Hey everyone,
It happened again when we returned to Delhi a few days ago.
The flight landed, I handed my son his coat, got through immigration, grabbed our bags, messaged our parents, and sat in the taxi that would take us home.
The place we’d been staying at in England did not have Wi-Fi, and I found this lovely, quaint, even wonderful at times. If we wanted to get online, we could do so through our phone hotspots, but like in the old days of dial-up modems, it was something we had to do thoughtfully and with intentionality.
Still, I run an online business. My son does some of his homework online. I don’t know how to communicate with people anymore if I can’t Whatsapp, message them on Facebook, or FaceTime with them.
So, you know, the break had been lovely, but we were looking forward to getting back to Delhi and getting connected.
Of course, India being India and Delhi being Delhi, we arrived home to find that obviously, the Wi-Fi didn’t work.
What surprised me was this: I cared for about 0.3 seconds. Then I got on with some Internet-less things. (Unpacking mostly, which would have otherwise taken at least two weeks to get around to.)
I love the Internet; I wouldn’t have the career I do without it. I love being online and being connected, too. I don’t care much for posting on social media all the time, but I’m there, I see its value. I’m very much a tech-focused person; I enjoy new technologies and like introducing them into my life. As a professional, I love that technology has leveled the playing field for people like me. I love that I can now be judged on the merit of my work rather than on the proximity or my beer drinking with NYC editors.
I found it crazy (though now less so), that I, a no-name person from India could make $1-a-word writing articles, a six-figure income, sitting in my pajamas from a desk in my home.
Personally, too, I can live anywhere in the world and still see and talk to my family over Skype.
I can turn my appliances on before I reach home so that the house is heated or the air purified just before I arrive.
On the way to Heathrow airport, our driver showed us how he could program his car to maintain a certain distance from the vehicle in front so that if that car slowed down, ours automatically would, too.
As I say, I love technology and the value it brings to my life. I worry that I am, like many of us, a bit too dependent on it.
But I also know how to exist when it disappears.
Not having Wi-Fi for another couple of days meant that I was going to get even more behind on business tasks, my accountant was going to have to wait even more days for my sheets, my clients would have to wait longer for this month’s trainings and live calls, and I had no way to read the many emails my kid’s school had sent through. (This time, we didn’t even have the phone hotspot going on.)
So I read a book, I did some coloring, I listened to some podcasts I’d downloaded earlier in the week. I wrote.
Because you can use the unfavorable circumstances in your life to stress about them, to pace around, to get upset and yell at someone. (And lack of Internet often does lead to such emotional outbursts.)
Or you can see them as an opportunity to do something about your dream.
I did something about my dream.
I made the shift from frustration to fun.
And when the Wi-Fi came back?
I did a little happy dance and then I got on with getting shit done.
Cheers,
Natasha