Unplugged

I was cleaning out an old pocketbook and found the old Nokia flip-phone that preceded my Blackberry.  My 9 year old exclaimed, "That phone is so old. It must be 10 years old".  No, not really,  it's probably only 4 years old.  But, it did get me thinking about how technology has become a central part of my life.  I am not sure, however, how comfortable I am with it invading every little crevasse of my home, thoughts, and being.

In the past few years, we've been fortunate to be able to add nifty technology items to our household.   The iPod Nanos weren't a big deal as the only fun feature is a camera/video camera that we didn't really use.  At the time, we didn't own a Mac so therefore didn't get all the available convenience out of them anyways.  We also got a GPS for the car, affectionately named Jinger, who usually gets me from point A to point B relatively unscathed.

Then, came the iPhone (me) and the iTouch's (kids); talk about being uber-connected.  Between the iPhone and the computers we own (4 in total, including 1 workhorse desktop and 3 laptops in various states of usage), I am always talking to someone, reading or writing email (easier on a iPhone than Blackberry, but imperfect thanks to the insane "auto-correct" feature it has), or looking at a screen.

In some ways,  the technology is good; it allows me to multi-task.  Taking a walk or hike while listening to my iPod is fine.  I don't think it takes away from the experience, but I also shut the music off sometimes, especially in the mornings, to enjoy the sounds of the Pond, or the Fells.

In contrast, having my iPhone in my hand checking emails while waiting at the pharmacy for a prescription, at a school while waiting for a meeting to start, looking at documents and other pertinent information on the screen, or even while I am home and involved in a project has started to grate on my nerves.  I want to be connected, but I also remember the days before laptops and cellphones (not that long ago, and I managed just fine.)   Working from home, specifically in a home without a dedicated home office, requires a certain discipline of keeping 'work time' focused on only work.  The screens are okay; that is until I have to buckle down and read a long, detailed assessment or an IEP, taking notes (in my case, handwritten on the first go by), or write a strategic case management plan (again always by hand first).

Having the printer and fax going, a computer humming, and the "not-ok-in-a-real-office" luxury of a Yankee Candle burning, all seem to work.  Interestingly, I've learned that doing work on my laptop doesn't work when at home.  I am at least twice as productive when I use the desktop and am sitting in an office chair, in front of a wall usually covered in sticky notes about kids and cases. It's something which makes the work seem more "real".

Then, there is the opposite end of the spectrum.  I am home, alone or with occupied kids, and the laptop becomes too tempting, screen open.  How many millions of hours have been wasted on Facebook when I could have been reading a book?  I have never played games on the computer, but I also have never really enjoyed board or card games, period.

In the past few days, I've made a concerted effort to shut down at a certain time and not open the laptop again until I am showered and dressed in the morning.  I've stopped myself from checking my email on my phone, despite it being in close reach while on my nightstand.

I have slept better and I feel a bit liberated.  Gone is the inability to read a book cover-to-cover, which developed over the past few years. (This is saying A LOT as I have always loved to read).    I now know I wasn't distracted by anything internally (hello ADD and the Ritalin I now take along with 90% of the population), but rather the distractability also had a lot to do with the fact I was always looking at a screen and that the screen was always available.  Why read words on a page when you can see a vibrant screen?  I don't want a Kindle or a Nook and will never buy one.  I like the feeling of holding a book.

Much like the bowl of candy you *really* want more of and you tell your kids to hide where you can't find it because it is too damn tempting, I should entrust my laptop to one of my more responsible kids for the same purpose.  In addition, it's too easy to write something you'll regret on the internet or in an email.  Computers offer "instant gratification",  a place where even patient people do dumb things.  Note: I don't think I have ever had much patience.  Dealing with tantrums and autism has taught me some.

This post isn't about living an unplugged lifestyle.  I'd be bored and don't think the granola-crunchy thing is for me.  (I went hiking/real camping overnight in the woods, once, with a friend:  I hated it.)   As an autism mom, my life is pretty isolating at times, so the internet has the ability to keep me connected to those I love; call it a "virtual village", if you will.  Truthfully, without the support on-line, I'd be a puddle on the floor, having cried myself into it after dealing with a tantrum or anxiety marathon.  I can't even count the number of friends I've made beginning on-line, or the clients who have found me there.

Self-control is not a bad quality.  For a variety of reasons this past year, I haven't been able to get out and have much of a life.  Okay, that's a whole other post, but I haven't done a lot of walking sans the places within 5 miles from home; the old standy-bys.  This week's forecast doesn't include rain; a hike or walk in an old favorite like Lynn Woods, Cutler Park, or somewhere up Route 2 is definitely in order.  I can't lock the phone in the car in case I get lost, injured and need help without which I'd die, you know, all the excuses... I can, however, shut off the internet,  listen to some music, and enjoy the brisk fresh air.

Of course, I'll blog afterwards about how great it was being unplugged.

Grace happens

This morning, when it was still pitch black outside, I walked to the back porch, fleece on, and took in what the week had been, and mentally prepared myself for what was going to be a challenging day.  Breathing in the cold, fresh air, I stood, alone, and enjoyed watching the beginnings of the sunrise. 

The morning seemed, in advance, a mountain to scale, not knowing how high we would climb, or if we would need to descent before reaching the peak.  In any high stakes meeting where people are counting on me, I do feel the weight of the world on my shoulders.  I knew we had the right evidence and that I had produced high-quality documents.  Without resolution, today could have lead to a not very fun week after Thanksgiving for many people.

The meeting was painful only in the sense that some of the people there did not want to be there and seemed so uncomfortable.  But, folks needed to hear me out, and did so respectfully.  Afterwards, we needed to hear them, and did so respectfully.

In a moment of grace, it became clear we were both looking for the same thing.

It makes me happy to know a student will have a chance to heal and learn;  I was able to play a small role in making that happen and that is a great "paycheck", the  thank you from a grateful mom.

Sitting here in the calm, feeling confident, I am chatting with my son who randomly gives me kisses on the top of my head, enjoying some leisurely discussion with my daughter, and even snuggling up with the cat.  Tomorrow, I'm taking a day off from work and going to do something nice for myself.   A hike sounds like just what the doctor ordered, or maybe just a walk around Horn Pond.  Later, my teenager can meet a potential new friend and bond over social justice issues and a love of animals and all things not mainstream.

I am so very grateful for my friends, my children, and my village.  Furthermore, I am grateful that I get to do work I love and *maybe* change kids' lives along the way.