Reporting in: first day of "Media Deprivation" - an entire week without reading for pleasure.
Without reading . . . there are books on the nightstand, papers on the newsstand, reading material everywhere waiting to be read. Without reading there’s life without headlines, news breaks, and media alerts. Without reading there's little to review or preview. There are no opinions, no editorials, no finer points to place into context. Without reading there’s only navigation along the terrain of a quieter mind. Without reading there’s only searching, reaching for a pen and notebook, connecting the dots.
Without reading there’s harder work. Fewer pastimes and electronic distractions. Fewer desktop stops at the electronic water cooler to check email, newsmail, junk mail, chainmail, admail, linked mail, twittermail, ebaymail, misc mail and missed mail. Without reading, there’s little to do with trivial pursuits, facts to check, weather to watch. Without reading there’s real need for motion, physical activity, exercise for the brain, a walk around the block.
Without reading, there’s forgetting: to not read.
Without reading . . . there’s acute awareness of the daily grind (without caffeine breaks). Without reading, there’s the noise of employment: a day that begins with the droning of traffic, the din of heavy machinery, the whine of an air compressor, the scream of a power drill, piercing metal through metal, the sounds of industry and production. Without reading, there’s tuning out, then noticing the cold shoulder of colleagues similarly tuning out as brain fatigue sets in. Without reading, there’s a limit, imposed by the clock. Time to come up for air. Food. Exercise. Balance.
Without reading, there’s today’s post . . . that no one will read