How my Phone Faded into the Background of my Life

A frightening number of us are addicted to our phones. Most of us now spend more time staring at screens than the real world. Life becomes 5 second vines, trending memes, strangers opinions, online arguments, endless ads, 24/7 news flashes, and emails which may or may not be important. A slot machine of infinite information. 

Over the years, I’ve had several intense break ups with my phones, even swapping to a dumb phone for an extended period. Each time, I noticed an increase in my attention span and ability to pay attention to the present. A decrease of noise in my head. It took a little longer for the automatic twitch to go away to reach for my phone or to check the news, but when it finally faded I hardly thought about it. 

Nowadays, I find that I never know where my phone is, and sometimes I forget about it until somebody calls me. I’ve even taken walks and left it at home (the best ever feeling!) As that kind of behaviour has become more normalised for me, the urges to check social media, or to quickly look something up online have dwindled to hardly anything. A slight noise in the background of my life. 

Most of my social media posts are now done quickly and intentionally via my PC or laptop, then I partake in my hobbies instead. 

I never watch a movie or even a Youtube video with my phone next to me, because when I choose to do something it’s an intentional use of my time. The last thing I want is to be disturbed or ripped away from my immersion. I want to understand what’s happening with characters on screen or what my favourite Youtubers have to say. 

The way I see it, if I can’t pay my full attention to a movie or a video then why the hell have them on in the first place? Clearly they’re not as interesting as the garbage on my other screen designed to rob my attention. In that case, I may as well flush the hours of my life down the toilet (because that’s what constantly refreshing data is like – continually flushing the toilet and hoping the water turns a different interesting shade). 

I’ve even started journalling again physically instead of digitally. For me, there’s nothing like the flowing of a sexy, smooth pen across luxurious paper. It isn’t just more cathartic -my thoughts flow differently too. And unlike a with a blinking cursor, I can’t censor myself or go back to edit what I wrote. My feelings are clear and true and sometimes obvious in the font style of my writing on a particular day. 

Stepping things up a notch, I’ve been practicing paying with my bank card instead of pulling out my phone. It’s a work in progress, but the longer my phone is out of sight, the more it stays where it belongs – in the background of my life. 

I admit that turning off zombie mode and breaking up with my phone has its downsides, but they aren’t what you think!

When your head’s facing up and when you’re fully in the present, you notice how everyone else is looking down. Oblivious. Addicted. Anxious. As somebody who loves being around other people, I find that incredibly lonely. 

It’s also led to me becoming painfully aware of other ways we’re increasingly disconnected from others around us. From self-service checkouts to paying via apps in restaurants and bars, the world is hell-bent on making sure we never have to interact with another human ever again. 

This leads to poor mental health and exacerbates social anxiety as our ‘social muscles’ weaken and atrophy. That effect is even more prominent in younger generations who have never known life without a screen or social media.  After all, it’s far easier to live behind a digital keyboard where you can emote while your real face remains blank and unchanging. Where you can flick between activities with a tap the second you get bored. Where you never have to experience real life rejection or social faux pas. Where you never have to think for yourself – the algorithm does it for you. 

We now can’t function without instant gratification. We can no longer pay attention to long pieces of texts or engage in a long conversation. We can’t even pay attention to our closest friends and family; precious people in our lives who may have a shorter time here with us than we realise. 

That’s tragic. But the worst thing of all is that we’re losing our humanity.  

Forging connections with others is part of what makes us human. Noticing the changing seasons or a beautiful smile. Meeting someone new.  Laughing with friends. Having new experiences. Playing. Reminiscing. Weeping. Grieving. 

So let’s stop shying away from being human and put down our screens. Let’s feel life’s uncertainties, fully engage in the present, and rediscover what it means to be alive.