Unwiredness is one of the luxuries of life in my green schoolbus on the bluff. No wifi, no smart phone, no wires. I have a battery-operated radio but the reception is crap. When I want to hook up I carry my computer down the cliff trail and along the ocean boardwalk to the farmhouse. It is only a 5-minute commute, but that distance makes all the difference in the world.
I climb down the cliff and sit myself down here under the patio umbrella, log on, send off my queued emails, download my mail and maybe a podcast or two for later listening. Check my twitter feeds and analytics, and the Tideline for island gossip and news. Do a little blogging, send and receive a few graphic files. Log out, feed the chickens, pick some kale. Then climb back up to my bus on the bluff, to work and practice and play.
The semi-wired life is a balm for my brain. I feel calm and unhurried. I do one thing at a time: devote myself to washing my undies in a bucket, or writing, or observing my evening otter in his fish-eating routine. With no impulse to check this or that I unitask like a maniac. My mind like a radio, free of static, clear, and precisely tuned.
The semi-wired life affords maximum productivity. With few distractions my work flows easily and is finished quickly. When i can only do one thing at a time with my computer I get a lot more done, and then usually there is time for a bike ride or a forest hike. Which means that at day’s end I sleep well, in my bus under the stars. Living the semi-wired life.