Homecoming of 2015 began with a horrible accident.

I was leaning over my balcony, mindlessly scrolling through my phone and talking to a friend nearby. I was lost in a conversation, or maybe just lost in thought.

At some point I stumbled, lost my grip and it happened. I watched my phone fall through my hands and off of the third story balcony.

There it went, careening through the open air, before it nearly decapitated an oncoming pedestrian and smashed onto the pavement below.

My technological connection to the rest of humanity had just shattered in front of my eyes.

I am no stranger to losing phones and have certainly broken my share of belongings, but the catastrophic damage that had just fallen upon my phone was an unprecedented tragedy. I was devastated -- who was I without this cellular extension of myself?

But as I went the next week completely phoneless, devastation transitioned into a new approach to life. My day was uninterrupted by notifications, free from constant distraction.

Slowly, my perspective shifted away from a tiny screen and toward the beautiful happenings of day-to-day life.

Instead of mindlessly wandering through virtual reality, I wandered through my own community. I noticed the nature around me, smiled at strangers, read books late at night instead of scrolling through Instagram.

It was a whole different world without the glow of my trusty iPhone.

But this shift in perspective came with its share of discomfort. I felt isolated knowing I couldn’t call someone for help. I felt disconnected without constant contact to my friends and family.

And I couldn't escape these moments of discomfort through the distractions of a phone.

The truth is that the anxiety of losing a phone reflects a deeply human insecurity. We are all terrified to face the uncertain depths of reality. We break up silence, find something to do and avoid stepping into the unknown at all costs.

Smart phones and fancy apps sell the appearance of connection, but they really only leave us unfulfilled and more alone. Although technology plays an important role in society, genuine, riveting experience flourishes outside the confines of a screen.

I’m still attached to my phone and I know most of us are. But, if we let distractions consume us we’ll miss out on the enchanting moments of everyday life.

Lasting connections cannot be made through plastic-coated and pixelated illusions.

It’s time to slow down, lose the phones and find ourselves a little more.