There are some people out there who purposely leave their phone at home. Or they just go out and switch their data off. All for a chance to get a techno cleanse, so they can… you know… really ‘be in the moment.’
There are some people out there who wish they could go back to a simpler time without constantly being connected.
They want to just escape the smart phone world and be happier and more zen. Well… that sounds like a nightmare to me.
Also Read: Phone addiction is restricting us
A night out without my phone. I once had to back up my phone, for the first time after two years without backing it up (yes I am that girl), so it had to stay connected to Wi-Fi and had to remain plugged into a power source.
But that night, I had a birthday dinner! I asked myself whether I should stay home and miss the birthday dinner or should I unplug my phone and lose those four hours it’s been backing up?
If I did, I would have to start the process all over again. So I made one of the most difficult decisions ever and I left the house without my phone.
Right before that though, I texted a few of my closest, most regular contacts and told them that I was going to be phoneless for the next three hours. I pulled my phone close to me for a short embrace and walked away.
I couldn’t update the people I was meeting on my ETA, like I usually like to do, so I just drove. I drove in silence… without my Spotify playlist to keep me company.
I tried listening to the radio, something I avoid doing when driving here, as the music tends to be an abysmal pop playlist on repeat.
By the time I handed my car to the valet, I was already in denial about my phone not being with me, to the point that I actually forgot, and looked around the car so I could take it inside the restaurant.
Then I remembered it was plugged into my charger at home, backing up my precious memories and conversations.
I walked into the restaurant with nothing in my hand, as I am used to a phone usually being surgically glued to my palms. I sat down with my friends and we ordered dinner.
You would think that now, since I am with my people, that I wouldn’t need my phone… that I wouldn’t need to check because the stimulating conversation would keep me too busy to look through my social media feeds and reply to my texts. No it didn’t.
We were talking and I do in fact love their company, but I was missing my phone. It was home alone! What if that cute guy had texted me?
What if the food looked beautiful and I didn’t have a chance to take any pictures of it?
I pushed these thoughts out of my head and tried to be ‘in the moment’. It was hard to do when everyone else was checking their phones regularly and some even referencing Instagram photos, to look at portion sizes and presentation of the dishes we wanted to order that night.
These days a restaurant’s success rate is based on three things. First thing is good food, then good service and finally, an Instagram friendly environment. This was one of those places.
I just wanted my phone back. I wanted to take artsy pictures and document my moments.
I accept my phone addiction and I don’t care.
I know this makes me sound like an unhealthy and obsessed person, but honestly it’s one of my only vices. I consider myself a stable, normal person who works hard and is helpful to strangers. I also love my family and understand the importance of one on one time without people without technology disrupting that.
But the one thing I allow myself to be weak with is my phone.
I sleep next to it, I drive with it next to me (for music of course!), I read on it, I watch videos on it, I talk to my favourite people on it…it’s my whole world. I have no shame when someone tells me I am addicted to my phone.
I know I’m doing everything else right in my life, so I don’t feel bad that my only bad habit is never having my phone more than three feet away from me.
At the end of the night, as I waited for my car, I found myself getting excited at the prospect of being reunited with my phone.
It would be backed up, restored and perfect just the way it is. I drove a little faster than usual, walked into my home, said a quick hello to my dad, then went upstairs to check my phone. Honestly, that was my moment of zen.