A World Less Modern Conveniences

After reading an article titled, A World Without Planes, I began to think, how would I be different minus the modern conveniences I take for granted? No airplanes, no cars, no washing machine, no computer, no Internet, no cell phone? Would I make it? I can safely say I would be fine without a washing machine, having survived two summers at camp by washing all my clothes by hand; but the others, I have a sad feeling, have become so intertwined into my life that it is almost impossible to separate them indefinitely. Sure, I could make it two weeks without checking my email, but not much longer.

Alain de Botton, the writer of the aforementioned article, sums up that now often yearned-for slower pace of life our grandparents and great-grandparents experienced,

"In a future world without aeroplanes, children would gather at the feet of old men, and hear extraordinary tales of a mythic time when vast and complicated machines the size of several houses used to take to the skies and fly high over the Himalayas and the Tasman Sea.

The wise elders would explain that inside the aircraft, passengers, who had only paid the price of a few books for the privilege, would impatiently and ungratefully shut their window blinds to the views, would sit in silence next to strangers while watching films about love and friendship - and would complain that the food in miniature plastic beakers before them was not quite as tasty as the sort they could prepare in their own kitchens."

No, I don't think I'm going to turn Amish anytime soon, but I am discovering the joys of taking a day each week not turning on the TV or the computer, walking down to the beach, and reading a book or just observing nature (frogs living on my screen door, birds and loud squirrels in the trees near my house, and two rambunctious dogs in the backyard). Thus I try to distance my dependence on the technology I can't seem to live without.