Reconnecting to the Present Moment

I wasn't really on board with Smartphones when they first came out several years ago. It seemed like way more computing power than I would ever need, some kind of gimmick to get me to spend more money on devices and data plans. When I received an iPhone as a Christmas gift, I reluctantly accepted and began switching over. Crumpled lists, pens, cameras, notebooks, receipts and folders slowly disappeared from my life. Everything was perfectly organized, categorized and saved to databases. I hacked my phone and adjusted apps and coding to be able to use a more affordable plan on a different network. I fiddled with the satellite tracking system to find friends, places to go and let people know where I was. I keep my grocery list, my daily reminders, and my workout plans in one place. I get news alerts when important world events are happening. I play Sudoku when I'm waiting in line or for a friend. It checks me in at the airport and gets me to a place I recognize when I'm lost.

Last night, I made the unfortunate mistake of submerging my phone in water. It slid right out of my pocket and plunked straight into the toilet. When I saw huge bubbles of air releasing from it as it filled with water, I knew it was doomed.

Weirdly enough, I don't talk on the phone much. I'm not even much for texting. But my phone is my staple. More of a staple than my wallet or keys. I feel naked without it in my pocket. It's my alarm that wakes me in the morning and my news source as I wind down to go to bed at night. It hasn't even been 24 hours and I keep finding myself reaching for it.

It's socially acceptable now, and even a social necessity to have a smartphone and be connected to it at all times. In any given public place, you'll see at least half of the people playing with their phones. But noticing how panicked I feel without it, how disconnected, how disorganized, just in the span of a few hours, I realize that my reliance on it is bordering on ludicrous. There was a time in my life when I owned an alarm clock, sat quietly and people-watched when waiting, where I ate my food instead of taking pictures of it. Some data is obviously very useful. I would be reading a newspaper, have a calculator on my desk and a notebook to write down to-do lists. It's nice to have all of the basic stuff in one place.

What's most eye-opening, though, is realizing how much time I spend thinking about other things. And even with the smartphone, I don't think I'm necessarily getting more done. Most of the data I had can be recovered. It's on a database or backed up on my computer. But my list of bands to check out is numbering several hundred long. As many hours as I spent reading the news, an equal amount of time was wasted looking at funny pictures of cats. And I'm certainly guilty of using my phone to escape awkward conversations or chase some piece of information down the rabbit hole of the internet, like "What was the name of that one actor in that one movie I sort of liked 2 years ago?", as though it's of dire importance.

Many people complain of phones preventing people from connecting face to face. I am actually in the camp that believes it helps people connect more and in new creative ways. The problem I find myself facing is never being alone with myself. That type of cerebral silence is difficult to train yourself into. With constant instant gratification, I can't help but wonder what skills my brain has gone soft in because the task was usurped by my phone. I have a feeling that being rushed and stressed is something I've constructed for myself with technology instead of something I actually have to abide by.

So today, I present a challenge. Resist the urge to use your phone. Instead of playing a game, talk to someone or play tic tac toe on a napkin with a friend. Instead of looking up what's-his-name, test your memory. Instead of tracking yourself on GPS, try to memorize the streets in your neighborhood and find your way. If you eat lunch by yourself, bring an actual novel to read or sit quietly with your thoughts. Instead of sending an email, get up and walk over to your coworker's desk to ask a question.

Enjoy some time with yourself, you may teach yourself something. And until next time, keep it clean!