Ever since the beginning of Pinterest, I’ve wanted my proposal captured by a hidden photographer. I couldn’t wait to see snapshots of my prince charming fiance on one knee and me, wide-eyed, hands cupped over my mouth, nodding, “Yes, yes, yes!”
But not anymore.
I came to this realization during a spontaneous weekend road trip with my lively friend, Jenna. I’m not one to just randomly do things so this trip was actually a big step for me. We purposely didn’t plan the trip out because we wanted to discover as we went—like a true adventure. (I did, of course, have a faint timeline of events sketched in my head but shh, don’t tell Jenna).
I am happy to report everything that weekend lined up wonderfully, from finding a good parking spot to the timing of the sunsets. The weather was sunny and kept us sweaty as we hiked along Lake Superior, walked to lighthouses, and stood at the top of waterfalls.
There was only one problem.
I didn’t have data. Like, basically none. I got threatening texts like, “You have used 90% of your data…” I was trying not to panic and also trying not to complain about it every time I checked my phone. I rushed into the coffee shop the next morning to connect to wifi. I checked for wifi in the restaurants. I even looked for it on Lake Superior because I don’t know, maybe the sailors use Google Maps?
My snapchat story—which could have been nothing short of an awarding winning movie—was lacking. My Instagram feed had been bare for days—a very rare occurrence for me. My Twitter profile had lost it’s tweet—probably headed towards extinction.
At the end of the last day, Jenna made the bold decision to cut her long, wavy hair to her shoulders. While waiting in the salon chair, I automatically checked for wifi. SCORE! At the highest speed my thumb could tap, I scrolled through Instagram, checked people’s stories, and tried to think of a tweet to encapture our trip.
But then Jenna bounced up to me with her freshly cut hair and I suddenly found her so much more interesting than anything on my phone.
Maybe it was because we had driven hours together through the middle of nowhere with no service, or because we spilled our hearts to one another instead of Facebook gossip on the cliffs along Lake Superior, or because I actually engaged at dinner because I couldn’t snapchat a picture of it. After being disconnected from wi-fi, I felt more connected to real life.
When Jenna and I were at Gooseberry Falls, we watched a man on a rock go down on one knee and pull out a much more pretty and expensive rock. The waterfall erupted with cheers as his girlfriend bobbed her head yes and embraced him in a passionate kiss. If there was a hidden photographer, he was on stealth mode because I couldn’t find him.
What I’m trying to say is during this road trip I learned what it meant to be in the moment. I don’t need to take pictures or tweet about it in order for it to be significant. It just is. I don’t care who else sees it as long as I feel it. I’ve decided that I want to feel my entire life with everything in me from now on.
The best things are right in front of my eyes, not in front of a screen.
When I disconnect, I connect.
And I guess you could say I found my friend instead of wifi. Now that is a connection I never want to lose.
Molly
the laundry chat 