Time in a Muddle

My computer crashed a couple days ago. This email comes to you through a circuitous route, because, as many of you know, recovering from a disaster like that doesn't occur over night. For all of you who have shared your experiences of computer meltdowns and heard me smugly say something about “you should have backed up your data,” or “you have to use fire walls,” I apologize. We backed up, we had fire walls, the thing still died.

The last few years, I had some sickening awareness that I was getting just too dependent on my computer, but when I suddenly didn't have it at all, I was appalled at my helplessness. I had transferred phone numbers as well as emails to the computer. A fleeting thought of calling someone to discuss a project or an appointment, or even to let them know why I wasn't emailing, was foiled when I realized I had no other record of their existence except what I had recorded on my computer. Yes, we'll eventually retrieve the data, but we're dealing with a weekend here when tech help is somewhat limited.

In an experience like this, there's always a yin and a yang, a counter-balance to some polarizing event. I couldn't imagine what the proverbial silver lining would be other than to put a check on my over-bearing confidence and express some true empathy for those who have gone through the same ordeal. I wasn't expecting the enlightened moment, until I was preparing for a 9:30 meeting the next day. It was 8:30 when I looked at my watch and I was ready to go. How did that happen? Was the clock wrong? Ahhhh—no computer to suck me in---no computer to tie up my precious minutes----no last-minute emails to answer. I had some time on my hands.

Talk about flow. Over the weekend, I've gotten some long overdue ironing done. I cleaned out some file drawers. I picked peonies from our garden and put bouquets all over our house. I played with my cats, much to their initial mistrust and to their eventual delight. I took a nap. I had to admit my computer had taken over my life, depriving me of some very simple pleasantries.

In a day or so I expect I'll be back up and running as normal. From another perspective, I'm grateful I'm only worrying about losing a few pieces of data and not shoveling mud from my living room as many Iowa people have been doing over the weekend. But on the other hand, I learned, despite my mantra of “I wish I had more time,” I do have time. Out of the perceived chaos, the pathway to time became evident. As happens in Feng Shui, sometimes your things or your space will provide you the kick in the pants you need to move forward, or to see the light, or to find the time.