"Being without my phone was like walking around without underwear; everyone could tell something was missing but somehow, it made me more confident. "
Walking to class in a daze, my stupor was broken as a bump in the sidewalk caused my phone to fly from my hand. Realizing too late I should’ve put on that damn screen protector, the flawless glass was shattered against the wet pavement. After an emergency late night trip to the Verizon store, I faced the prospect of waiting a whole day to get it fixed. No phone for one day? NBD.
BIG freakin’ D as it turns out. The next 24 phone-less hours were therapeutically revealing, like losing a limb only to discover how incredible the remaining ones are. My first obstacle was getting through an hour and a half of an evening class without texting. Thankfully, I sat next to a friend who was able to augment my usual texting with genuine interaction. Crisis 1 averted.
Getting into bed that night after only an hour of homework that would’ve taken three with phone-related distractions, I realized that I wouldn’t be able to get up without my phone’s alarm. Waking up panic-stricken two hours early, I decided to hit the gym before class. Being lazy and easily distracted, the prospect of working out without music from my phone was worse than running without a sports bra. I was pleasantly surprised to find that without anything to look at to avoid eye contact or drown out conversation, I exchanged sweaty smiles and grunts with several juiced-up young men. Not a bad way to start the day.
Walking around campus with my head held high and ears wide open, instead of buried in a screen or plugged into headphones, I noticed things. I watched the clouds and trees move in the wind. I smiled at strangers. Without my usual crutch, I was forced to make confident eye contact. It was freeing to be a little uncomfortable. Being without my phone was like walking around without underwear; everyone could tell something was missing but somehow, it made me more confident.
I’ve read studies about how we become less and less able to interact socially the more we depend on social media to communicate. It’s simply easier to bury our faces in our phones than to look at someone who makes us blush, easier to pretend you’re in an impenetrable bubble than to acknowledge that our bubbles intersect. Throughout the day, it was like I was transported back to before I had a phone, or before phones had internet capabilities. I found my way to the chiropractor without using MapQuest, got to work without a reminder, thought of the right lyrics to "Hello" and even kept track of the time well enough to make it to class early. These things can be done without a phone, but we are never forced to do them because we simply don’t have to.
My day without my phone left me with some valuable take-aways. I’m reassured that I am not so hopelessly lazy and distractible, that I can’t function without my electronic cheat sheet. I can withstand long waits and awkward eye contact without a ready distraction. I am still able to get lost in my own head; there’s enough up there to keep me at least as entertained as my Twitter feed. I even had to look into eyes that make my knees go weak and my heart skip, but I did it. And guess what? It was pretty damn liberating.
