bright sunshine framed by blue sky

So in between dawn and dusk I spent some time running errands in town.  Delivered this, banked that, banked some other stuff, grocery shopped, visited two friends (Hi there you guys if you’re reading!), and then sat down with my laptop at the coffee shop to drink java and wait for my visit with an 88-year-old friend.  So you can ascertain this was a computer-filled day, can’t you?

Oh, oh.  Looks like there are some outdoor chores to do.

Oh, oh. Looks like there are some outdoor chores to do.

So finally this afternoon, nearing the witching hour of  6 p.m., realizing that the outdoor adventure had not yet happened,  with the help of Facebook cheerleaders, I tore myself from the friggin’ computer and headed outside prepared to look for interesting Things in the woods.

Except.  Suddenly my husband’s words resounded in the memory, “Hey, Kathy, if you go outside could you rake some leaves?”

Oh.  Yeah.  Right.  Raking to do.  Sigh…  Go find the rake, and get to work.

Leaf-raking job

Leaf-raking job

So I raked.  And thought about Facebook comments, WordPress comments, Gaia comments, emails, group notifications, weather forecasts and other Internet communications.  Was I fully in the outdoors today?  

…probably not… 

Except for a magical moment with the sun sank into the forest and the light gleamed at just that beautiful angle.  Suddenly I was right there.  Not in computer land.  In outdoor land.  Completely present for this sacred moment of the day.

And then it's dusk

And then it's dusk

But then I decided to bring Miss Ellie (the laptop) outside on the porch with a cup of  tea.  Just to see who might have commented or emailed.  You know how it is when you’re attached to this computer world, perhaps a little too much.

Don’t you? Or am I the only one?

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