The phone was out of range.
There was no internet reception.
We only had each other.
We couldn’t instagram the bush tukka.
We couldn’t log into Facebook at check in with friends.
We couldn’t tweet about how amazing this place was.
Many people scoff when I tell them that I don’t have a phone. Well, I do have one. I share one with my wife. She has it Monday to Friday, I have it on Saturday while she’s at work. She uses it, I pay for it!
It seems that we’ve been so accustomed to sharing the ‘best bits’ of our life on social media. I’m not saying that’s good, bad or ugly. It’s just how we’ve become narcissistic in this social media age.
I truly believe that being disconnected is one of the best states we can be. When it’s just you and perhaps those around you that you love. When there’s no distractions. When you’re not tied to an electronic device that ejaculates inane crap 24/7. Don’t get me wrong – I’m quite partial to a bit of facebooking and my instagram addiction is well documented. What I’m saying is there is just something fantastic about being ‘off the radar’.
It’s hard to be disconnected in this day and age. When we are, it’s usually by technological malfunction rather than choice.
I want to know how you get ‘off the radar’, if you do. I’d love to know what you think about when you’ve got no facebook feed to check out or thought to post on twitter. When all you see is purely nature, and not a filtered photo on a small screen. Do you get scared about being disconnected? Do you relish in no one being able to contact you? No boss to ask about that project. No report to turn in. No phone calls to return. Nothing required of you, except to enjoy the moment.
How do you ‘disconnect’?
(yeah, I’m totally aware of the irony of asking about disconnection on social media, too!!)
Photo totally ripped from http://titaniumrunner.net/2011/09/disconnected/
In 1999, I gleefully left my childhood home of Wollongong, NSW for the bright lights and sunshine of Brisbane, Queensland. I was 17, excited and ready for adventure.
I left behind a lifetime of friends and a handful of family.
I have returned a few times to visit friends (many of which have since left the ‘Gong for Sydney) and to see family.
My Grandmother died just week and I have had occasion to travel once more to that city wedged between the majestic green mountains and the expanse of the Pacific.
In all honesty, I thought this would be if not my last, certainly one of my last trips to Wollongong. I don’t have many close friends there and my family are at quite different phrases in life. My grandmother was my main relational connection to the city.
On the evening before my Grandmother’s funeral, I spent the most wonderful time with old family friends – their children – children I once babysat are now grown adults and most married!
Sitting around that sturdy table with beautiful, encouraging, faithful friends, I realised I still have many more trips to make back to the Gong. I realised once again that seeds of friendship, faith and love planted many seasons ago were only just flowing. Seedlings of the everyday had turned into a colourful garden!
I went to Wollongong for a funeral. To bury someone and say goodbye to someone very near and very special to me. When I left, I realised it was not the dead that I was leaving behind, but the living that I yearned to see again.
The picture above is the work of @tvidins on instagram. You can find this, and other beautiful pictures here