Soul Path Insights

Absolutely. And honestly, part of me still longs for it.

Back then, connection wasn’t something we downloaded. It was something we lived. We played outside until the streetlights came on—barefoot on cracked sidewalks, trading stories and snacks, riding bikes with no sense of time. Friendship wasn’t scheduled or filtered. It just happened. You showed up at someone’s door, and that was enough.

We didn’t have phones, but we had each other. Real eye contact. Real conversations. We laughed out loud, not in texts. We felt seen—not just followed. We weren’t worried about being reachable. We were just there—fully, freely, together.

Now? Our social lives mostly live behind screens. We scroll. We tap. We comment. But we don’t always connect.

We’re more connected than ever, but often lonelier than before.

We post updates, but no one asks follow-up questions.

I still create—draw, write, design. But it’s different now. Before Wi-Fi, my world was paper and pencils, not passwords and platforms. Creativity wasn’t content. It was play. There was freedom in it. No algorithms. No likes. Just flow.

I’m grateful for what the internet allows me to do today—especially as a writer. But I also know something essential got dimmed along the way. These screens that promised connection have too often become barriers. We can send messages instantly, but we rarely sit in silence with someone. We can say “I’m here,” but not always be here.

Sometimes I wonder if we were more alive when we were offline.

I miss the energy we gave each other face-to-face. The kind you can’t replicate through pixels. The kind you feel in your bones when someone really sees you.

Presence mattered more than performance.

And maybe it still can.

🌱 Let’s Reconnect

If this stirred something in you—maybe a memory, a longing, or just a breath of recognition—I’d love to hear it.

Do you remember life before the internet? What do you miss most about it?

Share your thoughts in the comments or pass this along to someone who might need a moment of nostalgia and reconnection today.

And if you’d like more reflections like this—woven with poetry, faith, and memory—subscribe to my blog or explore my new poetry book, 17 Syllables of Me.

© 2025 Amelie Chambord