Connectivity Isn't Connection

The WiFi unexpectedly went out at my house last Friday. It was completely random — working fine one minute, then zero connectivity the next. I restarted my router a few times and checked all my connections. No luck. I couldn’t spend much time troubleshooting because I was on a deadline for work, so I left the house and worked the remainder of the day from a neighborhood coffee shop.

The technical issue that brought down the WiFi isn’t important. What’s important is that it was something I couldn’t fix myself and the provider needed to send out a technician to resolve it. The extra-important part is that they couldn’t put us on the schedule until the following Tuesday. This meant we’d have no internet at home for five days.

As an elder millennial, the thought of an offline extended weekend excited me. I remember well, and often long for, pre-internet living. This wasn’t the case for my 13-year-old who lives on YouTube or my 18-year-old ESPN freak who was on his way home from Penn State (they were on a bye) to visit for the weekend.

What transpired over those few offline days was special. Yes, our phones still had cellular connections, so we weren’t completely disconnected. But lack of WiFi meant our laptops remained closed, our tablets untouched, and our smart TVs dark.

Instead, we spent quality time together, mostly outside. We built a fire. We made margaritas. We took a few family walks with the dog. We cooked a Sunday football feast and watched the game using an antenna. We looked each other in the eye as we talked, and it was nice.

Those five days reinforced for me that life feels richer when I’m not constantly plugged in. Sometimes absence can create space for much needed presence. When Tuesday came and the technician completed his work, I was almost reluctant to reconnect because I now realize the connectivity I’d been missing wasn’t the WiFi at all.