Bring back the answering machine!

out of office forever

I’m reading My Inner Sky by Mari Andrew and I love the many stories she shares of her solo travels. Her stories remind me of my own solo adventures traveling the world, in the before times when I was unfettered and free to roam.

One of the things I miss most about that time of my life is the way that I was able to drop out of my normal life back home and drop into something new, unfamiliar, fresh. These were the days before smartphones were ubiquitous and we hadn’t yet developed the expectations that people should be constantly accessible no matter where they are in the world. We still had the ability and the freedom to leave calls, voicemails, texts and emails unanswered for a while without setting off alarm bells. (Last summer, I powered off my phone while visiting my in-laws in Turkey and when I turned it back on a week later, there were a slew of messages from people preoccupied about my wellbeing because I hadn’t responded to their WhatsApp messages.)

Case in point: Today I called an accountant who has some knowledge about filing taxes in Puerto Rico to ask him a few questions. I dialed his U.S. number and his crackly voice came on the line. I told him who I was and what I was calling about, but it soon became apparent that the connection was very bad. “I’m overseas,” his voice warbled across the Atlantic. “I’m in Europe.” I felt terrible for having interrupted his vacation and apologized profusely. “Don’t worry about it,” he said. “Shoot me an email.”

This is the beauty and the curse of the world we live in. Never out of touch. I did shoot an email to the accountant, and I received a response within half an hour. You could be halfway across the world from someone, and yet, in our digital world, communication can be instantaneous. And we as a society have fallen under the spell to believe that since communication CAN be instantaneous, then it should be so.

During my nomadic travel days, I remember sitting at the gate waiting for whatever one-way flight that was taking me far away my world. One of my rituals before boarding would be to record a new voicemail message, something to the effect of: “I’m out of the country right now and I don’t know when I’ll be back. Bye!” I’d power down my Nokia brick phone, stow it in the bottom of my backpack, and forget about it until I returned the States, whenever that would be.

It was a season of long emails sent to good friends, each of us recounting our adventures. It was a time of laboriously uploading photos in wonky internet cafes and paying by the minute from phone booths to make international calls home.

I cherished those traveling times, when I could truly be away from the people that I knew and who knew me. It’s not because I don’t love those people, but I also found so much value in forging forward on my own, figuring out who I was without my close-knit family and friends. I was able to experience what it feels like to be truly alone—not alone with your smartphone and a wi-fi connection, but on my own in the world, without a familiar face or anyone to call. I couldn’t assuage loneliness with a quick text to a friend or send a voice message to my sister about something crazy that just happened. I had to rely on my own company and the kindness of strangers to survive, and I made many wonderful friends and acquaintances along the way. The most important person I befriended was myself.

It’s a friendship that I feel I have lost in recent years, for a variety of reasons—becoming a mother of two small children being one of them. But also, I think this friendship has weakened due to my current reality which is that I am so rarely alone—truly alone. Even on a walk in the woods near my house, I’ve got my phone in my back pocket, just in case anyone needs to reach me. Always on call. Always one click away. On a restorative walk in the woods but still beholden to the modern expectations of instantaneous communication.

I want to take it back! I want to take back the right to drop out of touch, to take my time getting back to people, to leave messages unanswered for a few days without making people worry about my wellbeing. I want to put an eternal “out of office reply” on my phone. I want to communicate with loved ones solely by letters sealed with wax and carrier pigeons. I want to trade in carpal tunnel for ink-stained fingers. I want to resist the urge to share every semi-coherent thought I have with someone via a quick text or snarky post. I want to be satisfied with the fact that I get to share those thoughts with myself—and why can’t that be enough?

I remember a summer I spent living in the rainforest in Ecuador. We were, what the locals called, “muy adentro”—very far inside the wild world of howler monkeys and poison dart frogs. There was zero connection to the outside world—no phone, no radio, no wifi, no electricity, no road. The only way in or out was several hours by horse or your own two feet down an extremely muddy path that threatened to swallow you whole. I spent my days collecting seeds and planting them in the nursery, nurturing the next generation of native species to recolonize a land that had once been razed for cattle farming but had, after a dozen years or so, nearly returned to full throttle wilderness. As I worked on whatever task I had at hand, whether that was weeding around the banana trees with a machete or fixing the wooden planks that led down to the river where we bathed, I composed letters in my mind to the people I loved. Even though they were far away and unreachable, I carried them close to my heart. You could even say that I communicated with them in a strange way. I could not share with them every thought or sentiment or experience that I had, and that was okay. I was content.

🧹Housekeeping

✍️Represent! I am seeking representation for a nonfiction book based on this newsletter. If you or someone you know works in the publishing industry, please contact me at carmella.guiol@gmail.com.

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🗞️Article of the Week

I’m a Scientist Who Spoke Up About Climate Change. My Employer Fired Me., NYTimes (gift link)

An op-ed by my good friend, Dr. Rose Abramoff, about her experience losing her job at a national lab for her climate activism.

OUT OF THE LAB AND ONTO THE STREET

🎵Song of the Week:

Después de la Playa by Bad Bunny

While we were in Puerto Rico, I learned that Bad Bunny played atop the gas station half a block from our old house and I am BEREFT because I was not there to witness the magic.

Ey, to' el mundo borracho bailando en la playa
Sintiendo el calor, sintiendo el calor
Tú llevas rato mirando y mirando
Pégate mejor, pégate mejor