There are some people out there who purposely leave their phone at home. Others leave the house and switch their data off. All for a chance to get a tech-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.
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 needed to stay connected to Wi-Fi and had to remain plugged into a power source.
But I had a birthday dinner. I asked myself whether I should stay home and miss the birthday dinner or 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.
Tried to ignore my addiction
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 around people, that I wouldn’t need my phone … that I wouldn’t need to check it, 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.
I do in fact love my friends, but I missed my phone. 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.
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 with 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 this.
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 parents, then went upstairs to check my phone. Honestly, that was my moment of zen.