I’ve been off the grid for 5 days. (I like to chant “OTG! OTG!”) I was a little
afraid my life would fall apart while I was “gone,” and maybe it did a little
bit: my gmail is apparently full and refusing emails, and who knows what else. I admit that makes me
anxious; I’m not sure who might not try to re-contact me once I purge my email
inbox. But, I suppose I can look at the
bright side: that also means I have a few less emails to wade through upon
re-entry.
Before this experiment, I tried smaller ones: in the past
couple of months I have regularly been doing two hours without my phone while
going for a run and then stopping by the grocery store on the way home. Not relying on my phone for entertainment
while running and to remind me of my shopping list give me a sense of independence
I didn’t know I missed. And, when I get
back from these little excursions, I often am not overly excited to look at my
phone.
So, when I turned my phone off for the past several days, I
expected to enjoy the freedom. But I
also thought I would miss the ease my phone offers: both emotionally and
logistically. And I think I did at first.
In the first day or so, there were moments when I was
waiting in line, or for a menu, where I instinctively wanted to grab my phone
and scroll Instagram. There were times when
I got back to my room and automatically thought “oh I need to check and see who
has texted since I was last with my phone.” There were instances when I wanted
to know the answer to something quickly and wanted to immediately turn to
Google. And then sometimes I’d almost
reach to carry my phone with me “just in case.”
After a day, though, these urges began to fade. It was a relief to not have to carry my
phone, or to have to check on its charge. The autonomy I had felt on my
two-hour trial periods increased exponentially: I didn’t need my phone. And, more notably, I didn’t want it.
I connected more deeply both with my best friend I was
spending time with and the strangers I encountered each day; I listened to them
more because I was never phone-distracted or even pre-phone-distracted (when
I’m wondering what might be happening on my phone). I noticed more things around me in the world
because I was never ever looking down at a screen. And, when I wasn’t engaged
with other people, I found myself meditating, which, over a few days, gave me a
deeper sense of peace then I’ve been able to maintain for the past couple of
months.
I never felt bored. I
never felt lonely.
As the end of the five days approached, I started to dread
re-connecting. I tried not to waste any energy thinking about my worries, but I did brainstorm ways to stay as disconnected as possible once I returned. When I first started dating the man I married, in 2007, he used to leave his mobile phone at home during the day: he said it "lived" there. I remember being angry at him; wanting to be able to text him to arrange things mid-day. But now, in a totally different world, I see the appeal and plan to leave my phone at home as often as possible. And so, now, as I am moments away from turning my phone
back on, I find myself only slightly terrified of the other side.
**24 hours later**
Turns out there was a disaster waiting for me. But, like one of my best friends said, wasn't it better to have the space away for a few days, since the disaster would've been their either way? (Yes.) I'm pretty sure I was much better equipped to deal with it after my time away anyway.
Oh, and you can email me again. JIC you're one of those emails I missed! 😂
