The day after I returned from holiday, I’d booked to go to a work event in Glasgow. Kind of crazy, but I really wanted to go, even if it meant getting a very early flight and having to get up at stupid-o’clock to get to Heathrow!
The taxi was booked for 4am. At that time in the morning every minute counts and when the taxi driver arrived a few minutes early, I hurriedly put the last things in my bag and got into the car.
We chatted away for a while, then once we were 20 minutes up the road, I looked for my phone… and remembered it was on charge where I left it in the lounge.
Aarrggh!
The sense of panic was visceral.
The taxi driver said we could go back to get it, but it would seriously jeopardise getting to the airport on time, so advised we carry on.
I frantically went through how I was going to cope without it. I had printed my boarding pass and had the address of the venue on my laptop, which was in my bag, so I realised that I could at least get to where I was going.
I was due to meet another participant called Mary at the airport whom I only had on WhatsApp. I tried to connect my laptop to the taxi driver’s wifi to find her on Facebook to send a message without success. I studied her blurry picture on Facebook hoping I would be able to recognise her at the departure gate.
As I sat at the gate, I couldn’t help but notice everyone else on their phones. Most people were holding them in their hands the whole time. I asked a woman if she was Mary, but she said no.
On the plane, again people had their heads down looking at their phones – even during take-off and landing.
I got my book out and did a sudoku.
And it felt surprisingly freeing.
On arrival I decided not to take the aiport bus into town, which we’d been told was frequent and cheap, but opted for a taxi, which would take me directly to the door of the venue. My brain told me because I didn’t have Maps on my phone, I wouldn’t be able to find my way once in the city.
I realised later I could have asked the bus driver where to get off, and then asked people in the street for directions, but in my haste that didn’t cross my mind.
Once I arrived people were so understanding. I met up with Mary and we had a laugh about the situation.
When it came to going out for dinner, people kindly thought to include me and made sure I knew where we were going.
And in between I noticed my brain had space to relax and think.
When it came to the return journey, my husband, Max, had said he’d meet me from the train station in Portsmouth when I got home and I wondered how I would let him know which train I was on.
When I got to Woking, on the platform there was an old-fashioned BT phone box. Hooray! I asked one of the station staff if it was working. “Oh no!!” he said, as if it was a ridiculous question. I explained my situation and he said, “Here, use my phone.”
I called Max and miraculously he answered (he’s one for having his phone on silent or not with him!). So all was well and when I got to Portsmouth, he was waiting.
Why am I telling you all this?
After the initial panic and shock, I decided the only way to deal with it was to embrace the experience of being phone-less.
It was quite a revelation. I realised:
🤔 I spend so much time looking at a little screen in my hands and not seeing what is going on around me
🤔 the phone becomes a filter through which I experience life, rather than being present to what is in front of me
🤔 how much of a security blanket it can be. Not having Maps made me take a taxi. I was staying in my personal bubble. What if I’d asked people to help me?
🤔 how we miss out on human interactions and social contact because of it. I would never have had a conversation with the station man or received his kindness if I’d had my phone.
🤔 I had so much more space to think and read uninterrupted without my phone. How can I make sure I do more of this?
🤔 from a faith perspective – if I put so much trust in my phone and see it as a security blanket, how is that affecting my reliance upon God?
The evening I got home, we were going out for dinner and I intentionally left my phone behind!
Of course, phones are great tools and very useful. I would not be without one, but this experience has shown me I need to review how I relate to mine.
I am putting it out of reach in the evenings and experimenting with not interacting with it so much during the day.
What do you do to ensure your phone is not taking over your life?
I’d love to hear. Send me an email: catherine@edenboroughcoaching.co.uk