Imagine stepping into a time machine, not to visit the roaring twenties or ancient Rome, but to a mere two decades ago. A world without Google Maps, Instagram stories, or the constant hum of notifications. Pamela Paul's "100 Things We've Lost to the Internet" invites us on this unexpected journey, not to romanticize the past, but to help our relationship with the present. Here are SEVEN of the many things we've lost that resonated deeply with me:
1. The Thrill of the Unknown:
Remember the anticipation of waiting for a handwritten letter, the delicious uncertainty of who might be on the other end of the landline? The internet, for all its convenience, has replaced that with the predictable scroll, the curated feed. Paul reminds us of the beauty of not knowing, of letting curiosity simmer instead of instantly gratifying it.
2. The Power of Boredom:
In a world of constant stimulation, boredom has become a dirty word. Yet, Paul argues, it's in those quiet moments, unpropped by screens, that imagination takes flight, creativity sparks, and introspection deepens. She calls us to reclaim the lost art of “doing nothing," and to let our minds wander and surprise us.
3. The Grace of Imperfection:
Remember the grainy charm of Polaroid pictures, the handwritten note with its telltale smudges? The internet, with its filters and flawless facades, has bred a culture of perfectionism. Paul reminds us of the beauty in the unpolished, the real, the unfiltered. It's a message of self-acceptance, a balm to the soul in the age of curated online personas.
4. The Power of Aloneness:
Before the internet, being alone was a normal and healthy state of being. It involved solitude, reflection, and self-care. Paul reveals how being alone can benefit our well-being, as it can give us space, peace, and perspective. She also warns us to protect our time alone, as it can be invaded by the internet, which can make us feel lonely, anxious, and overwhelmed.
5. The Joy of Serendipity:
Stumbling upon a handwritten recipe in a dusty cookbook, discovering a hidden bookstore tucked away on a cobblestone street – these were the serendipitous joys of the pre-internet age. Paul laments the loss of chance encounters, of the unexpected treasures waiting to be unearthed if we just put down our phones and explore.
6. The Art of Deep Listening:
Before the internet, tweets, reels and stories, listening was a respectful and attentive way of engaging with someone. It involved hearing, understanding, and responding. Paul illustrates how listening can improve our relationships, as it can show our interest, empathy, and support. She also urges us to practice the skill of listening, as it can be compromised by the internet, which can distract us, interrupt us, and isolate us.
7. How to write a letter:
Before the internet, writing a letter was a meaningful and personal way of communicating with someone. It required time, effort, and care. Paul shows us how writing a letter can express our emotions, thoughts, and personality in a way that email, text, or social media can’t. She also encourages us to revive the art of letter writing, as it can strengthen our bonds, preserve our memories, and delight our recipients.
I found the book to be a masterful exploration of what the digital age has subtly, sometimes fiercely, reshaped in our lives. Reading this book wasn't a trip down memory lane; it was a call to action. It wasn't about abandoning technology, but about finding a healthy balance, a mindful co-existence with the digital world.
