I have a splinter stuck in the palm of my left hand, and I don’t mind.

The splinter came from my (eventually successful) efforts to light the fireplace in my new apartment this past Saturday evening. I spent the rest of the night sitting on a cushion in front of the fire reading The Morning News Annual and sipping tea.

Fireplace

I had almost forgotten the joy of sitting and reading by a fire. While I often consciously make time to disconnect, relax, and engage in personal reflection, living in a continuously-connected world makes it difficult to step back and slow down.

My issues with Comcast over the past week have meant that I have spent the past ten days (and counting!) without any access to the internet outside of work. My iPhone is with AT&T for repair, and I don’t have a television to fall back upon when I’m looking for quick entertainment.

Instead, I’m spending my time reading magazines, building fires, and chatting with strangers in cafes. I’ve been living in a lo-fi world, and I’ve been so happy that even a splinter in my palm can’t bring me down.

Eventually, I’ll get back to my always-connected world, and when I do, I want to be reminded of the wonderful things I’ve done in the past few weeks — things that are decidedly unconnected and lo-fi, but have been full of small joys and an appreciation of the people and things around me.

Activities like:

  • Skipping rocks on the Potomac River at 9am on a Sunday morning.
  • Climbing trees on large hills to get a better view of the city.
  • Helping a local fruit farmer sell pears at the farmer’s market.
  • Writing heartbreak poetry collaboratively with strangers at a cafe.
  • Playing dodgeball with kids at the local after-school program.
  • Singing with the busker playing the guitar at the metro station.
  • Discussing a recent Economist article with a stranger over lunch.
  • Sitting on the roof of my building and watching the sun rise.
  • Sipping oolong tea outside on the curb while I watch shivering strangers bump into each other as they hurriedly rush to get out of the cold.

What do you do when you’re disconnected? What are the little, lo-fi joys in life that keep you smiling? How do you remember to savor those joys and that beauty even when the world is moving so quickly around you?

(The gorgeous photo of the fire in this post was taken by Jim Frazier.)

Related Posts with Thumbnails