I’ve realized that the more I am connected to the virtual world, the less connected I have become to the three dimensional world immediately around me.
The reality of my dis-konnected-ness hit home a few days ago when my 2-year old said, as only a 2-year old can, “Daddy, put down your phone” (that’s my translation of her mishmashed syntax, but it was pretty close to that).
The sad thing is that I looked up from my phone, into her eyes, and said, “Stop that.” She had been tapping my arm at the time. And even as I looked at her, my mind was still trying to maintain concentration on the FB message I was composing before her interruption.
Interruption. Isn’t that ironic? My daughter, who is many years from independence without the need for adult supervision, including feeding and dressing and hygiene, my daughter has become an interruption to my virtual life.
Of course, I can protest all day that my work requires virtual connection, that my social life requires perpetual social media accessibility. I have many times justified my addiction (let’s call it what it is) by appealing to situations of urgency:
My wife is driving the car and it breaks down, she needs to reach me ASAP using Facebook, WhatsApp, text, and maybe even calling me.
I need directions to get to the pickup location for an item I just purchased on ebay.
When travelling abroad, I need Uber to get around.
When flying, I need access to ticket on my phone, the emails with the flight itinerary, and the airline’s app for flight updates.
How will I pay for things if I forget my wallet at home?
As compelling as the above reasons are (and there are many more, I’ve used them all over the last 7 years or so to hold on to my smartphone), there is one reason I am switching off my smartphone and replacing it with a dumb phone.
I’ll explain in the next post.