Magical Plugs in the Winter

An ode to the rare time when technology does right by us

I have a complicated relationship with technology, but in one small way, it gets simpler during the holiday season. It’s a time when we seek out latent emotions and little bits of magic that can bring us together and comfort us as the loneliness of winter approaches.

Our family ritual has become quite simple. The bleak Oregon weather pulls us indoors and we spend a few days decorating, much in the way our parents did. We assemble a humble holiday village, chop down a Christmas tree, place a few hundred feet of stringed lights. Wreathes and garlands are hung, along with embroidered stockings.

By the end of it, we’ve accepted that we won’t be seeing many visits from the sun until spring. We then spend the next few weeks idling, basking in the slowness that the winter brings. Our sources of warmth become almost entirely man-made, forcing us to be deliberate with the light and relationships we encounter.

Not much has changed in this ritual, except for one piece of technology: the humble smart plug. My increasingly dark Pacific Northwest afternoons have been forever changed by this invention. With it, my patterns are most dutifully tracked by the illumination of Christmas lights and warm lamps to set a positive mood.

Darkness invites despair and a longing for the sun, but these plugs have made it so every room welcomes us. They function much in the way a comforting storefront or coffee shop would. In each room, we are invited in as if we are meant to be there, like someone else is taking care of us.

In these brief moments, I can feel some innocence return. I think not of the pain, fear and uncertainty that technology has brought us, only of these magical plugs. In patterns of my design, my holiday village lights up. First the schoolhouse, then the old mill. In a few years, I’ll probably add a small train running on the hour. All thanks to this tiny piece of technology. A simple diorama, running reliably.

There is of course a part of me that rails against these technological encroachments with whatever is left of my will. I hold the competing ideas in my head, largely because moments of joy aren’t allowed to stay too long. All too easily, we return to the negative.

“These devices are making us dumber, and more reliant on vulnerable Internet networks and surveillance.”

“We’re buying new ways to complicate our lives.”

“Wouldn’t I be better off living in the woods?”

The luddites would be proud.

We all have a complicated relationship with technology. We lament the habits that have overtaken us, such as arguing with strangers on social media or wasting away days watching any movie we can think of.

It is easy to to take the good parts of our technological advancement for granted and focus on the problems. I’m sure that we’ve always been this way throughout history. We must advance and strive, and that makes gratitude difficult. Perspective is something reserved for the few.

It strikes me that my parents likely had different types of technology that struck them with fear and awe, and their parents before them. But when it comes to smart plugs, they simply see the magic.

I hope that your holiday season is a warm one filled with joyful vignettes like the one I’ve written about here. Oh, and if you share any fondness or tips to enhance the small magic of smart plugs, I’d love to hear about it.