My Three Weeks of Stepping Back: Smart to Slow

One year ago, Its face smashed into the bathroom floor.

The android showed no new cracks so, to my eye, there was no real damage. I realized though with growing dread that the perpetual black screen was telling me otherwise. This face plant might be the last and final one to do it.

I tried to gauge my next move, weighing the financial consequences of getting a new payment plan that were hard to justify, and also feeling the pressure to communicate with people I was planning to meet the next day. A subtle sense of panic began to quicken my steps as I came to terms with this shift in my reality.

This shift created a feeling of isolation and vulnerability, all because I was without my smart phone. It was unnerving to think that such a small device could create this intense reaction despite being surrounded by people. I was so far from isolated, yet I couldn’t connect. 

I was downtown looking for an At&t with angst as my only company, disregarding the truth that a resolution would come, even if not right that moment. But that was exactly what I needed, a resolution right that moment. I needed to know that a connection is restored.

So, the resolution came in the form of a flip phone.

With a one time charge of $50, no monthly installment plan, this phone is now mine. It is archaic, nostalgic, functional, and frustrating. It is wonderful and also extremely unrealistic for my life.

That thought begged a question. Is that because it can’t be done? Or because I am not willing to change my life enough to make it work?

Realistic is an interesting concept to relate to a phone. Conceptually a flip phone seemed like a fine idea, it covers basic needs, removes the easy access to the social media apps that had crept into my daily life, opens the gates to see my surroundings with greater attention. But it is also ill equipped for navigating this world; and in an interesting way, connecting with it.

Three weeks and I was ready to immerse myself back into the fast, smart world. But this time, with a new outlook.

Tunnel Vision Culture

Smart phones are an extension of us. I am a part of a generation of texters, our written language comprised of proverbial emojis and acronyms, our fingers the prevailing tool to communicate over the once singular option of our voices or, further back, pen to paper. I tend to lean on the typed message even when my voice would serve much better. My fingers move effortlessly, racing across the smooth screen, and I can look away and slip into a daydream as I unconsciously type. It is all so fast.

And so smart.

It is the text and it is the genius of smart phones and social media that leaves a massive impression on me. I have never relied upon my phone so much as I do now. And right now is such a challenging and interesting time to live in our technological world. Near everything has an app with a dozen variations, I use at least four video/virtual meeting ones, and I need the stimulus to keep some semblance of normalcy.

I find myself reaching for it without notice just to see if someone has texted me, to see whether a notification has popped up, and that small rush of dopamine is my technological equivalent to a cheeseburger. When time passes and there is no notification, I am uneasy and disappointed, an experience I have to pull myself out of, time and again.

There is too, this unseen but known pressure, to share your life. Often through a crafted lense, there comes this dysphoria that what we see on these 100,000 followed feeds is the truth and the beautiful painted quality of it must be an honest reflection of that person’s lived life. This can be so pervasive when we start to compare it to our own lives and find faults when none exist.

By that pressure and dependency, I lost myself in it. That android of mine is such a powerful necessity, that I feel stressed without it. Life lacks interest without this device to document it and my requirement to productivity and joy. And all surrounding me becomes only peripheral in view while I devote so much to this hand held screen.

Engaged Culture

Now, why not immerse yourself in it? There is so much information at our fingertips, ways to connect and visual stimulus that can provide insight and enjoyment. But if it takes precedence over the physical space we fill and the opportunities to engage, as simple as making eye contact with someone, is it truly valuable?

If it reigns higher in importance, then is the value genuine? Does it have depth?

In one sense, yes, because they are platforms for creative expression that create opportunities, never before possible. Connections around the world formed in a matter of seconds from one curious mind searching a word to find creativity they likely would have never known without it. These hashtags bring people together. What we then do with that connection is a question worth asking, but there is something powerful in receiving what others have created and put out into the world. 

I have discovered work that is incredibly inspiring, perspectives that are challenging, and removing myself from social media completely means I lose out on the chance to discover, and contribute to, the greater creative landscape from the space I take up here in Seattle.

