Life Is Not An App
Inspired by this talk by a fellow writer
A few weeks ago I spent some time in the Adirondacks with Ben’s family. A much anticipated vacation, I made the decision to turn my iPhone off for the duration of the trip hoping to gain a different kind of inspiration for my writing. This is what happened.
Day 1: As we reach the park, begrudgingly hold down power button but keep strong. Wistfully slide right to power down. Reminded I haven’t actually done this more than twice since getting the phone. Don’t know what to do with myself until we get there.
Day 2: Keep fidgeting in my pocket, twirling what has now been a certified paperweight for a full 24 hours. Feelings of longing accompanied by obsessively pressing the home button in an effort to make it “work” again. Pick up the book I packed and actually read more than a few pages uninterrupted.
Day 3: Decide to leave phone at the cabin while on a short hike. Find myself mentally capturing intricate details of my surroundings: how the mountain air tastes, how the breeze feels in my hair, how the leaves sound as they crunch beneath my boots. Everything is incredibly vivid. Spend remainder of night drinking good wine and having real conversations.
Day 4: As we start on the long drive home, Ben’s dad tells him to turn on his phone in case we get lost. But, getting lost is an invigorating thought, isn’t it? “I don’t think I even want a phone anymore!” Stop at small town barn festival. Talk to lots of interesting vendors, wonder the entire way home what their lives are really like. Dream up characters based on them.
A weird thing happened after that trip. I realized that there’s so much more to life than apps and instant messages. I started to pay attention to things; things that didn’t involve notifications or comments or Likes; real things that I’d been taking for granted most of my adult life because someone’s five second Snapchat or overly filtered Instagram, for whatever reason, took precedence. I had become so consumed with other people’s lives that I’d almost forgotten about my own.
Not anymore. Since then, I’ve taken it upon myself to wean myself from technology a little everyday. Not because it’s what every 20-something article deems necessary but because I experienced it firsthand on my own accord. Every morning, instead of checking emails or scrolling through Facebook, I make the bed. I take a walk down a different street in my neighborhood. If a stranger asks me how I am, I tell them, and ask the same.
I know I can’t completely let go of the 21st century in all of its content obsessed fervor, but life is really too short (and far too beautiful) to be spent in front of a screen. The most compelling stories will happen when you don’t have the means to write them down.