Unplugged

Yesterday, I spent almost an entire day without any Blackberry, email, phone calls or internet.  (Okay, I watched a few minutes of TV, but I had to see the Golden Globe clothing recap.)

It felt so good to just be.  It reminds me of going on a silent retreat, which I thought might be difficult, but it turns out that I love it.  Our lives are so intense now, it's hard to really relax and slow down.  But I did yesterday and I hope to continue to do so periodically, maybe every other week or so.  It didn't matter what I did - actually I did some reading and then I wrote something I really like, the start of a new solo piece or a play - and I walked.  This winter has been really great so far, even the five week cold I had and the frigid days. We're already two thirds through the winter and I'm grateful for the forty degree weather we've been having.  And I love walking the dogs and running into old friends every day.


I'm still watching and listening to the coverage of Haiti.  I heard a great story this morning on Brian Lehrer's show on NPR about a film school in a small city close to the epicenter of the earthquake.  The school was destroyed, fortunately all the students survived and they have been taking their equipment out into the field and sending footage of the countryside that CNN and all the networks are using on their broadcasts.  They talked about this city (I wish I could remember the name) and what a beautiful, culturally active place it was (and hopefully will be again someday.)  Most of the stories from Haiti are horrific - there's no denying that.  But I loved the story about the baby that was born on a U.S. carrier over the weekend.  The U.S. Vincent is the carrier and the baby's name is Vincent.  What a story his mom will tell about his birth.  And another story about a woman whose husband wouldn't give up looking for her in the rubble of the bank she worked in.  They found her alive after six days of no food and no water.  She drove home in a car like she'd just finished a long day at the office.  Human resilience is utterly amazing.  

I'm about to attempt to Skype with my daughter.  I have a feeling it probably won't go so well the first time, but I'm determined to try.  I miss her and hope I get to see her sweet face.