If and When to Disengage 

Then the question arises, is it worth readjusting its role in your life. Not necessarily going off the grid completely, but disengage enough to discover your life is still full without it. For me, it was worth a readjustment because I was a bit burnt out from the relationship. Burnt out from perusing through my day to day life to see what image of it will be interesting to share and waning when I haven’t. Again, checking for notifications for the likes or comments, fearing vanity, desiring validation for self-worth. 

Why not create my own validation in all the areas of my life?

It is entirely your own choosing, how you want your phone to influence your life. The whole idea of disengagement is to heal the dependency and the distortion if it has meant sacrificing connection to the physical world.

There is a practicality to the smart phone that makes communication seamless, navigation accessible, interface less emotionally strenuous. There is value in that. But on the other side of that coin, though a flip phone or no phone does make for distinct challenges, it also makes for opportunities to be resourceful. The validation of a different kind of independence.

What the Flip Phone Did for Me

I appreciated the significance of the present. It was no longer an idealized concept, but an actual reality. It made for greater flow of thought, sparked by the images, scents, and sounds that existed as more than the background context to the contents of my phone. My imagination found astounding material to chew on. The kind of material that would have been broken up with my inclination to check each app for updates and the satisfaction of looking into the lives of everyone I could swipe or scroll through, rather than taking stock of my own.

The scope of what the flip phone could do was so limited that I was left with a choice: to brew in frustration or find calm in the seat I inhabited. While everyone else is looking down, I am looking up. My mind is a cluttered mess. That material I mentioned is way far from gold; it’s weird, nonsensical, too self-focused, but it is mine and as I sifted through it, little nuggets of inspiration followed me off the bus and onto my paper.

It made me realize that I don’t have to own a smart phone to survive. Smart phones create great convenience and an assiduity that the world is moving and I am a part of it. But it is sometimes falsely painted and when it holds my attention so tightly, am I not more of an observer of the moving world? I had to trust in my greater lack of control. I had to practice patience in the extra damning 5 minutes it took me to text because this phone doesn’t even have the progressive T9 yet. I cherished listening to music on any desktop I had access to. I loved the sound of the snap-pop when I closed the phone (the old-school dopamine rush), but not so much a fan of how it pinched my fingers. I felt a dichotomy constantly.

It was in that dichotomy that I realized I miss the vast world of apps and group text threads. I miss web browsers that don’t disappear. The ability to access information quickly. Call an uber when I am too late for the bus. Know when the bus is even coming. And the inspiration that comes from both the painted lifestyles and the raw creations on each social platform.

Renewed Return

I look back on that lifestyle shift as a detox that opened the flow of appreciation and the clarity of what influence I want my device to have. Covid-19 has required a major shift in lifestyle too, and I am grateful that I had the flip phone experience. I cherish the growing ability, or at least keen awareness, to separate myself and be present to my surroundings. 

It is an influence that essentially speaks to this: I don’t want to lose myself in my phone, but I can value the opportunities it provides to connect. 

Through social media: I have enjoyed those beautiful curated accounts, seeing my friends share their dabbles in creative projects, and talk about their Covid experiences. In some ways it is escapism, in others, connection. I know in all of it, my life as I live it and leave it, is enough.

Instant gratification is a gift, not a necessity. The extended pause and visual quiet is totally possible and can be cherished. I know I will find my destination when the time comes to leave my home confidently, I know I will connect with you.

I took a step back. I held onto technology’s hand, albeit loosely, and found beauty and frustration in the physical space I take up. And now, as I continue to breathe a subtle sigh of relief with an android, I don’t dread the possible disconnect from the tech world because I know the world exists and moves without it, with absolutely no lack of color or insight too. Even in such an uncertain time as this.

In looking at my 21st century lifestyle, I felt the flip phone did, functionally, so little for me, but in that statement is everything. The separation it created was everything.

.Kels.