Do You Ever Unplug?

My steaming hot iron ran over the damp cotton fabric and beautifully smoothed out a thousand tiny wrinkles in my husband’s long-sleeved work shirt. This blue checked one, a favorite, must have been the sixth that I had ironed this morning.The house was very quiet and I was alone. Having raised four children and having longed for such blissful solitude in my child rearing years makes me still enjoy such a time rather than lament it.
However this very quietness caused me to realize that it is a rare condition lately. Normally, I would have my iPhone sitting on the adjacent cabinet broadcasting, by some downloading magic which I happily accept but don’t really understand, a wonderful actor reading my latest book purchased from audible.com.
Another opportunity for solitary pursuits of the mind is a long car trip, something which I do regularly as I visit or babysit our seven grandchildren and children. They all live hither and yon, not having the good manners to live close to the folks who raised them.
Those miles of Interstate or even the back country roads fly by these days as I again listen to a book. As you can see I do love technology and the delights of Skype, iPhones, iPads and ITouch, but I wonder today as I bask in the quiet of ironing shirts, where will the dreamers and thinkers of our country come from?
I know that I am not the only one whose mind is constantly plugged in. I see that all of you as you drive, walk, run, exercise on the treadmill or work around the house, are as plugged into those little earbuds as I am.
Do you ever unplug and take a walk just to listen to the birds of spring, the ocean roar, or the hello of a neighbor? I think our contemplative faculties may be withering from lack of use because we like to be entertained all the time or connected to friends and loved ones through constant texting.
Are our thoughts so important that they need instant communication? Of course sometimes they are and I love all these electronic devices but at the same time I think I want to iron a few more shirts or a great big tablecloth and day dream; remember a poem, a song long forgotten or even invent a cordless iron.
Patricia Hall