Alright, let’s have some real talk. Imagine this: the grid goes down for a week. No power, no internet, no DoorDash, no TikTok. Suddenly, your refrigerator’s not running (so you can’t catch it), your phone’s a glorified paperweight, and your Amazon orders aren’t showing up anytime soon. Could you survive? Could your family?
For most Americans, the answer is terrifyingly clear: no. And that’s a problem.
We’ve built a society so dependent on technology that it’s made us fragile. Want food? There’s an app for that. Want directions? There’s an app for that. Need to fix something? Google it. Technology isn’t just part of our lives—it is our lives. And the more we lean on it, the less capable we are without it.
Here’s the thing: technology isn’t inherently bad. It’s convenient, efficient, and sometimes downright magical. But when we rely on it for everything, we lose skills, resilience, and independence. What happens when the Wi-Fi goes out and you can’t Google “how to boil water”? What happens when there’s a storm, and the grocery store shelves are empty? What happens when you need to navigate without GPS or, heaven forbid, entertain yourself without a screen?
Let’s be real: this isn’t just a hypothetical. We’ve seen glimpses of it. Power outages during storms, supply chain disruptions, and even social media blackouts have shown us just how unprepared we are. And yet, instead of learning from these moments, we keep doubling down on convenience. We’re not just building a house of cards—we’re living in one.
Here on the farm, the contrast couldn’t be starker. When the power goes out, we don’t panic. We’ve got candles, a wood stove, and a stocked pantry. We know how to grow food, fix things, and navigate without a digital crutch. It’s not about rejecting technology—it’s about balancing it with real-life skills. It’s about being prepared for the unexpected instead of being blindsided by it.
The truth is, dependence on technology has made us lazy, disconnected, and vulnerable. We’re losing touch with the land, with basic survival skills, and even with each other. Instead of teaching our kids how to grow a garden, we’re handing them tablets. Instead of learning how to cook from scratch, we’re scanning QR codes on pre-packaged meals. Instead of solving problems, we’re outsourcing them to apps and algorithms.
But it doesn’t have to be this way. We can reclaim our resilience. We can teach ourselves and our kids how to grow food, build things, and solve problems without Google. We can learn how to navigate with a map, light a fire without a lighter, and cook a meal from ingredients, not instructions. It’s not about rejecting modernity—it’s about balancing it with the skills that got humanity this far.
So here’s your challenge: spend a day unplugged. No apps, no internet, no shortcuts. Cook a meal from scratch, go for a walk without GPS, and ask yourself—can I do this? And if the answer is no, maybe it’s time to start learning. Because the grid might not go down tomorrow, but when it does, you’ll want to be ready.
Until next time,
Traci
