Recently, my once fully functioning iPhone was swapped out for one with a shattered screen with glass chipping off. Vertical green lines appeared where my background should and it looks like nothing short of a disaster. I'm vaguely certain that someone ran it over, but that's a story for another time. What's important is how wonderful it has been to not have a phone over the last couple days.
You find out who really wants to talk to you.
When getting in touch with someone isn't as easy as shooting them a text, it becomes clear who really wants to chat with you and who really is just doing it for convenience purposes. In an age of instant gratification, not having a phone has helped me understand that texting is just that: a way to instantly get attention for yourself. Not having a phone can help you find those people who are in it for the instant gratification and who are in it for the actual conversations.
Talking to everyone all the time actually sucks.
Keeping up with texts, messages, group chats, emails, notifications and all the rest all the time is just insane. We can get so consumed in our various communication platforms that it gets overwhelming, and we forget that we can just take a step back sometimes and ignore it. If nothing else, breaking your phone is an experiment in not being able to reply to everything at all times and in realizing that if a Facebook message has to wait a couple hours before being recognized, the world (probably) won't implode.
No more time suck
With finals approaching, I have four different projects due this week. Four. Not having a phone couldn't have come at a better time. I'm no longer distracted by Snapchat, Facebook, Instagram, Pinterest, etc because I inadvertently got rid of those distractions. Sure, I can get distracted all the same on my computer, but at least I don't have a device buzzing at my side when trying to write all the poems and essays I have due this week.
Losing the baggage
They say you never know what you have until it's gone. I never realized how much I was attached to my phone before I lost it. Even then, I've been carrying around my broken, irreparable phone that I cannot do absolutely anything with, for no reason other than because it felt right. I'm so accustomed to bringing my phone with me wherever I go so that I'm constantly in the loop. Now that I don't have my phone, I feel a little bit lighter and a little bit less anxious, because now I can choose when I want to be social, instead of always being readily available. The loop will be there waiting for me whenever I'm ready for it.
