The other day my iPhone died. After weeks of scolding it, letting it know I wasn’t happy with its behavior, making excuses for it when it would drop calls in the middle of important, wrestling with it whenever it froze while I was reading my email…it’s finally over. When it happened, I felt betrayed somehow. How could my phone do this to me? How would I survive without connecting with everyone who wanted to call, email, or text me?
As a single parent, my phone is my mainline to my kids. It’s always with me. It sits on the table during my meetings and even on my dates. When the phone died, I acted as if I was four years old, and someone had yanked away my precious blankie.
When it died, I was not in the Zen mode. I should have been. No—I reacted emotionally, with anger and frustration. My daughter, Victoria, came into my office to find me dealing (badly) with the situation. “Mom, look at you,” she said. “Why are you reacting this way? You should actually be happy that you can take a break from it.”
Okay. I contemplated this idea, and as the evening wore on, I became more and more comfortable with the absence of my phone. I took my dog for a walk without it in my pocket. I watched my son as he swam in the pool without it by my side. When I woke the next morning, I felt unusually calm, not worried about who to call or text. I made myself a cup of tea, walked the dog, and enjoyed my morning.
I had a bit of a nostalgic feeling throughout–a longing for a technology-free life. I reflected on the days of my youth. Then the joys of my life were riding bikes with my friends in upstate New York, exploring the birch- and poplar-filled woods, sitting outside, and talking to my grandmother as we munched on fresh strawberry shortcake, lying on my bed listening to (gasp!) records. Life was simpler then, for sure. No ringing cell. No texts to send or answer. No multitudes of channels to choose among…just four! To make a phone call, all we needed a dime.
I date myself here, I know. Do I love and appreciate the convenience of technology? Absolutely. But the loss of my phone forced me into a zone of calm and helped me to realize that I don’t need to be dependent on technology every moment of every day.
My new phone arrives tomorrow, and I am happy about it. But I know now that I will turn my phone off more often when I’m meeting with someone. I’ll leave the phone at home when I walk my dog or head into the natural foods market. I vow to enjoy my days even more. It’s funny. I thought that my life was fairly balanced. But the death of my phone allowed me to experience much-needed serenity and gave me a fresh perspective on my own life.
