My Two Months Without a Phone
It took about two weeks to stop impulsively reaching into an empty back pocket for a device that wasn’t there.
Smart phones have become the single most useful piece of technology in existence. From my fingertips I have the ability to navigate practically anywhere, communicate with anyone, track my health and wellness, organize my calendar, send out work emails, learn from hundreds of thousands of podcasts, purchase stocks and bikes, share my life with close communities, scroll through other’s lives, scroll through other’s comments, scroll through arguments of people with conflicting comments, watch videos of a cat yawning, mindlessly watch snippets of people’s lives who I’m too afraid to say hello to in person, and avoid awkward situations in the real world by denying its existence through concentrated focus on a comforting screen.
The problem was apparent. There was no denying the utility of a smart phone, but what used to be an enhancement of an authentic life quickly became an escape towards a virtual cyber reality.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the majority of humans spend more waking hours in front of a screen than away from one. In fact, that was what instigated my decision to finally rid myself of the virtual vortex. When I had conversations with friends, I found myself battling for their attention. The introduction of the smart watch diminished even further the brief inklings of eye contact that I so desperately searched for.
Like many others, there were countless times that I found myself in a confused stupor after emerging from minutes or hours of mindless scrolling. I had become frustrated by the red icons and push notifications that relentlessly cluttered my brain.
So, the day that my phone fell from my grasp and landed with a distinct shatter on the concrete below… I didn’t groan. I didn’t cry. I didn’t feel anxious or upset. I laughed.
I was finally free.
The first week was admittedly incredibly difficult. The most obvious changes I noticed were:
- The inability to listen to music or podcasts while in transit.
- The inability to navigate anywhere from anywhere (or to figure out where I was when I became lost).
- The inability to call someone to get help when I became lost.
- Getting lost all the time.
- The inability to be hyper-productive, respond to emails, do homework, or knock off to-dos on the fly.
It’s now that the average phone-admiring individual says ‘Ah-ha! See! Phones ARE needed to be a productive member of society today!’ To them, I respond with a few other changes that I began to notice:
- I was talking much more.
This happened for a few reasons. First, without a phone to look at while waiting in lines or sitting on a bus… I was bored. There wasn’t anything to do, so the options were either stare at a blank wall or actually ask that person with a unicycle how they got into their craft; as opposed to simply texting a friend, “dude there’s someone sitting next to me with a unicycle.”
Second, when engaging in conversations with others, I slowly stopped feeling a nervous twitch to bring the conversation to a close in order to check the endless stream of notifications piling up in my pocket; because there were none there. I was fully invested in every conversation, from beginning to end.
2. Fast paced life became trivial to me.
I have a distinct memory from one day about a month into my experiment. I had ten minutes to kill before class and I hadn’t brought my laptop with me that day. Reluctantly, I found a bench in the middle of the University Union and did the only thing available to me… I sat and stared. Five minutes passed, and I began to see how many people didn’t even notice I was there. In fact, I realized that no one noticed I was there. Everyone was using their phones.
I found two people who weren’t connected to their device in some way. I made eye contact with them and smiled. Then someone walked up to me. She looked concerned. “Are you okay?” she asked. I laughed. “Yes, I’m okay. Why?” “Oh… I just thought… um, never mind.”
Yes, this really happened. It had become so abnormal to put the phone away and simply sit and think that to do so caused a passerby to assume something was wrong. I started to become exponentially more aware of the rare disconnected nomads around me.
3. My friends stopped using their phones as much.
This one is important. When I used to sit down at a dinner table, the rule of threes took over. I’d learnt what this was from reading Reclaiming Conversation by Sherry Turkle. A quick overview of this phenomenon can be found here. Basically, when a group of three or more people sit at a table there is an unspoken rule that as long as three people are engaged in the conversation, it is appropriate for the others to check their phones. I had begun to notice the rule of threes play out within my own friend circles, and it was strikingly obvious when I no longer had the ability to leave the conversation.
I realized that if the topic became one of disinterest to me, instead of reaching for my phone as a scapegoat, my only option was to participate. I began learning how to deal with feeling uncomfortable in a social situation. This was an interesting phenomenon because until I got rid of my phone, I didn’t realize that I had been using my screen to cope with social discomfort at all.
Even further, when I was spending one-on-one time with someone, if they reached for their phone to look at anything, I simply had to wait until they were done. Instead of reaching for my own phone simultaneously, I spent countless minutes literally just staring at the wall in front of me waiting patiently for them to be done so that I could have their attention and time again. People started to notice. My friends began to feel awkward being on their phones around me. They felt bad. Some even apologized for checking who had messaged them when in my presence. It felt great. I had singlehandedly won back the undivided attention of those who I had been struggling to gain it from for years.
4. I had so much more free time.
Without the ability to mindlessly scroll through Facebook, Instagram, or Snapchat on the go, I realized how much time I had been wasting on those platforms. When I opened the browser on my computer and typed in those oh-so-familiar letters ‘f..a….c……’ I began to question my reasons for logging on in the first place. I deleted my social media.
I began to meditate. I got a digital alarm clock. I began reading books again to fall asleep at night. I felt liberated.
Of course as with all good things, this idealistic tech-free world I had created eventually came to an end. My friends practically gave up attempting to try to get a hold of me, since it became virtually impossible. My mom was worried about my inability to call 911 or AAA in an emergency situation, especially since my car was less reliable than a wet paper bag.
Eventually I gave in to the irresistible call to join society again. In a few months I found myself even logging back into Facebook and Instagram. I got a new pair of headphones for listening to podcasts in transit. My friends were finally able to get a hold of me.
At this point, you might be asking: was it even worth it then? To that, I respond without hesitation: YES. I think if there was any overlying lesson that emerged from my two month experiment off the grid, it was this:
I learned how to stop being a slave to my device.
Yes, I have a phone again. But I don’t have any apps that can inadvertently take my attention away from reality for long. I value mutual respect in the form of eye contact and undivided attention more than I ever could have understood before. I’m comfortable with silence. I’m okay with dozens of unopened notifications. I prefer to get lost if it means discovering a new way home.
The unfortunate reality of today’s society is that it’s incredibly difficult to participate without a phone. While omitting one entirely is definitely an experiment I recommend to everyone (even if just for a day), a more realistic approach is one that involves becoming aware of the control we might have lost to our devices. For me, I needed two months without a phone to discover this.
What will it take for you?
