Every morning, I grab my cell phone from my nightstand and pull it under the covers with me, compelled by a powerful curiosity (almost like an addiction) to see what’s happened overnight in the cyber realms occupied by my friends and me. It’s terrible. This is time better spent spooning my boyfriend or my dog or talking to either about how we’re going to spend the day. You know, real-world stuff.
It wasn’t always this bad. I think the nail in the coffin was Instagram—I downloaded the app and was a goner for days, scrolling and scrolling and barely mumbling responses to my friends and family.
Now, lurking on your phone in other people’s company is obviously rude—but there’s something more to it. People constantly mesmerized by their cell phones look like zombies … and I don’t wanna be a zombie!
Cool shouldn’t be a currency. You know that little buzz of anticipation you get after posting on Instagram? How you keep checking your phone to see who liked what photo when, etc.? There’s some weird power stuff we think we gain from “likes” and “favorites” and “retweets.” I do it to, and so of course I get it, but I also object. It feels too much like Don Draper-esque branding—like we’re promoting our lives as hip/fulfilled/fun to each other—and less like we’re just livin’ them, hiply, fulfilledly, and funly (pretty sure none of those are words).
The human spirit needs moments of quiet contemplation. With a smartphone, doing absolutely nothing is increasingly impossible to, well, do. Got to the bus stop ten minutes early? No problem! Just lose yourself in Face-space for a while. But history and science have proven that good ideas spring into being when our brains are otherwise unoccupied (Sir Isaac Newton? Loafin’ under an apple tree? Ringing any bells here?). That said, is it so far-fetched to think that lazing in a square of sun watching the ants hauling a piece of Dorito across the sidewalk might lead to profound revelations about your goals and troubles? I think not. Surely, nothing productive is happening in your brain cave while you’re stalker-scrolling through your ex-BF’s profile trying to detect a pattern of a new-girlfriendness in the chaos of comments.
Live—don’t report. The people who really kill it on Instagram always have the most scenic shots of the frostiest cocktails in front of the wildest sunsets with the all the best homeys. But how much time did they burn from the actual experience trying to capture it on their “device” just so? I don’t know, I think it’s okay to put down the phone and just drink the cocktail, soak up the sunset, laugh with your peeps. A superlative experience like that will carry on the collective memory (our brains are good like that!)—even if it isn’t hashtagged four different ways.
Hipster meditation. As humans in the Internet age, we’re mega-connected. It’s as enriching as it is exhausting. But … try this: Anytime you’re feeling extra crispy from the constant assault of content, just … shut off your phone. Sure, it feels wrong at first; you might feel naked and a little scared. But once you settle in, it’s exhilarating—like skinny dipping, or driving at night with your headlights off. True alone-ness is restorative. Simply being by ourselves for an hour or two without texting anyone or checking any status updates is kinda like the hipster version of meditating. Focus. Perspective. Quietness of mind. You can just grab it right out of the ether.
