Econtrol

Have you ever attempted digital communication without a functional "e" key? It's a booger.

Over the course of last weekend, the most-used key on my laptop started misfiring. By Monday it was failing more than 75% of the time. Ufda. While it's somewhat better now—performing intermittently—I can't count on it.

At the moment I'm queued up for a keyboard transplant under warranty at the St Louis Apple Genius Bar. Meanwhile, I've been coping by substituting "command V" for "e" when I compose messages. While it's a damn nuisance, there is an amusing, creative aspect when normal systems fail and one is forced to improvise. Under duress, its amazing what work-arounds we can come up with. (And I've already had two people offer even more creative ways to produce an "e" on my screen without actually using the "e" key—apparently I'm not the first to have suffered this malaise.)

The good news is that I was scheduled to be in the Gateway City anyway for four days of duplicate bridge, and I'm playing cards less than 10 miles away from the Apple Store (read hospital).

The bad news is that the operation requires general anesthesia and my laptop will need to be in sick bay two days—an excruciatingly long separation when you're as dependent on electronic communication as I am. It's like entering radio silence, or sitting a Vipassana course.

The good news is that when I'm immersed in the arcane world of tournament bridge, all I do is live and breathe cards anyway and thus was anticipating a vacation from email (I'll play somewhere in the vicinity of 240 hands in 75 hours—and, yes, I will sleep each night).

The bad news is that when I checked in at the Genius Bar Wed evening (when I first hit town) they didn't have the part in stock.

The good news is that they can secure the part quickly and I can keep my laptop until it came in (which is why I've been able to compose and post this blog on my regular three-day cycle).

The bad news is that the delay to secure the part means there is a smaller window in which to effect the repair. As I'll be driving home Sunday evening whether I have a new keyboard or not, my fingers are crossed that there will be time enough.

And to think that this "crisis" wasn't even on my horizon a mere week ago. When Hayoka energy shows up in your life like this, you realize that the gods are smiling at our attempts to impose order on life through planning. Not only is it a myth—but it's one that we sustain despite consistent evidence to the contrary.

• • •

Over the course of the last 25 years I've gradually transitioned from communicating via mail to communicating via email. While it's a difference of only one letter, it's a big shift.

We are, without question, firmly operating in an electronic world these days, and moving more in that direction every day. In fact, it wouldn't be much of an exaggeration to say that I'm evolving into becoming an emale myself—a man who functions significantly in an digital context. In addition to my daily dose of email management (the volume of which is much greater than postal mail ever was), I regularly participate in conference calls, and two days ago I delivered my sixth process workshop via webinar. Are we headed for a future where we're constantly online?

To be sure, there remain significant and precious portions of my life that do not involve electronics or virtual reality. Intimate time with my wife, face-to-face dates with friends—witness my Sunday evenings with Men's Group, time with my counselor, and the bulk of my work as a process consultant. I reckon there will always be a benefit to being in the room, observing and responding to people in real time, where all senses can be brought to bear.

Thus, while econtrol in one's life may be desirable—the ability to understand and accurately manage digital content—it is not the same as control in one's life. And for today, at least, I have the much more modest goal of simply reestablishing "e" control.