Most peculiar

A colleague in the Michigan News office recently took a four-week mini-sabbatical. He stepped away from the day-to-day chaos we call American life and disappeared into a cabin in the woods for a self-imposed silent retreat. Solo. Completely removed from all technology (including cell phone), media, and human interaction. Even his meals are timed for pickup at a central hub to ensure fellow “retreaters” never encounter another living soul.

Before he bugged out, I teased him about missing “all this” (waving hands overhead to indicate an all-encompassing cloud of craziness). We could hear the CNN feed from the boss’ office, one door down. My ears twitched: What fresh hell could be unfolding at this very moment? Did I even have time for a conversation with this mild-mannered Buddhist?

Actually, it wasn’t a conversation at all. It was me ranting to him about yet another situation I could not control. I may have even stomped my foot. The national headlines were stressful enough, I cried. And the news on campus was trending in a dark direction. How could he bear the “not knowing” of it all?

He shrugged. What did it matter if he was plugged in or checked out? The shenanigans would continue unabated, with or without him.

He was right, of course, but the aggrieved news addict in me could not compute. Imagine choosing inner peace over self-induced aggravation!

Two things I know for sure: My co-worker picked an ideal time to escape. And he’s in for a rude awakening when he returns.