It’s 6:00 in the morning, and I’m already home alone. The husband left for another busy week of business, and here I sit with my cup of coffee and trusty electronic companions. You see, almost as much as I fear the darkness, I loathe the silence.
I like a little noise around me, even if it’s of the technological sort.
Blogland, however, has a way of making me rethink things.
On Friday, one of my favorite bloggers, Gayle at Solitary Moments, spoke of an uninvited season of low tech living when she moved back home to live with her very low tech mom and dad. What she reaped in that season of simplicity was a harvest of restoration. To read the entire inspirational story, click HERE.
I thought about Gayle’s post on and off all weekend. I thought about the amount of silence that is filled around my place with artificial noise.
My days begin to the sound of the morning news over my first cup of coffee.
I sit here in the den until I’m fully tanked. Then I leave the television running all day long for no other reason than background noise as I meander about the place. If I go upstairs for any length of time, I click on the television in the bedroom as well. I rarely if ever sit down to watch the television, but it’s always there, wokking in my ear even as I plop down in front of that other electronic playmate called the computer.
Artificial noise follows me on the road, too. Ebenezer is well stocked with CDs for singing and tuned to talk radio when I feel like a little company.
Lots of noise.
At night, I set my sleep timer and fall asleep, generally to the noise of the news. In the morning, I start the whole thing all over again.
Pondering Gayle’s post, I wondered how well I would survive the low tech lifestyle for a season. I have a feeling that I wouldn’t fare so well. Forget the season… I’m not sure that I could survive it even for a day.
So I’m putting myself to the test, and I'm such an over achiever that I'll try it not for one day, but for two. Impressed, aren't you?
For the next 48 hours,
I’m calling this adventure
in "The Year of Go",
in "The Year of Go",
I’m unplugging my televisions…
And I’m unplugging my computer…
And I’m even turning off my cell phone. I’m going to trust God that my girls will reach me just fine the old fashioned way… which come to think of it, isn’t all that old fashioned at all.
And while I’m at it, I’m unplugging my microwave and the convenience of the millisecond meal-for-one that has somehow become a mainstay of this empty nest. I’m not unplugging my refrigerator or stove, however.
I said I was adventurous, not crazy.
So here I go. We’ll see how this down time fills up. And then, I’ll come on back to yak all about it.