Recently I ordered a small coffee at a local coffee shop, and the barista asked, “And would you like a code for the wifi?” His eyes glanced down at a jar full of small, white pieces of paper with 10-digit codes on them.
Old school, I thought.
“Yes, absolutely,” I said.
I found a seat at a back corner table, punched the code into my computer, and joined in a Zoom conference call with a few others. Unfortunately, most of the call proved immensely frustrating because my Zoom screen kept freezing and providing me with an “unstable connection” message.
I glared down at my 10-digit wifi code on a few occasions - as if something embedded in its configuration was failing to keep me connected to my meeting.
Eventually, the meeting ended, and I stood up to get a refill on my coffee ahead of an in-person meeting I was soon having at the same place.
As the barista handed me my refill, he asked, “And do you need the wifi code? Our codes only last for 2 hours at a time.” I’d been at the coffee shop for about 90 minutes at that time, so it was certainly an appropriate question - and one to which I assume most folks say, “Yes, I would.”
Instead, I said, “No, actually. Good to be disconnected for the rest of my time.”
He seemed mildly surprised by my response and then went on to the next customer. When my friend eventually arrived for our meeting, he sat down, smiled, and said, “I think I shocked the barista when I told him I didn’t need a wifi code.”
“Same!” I exclaimed as I shared the story of refusing the code during my refill.
We then spent the next sixty minutes talking about jobs we’d interviewed for but didn’t get, music writing and story writing, When Harry Met Sally, Harry Connick Jr., the Midwest vibe, acapella groups that cut us during tryouts (me) and acapella groups we led (him), karaoke experiences, and what it takes for people to trust one another, open up, and experience next-level breakthroughs in their life and work.
—
The morning began with a weak connection. It ended with a strong one. And the singular key?
We made a trade. Not one that I usually make, but one I rarely regret when I do. We traded the…
Internet for the individual.
Tech for the table.
Speed for the sacred.
And in one sense, it does not take much.
The refusal of a code.
The closing of a laptop.
The tucking of a phone deep into the bottom of the bag.
The stepping outside.
The mindful two minutes of deep breathing.
The “Yes” to “Can you play with me?”
The asking of a follow-up question.
Little decisions to go old school are everywhere, all of the time. And each one is an opportunity to open ourselves to the singular kind of connection for which we crave - and in which the most serendipitous moments usually unfold, too.
Plus, as Annie Dillard wisely observed, “How we spend our days is, of course, how we spend our lives.”
So…
How shall you spend today?
Any old school moments you can embrace?
Little disconnections or connections to make - or perhaps both at the very same time?
I'm spending my day with a group of people thanking God for the gift of his son. I will also go through the last walk of Jesus's life. I'm looking forward to it.
Playing cards and going for walks with friends give me that old school communication!