Four years ago when I was recovering from my medical setback, one of the medical doctors at the wonderful UCSF started waxing poetic about the Macbook Air and how he couldn’t wait to buy one. Me too, I said. We bonded over the Air. I couldn’t wait to get out of the hospital because I wanted to get better and buy the Air!

It took a bit of getting used to but once I did, I never looked back. Macbook Air – thin and light – became the new symbol of my uncluttered and a simpler approach to life. In March 2008, I wrote:

I realized that the machine and post-recovery me have a lot in common. I have to be very careful as to how I use my mental and physical resources, for there is a high risk of relapse. Similarly, the Macbook Air comes with miniscule amount of storage space, so one needs to be careful about how to use it. The machine’s battery power limitations remind me of how much time I have to devote to work on a daily basis.

It has been hard to use the Macbook Air as my primary computer, just as it’s been hard to change all those pesky “little things.” Indeed, the Macbook Air is an acquired taste. It’s also an apt reflection of an effective “simplification through elimination” strategy.

Just like me, in the beginning the original Macbook Air was a bit underpowered and had not enough juice. It couldn’t really multitask well. Four years later, things are quite different. I have regained my strength — not all of it — and some of my weight.

The new Air is now my only computer.  I have owned every single Macbook Air that has come out and despite its limitations of power (just like my own), I have loved it. I have adapted to it and it has adapted to me. I will keep buying the new ones — for it always reminds me to keep focus on what’s important.