If you kept up with my last post, I was kind of shocked (horrified, really) by my screen time numbers over Winter Break. We’re talking six or so hours a day. Winter Break Sam was bored, burdened to her bed after having her wisdom teeth removed and was determined on finishing all of Game of Thrones by the end of January. If you’re so curious, she didn’t complete this. But it was a real problem. I was tethered to my phone tighter than a young mom with her leashed toddler on their first Disney vacation. A disaster just begging to fall apart.
After my crippling screen time diagnosis, I decided to check out the book Reclaiming Conversation by Sherry Turkle who proposed some interesting ideas about phones impacting our relationships, productivity, time on our feet, etc. The list goes on and on. Go read my last post if you want a mini-lesson on this without reading the book.
I decided to put it to the test. I had already started to minimize my phone time to under four hours a day (two of which are usually spent at the gym so this was a big reduction) and felt like seeing how essential it was, and picked a day on my calendar without a lot on my schedule. I tied up all loose ends the night before and informed my friends that I would be going off the grid. But you’ll still be driving and using your computer? Yes, semi-off the grid, I’m not a masochist.
I wake up at 7:30 a.m. like I do every day (lol). Snooze my alarm. Twice. Fall back asleep. Have my recurring dream where I try and smuggle a Jimmy John’s sandwich into a showing of Hamilton with my mom and get the boot. Wake up in a panic.
Knowing I would be off my phone for a good part of the rest of the day, I do one last foul sweep of social. I gracefully weave my way through Snapchat and take care of my streaks, check my LinkedIn notifications to make sure I wasn’t missing anyone begging to recruit me for a new position at their company with a 100k offer (I didn’t) and one hefty swipe through Instagram before I *gasp* turn my phone off and leave it face down on my nightstand. I can’t honestly tell you the last time I powered down that old girl but it felt good.
I live in a sorority house with 45 other girls, some of whom are already downstairs by this time so I grabbed my backpack and laptop, put on my vintage (read: from 7th grade) Ugg Boots and coffee mug from on top of my desk and slowly mosey my way downstairs for breakfast. Our chef makes us brunch every Friday and it's a perfect time to sit around the table and talk before everyone goes on with their day. There are already a couple girls in the kitchen having breakfast so I join them at a table in the corner, make my routine oatmeal recipe and tell them of my plan. We sit and had a nice little breakfast together for a good hour or so, a couple people coming and going every now and then.
The phenomenon was still there, though. Like Turkle stated in Reclaiming Conversation, once conversation came to a lull, or one person checked their phone, the rest followed like a school of ducklings. There was no going back. As the only person at a table of 8 without a phone, I made it my responsibility to keep the conversation that had just been cut off, going. However, was met with no responses. This happens often. The words we say to someone on their phone are lost in space. Met with the casual, ‘wait, what?’
At this point, I excused myself from the table and got ready to head to the gym. Our house is a little bit off campus and my gym is a good ten-minute drive downtown to 5th ave., and a five-minute walk from my garage to the lobby. In that time, I usually plug in my aux, call my mom or listen to a podcast. Today, well, it was weird. At first, I felt uncomfortable in the silence, just me, myself and my thoughts - what a nightmare. Within minutes, though, there was a shift. I realized that most of what is on my phone is pictures and memories from my past, or making plans for the future. Without access to either of those, I was kind of forced to engage with what was right in front of me - shocker.
With nothing to look at or listen to while I walked from the garage to the lobby, I people watched. I smiled at people that I would've otherwise passed on my way in. I stopped and chatted with the guy at the front desk who I would’ve walked by without a word and said hi to the woman who’s locker was next to mine. Although at first unnerving, it was refreshing to know that no one had any way of reaching me unless they came and found me in person. My only option was right in front of me.
At this point I really had no draw to my phone. The gym was playing music, I had my workout written down and there were plenty of people around me to chat with and entertain myself. It became something that was just unnecessary. Like a social weight that had been lifted off my shoulders, a barrier taken down, letting me freely engage with the world around me.
It wasn’t until I was on my way home a couple hours later when I realized I was just bored. Which is a funny little thing to think about because I had been completely engaged at the gym and was flipping through the radio channels on the way home; I was bored with the thoughts in my head. The alone time. The time to myself without an escape to occupy my mind (I'll let my therapist unpack this during our next appointment.)
Let me give you a gentle reminder of my commute: usually a total of six minutes. Six. Minutes. Don’t get me wrong, I love technology. I love being able to order a side order of guacamole for delivery in fifteen minutes and I genuinely don’t understand how Amazon Prime works - two days? Literally how? The logistics just don't add up. It fascinates me to the point where it keeps me up at night. But it gives us this ‘paradox of choice’ phenomenon where all of these amazing, mind-blowing options and choices paralyze us in our time, rather than increase productivity, which mind you, was the initial intention. Contrary to popular, and my belief before doing this, this day was one of the most stress free days I’ve had in years.
If you want to feel a little liberated from your five-year old toddler at Disney, unleash her. Leave her at home. Go do Disney on your own.
xoxo,
SRM
Samantha Miller (@samantharachelmiller) is a freelance writer from Chicago. She prides herself on her scary pulse on internet culture, her growing record collection and the amount of coffee she can consume before combusting. Follow Samantha Miller's work on Linkedin, and sign up for updates on her blog.
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