It is 36 degrees out. I have several windows open.
It began out of necessity this morning, after a slight issue with the morning's bacon. If you use the wrong pan to cook bacon, bad things happen. Our stove has a tendency to overheat things as well, so if you're cooking with pans that are neither cast-iron nor non-stick, things burn. The smoke from bacon grease is especially thick and noxious, so we opened the kitchen window. And the one in the eat-in. And one in the dining room, to create a draft.
The smoke cleared. We ate our breakfast. The bacon was salvageable - I like it crispy, and HO sauce masks a lot of sins. Randy set off to get "measured" for a new set of golf clubs, his not so secret Christmas present. I tossed in a load of laundry and settled in to read more of HAMLET'S BLACKBERRY, by William Powell.
I left the windows open.
Powell's book is hugely insightful, and very entertaining. I've read almost everything out there on the problems of being overconnected in this digital age, searching for an answer that will help me disconnect without guilt, but none have affected me the way Powell's book has. Perhaps it's because it's much more existential, more philosophical. I do like my Plato. Perhaps it's because, despite the philosophical bent, the concepts are much more accessible than anything I've read on the subject before.
I'm always trying to find ways to disconnect. And yes, there is great irony in the fact that I'm reading Powell's book on a screen (my Nook) and have interrupted that journey to visit my screen (my Mac) and talk about the experience. But sometimes you need to get your thoughts down before they disappear.
The windows have been open for three hours. Yes, it's a little chilly in here. But the sun is shining. The air is crisp and clear. I like the way winter smells, all chilly and brisk, like licking an ice cube. I like that I'm letting a little of it inside. It makes me wonder, what else am I missing because I don't want to be uncomfortable? Is the little bit of disconnectedness I'm searching for, and often failing to achieve, tied to not wanting to be uncomfortable? Is being tied into the grid solace in some form? I've never felt lonely. I like being alone. Perhaps, without realizing it, I'm looking for something and I don't know what it is.
Huh. We don't like to be uncomfortable. No question. Neither do I. Randy just got home and made me a fire.
The windows are still open.
I'm going back to Hamlet's Blackberry now. I recommend you getting it for yourself. And I do hope William Powell is planning to write more books. I stopped reading to get online, look him up and find out more about him. He's had a very interesting career, one that I will now be following. And a lovely by-product - I see that he's married to Martha Sherrill, who wrote a book called THE BUDDHA FROM BROOKLYN. 2011 is the year I throw myself into the study of Buddhism, Taoism and yoga, so her book has risen to the top of my must get pile.
Odd, how the connectedness and the disconnect overlap and help me find my way. Sometimes, you have to be open to let the universe in, whether it's through a window, or your soul.
Food for thought.