The Forest of Technology

Every morning during my silent retreat at Redwoods Monastery I climbed a steep forest trail.
Parts of the forest floor were covered with plants I couldn’t identify. No internet meant no Google searches; no talking meant no asking.
Being unplugged was slightly different than it was ten years ago. I felt like I was going against the grain of society.
I felt caught between the pure pleasure of being unreachable and the guilt that went along with being unreachable.
I used my phone solely as a camera —
a device to trigger memories of walking along the outstretched limb of a tree,
longing to sit on a log bench crawling with carpenter ants,
noting the artistry of a Douglas iris.
The irony, of course, is that I had every intention of using some of the photos for this blog, which is a plugged-in means of communication.
The branches of technology seem tethered to us, perhaps even growing into us.
And due to that we lose some of our privacy.
But how much privacy do I actually have when God knows my every thought?
And if I didn’t have Zoom, I wouldn’t be able to worship with my Quaker Friends in Illinois, or meet with the members of my Spiritual Support Group who now reside in three different states plus a province in Canada.
Hmm, more cud for the chewing.

Photos © Sondra Sula.

Take a walk with me by reading my daily devotional book, Meditations on Mendocino by Sondra Sula. Available on Amazon in paperback or 0Kindle versions.

If you’d prefer a daily river walk, Reflections on the Fox River and Beyond by Sondra Sula, might just be the book for you.