Taking Time to Unplug

You know you're hooked on technology when forgetting your phone at home puts you in a panic. Sad, but true.

I was on campus working from 8 a.m. to 5 p.m. the day I forgot my phone, and not having a phone almost felt like I was missing an arm. It was awful. I would jump and search around for my phone every time my coworker's phone buzzed next to me, only to remember that mine was safe at home. The wrapper next to me would catch the light every so often and make me think it was my phone glowing with a new text from my Wesley.

The office was mocking my pain.

Once I was finished at work and left my computer, I was cut off from technology completely. It was a weird feeling. I couldn't call, text, or snapchat anyone or look up an address on my map app (I'm way too dependent on that thing, but this is the life of someone born without an innate sense of direction). No one knew where I was and had no means (short of sending smoke signals) of contacting me.

With nothing else to do as I clomped down the hill, I actually paid attention to my surroundings. The bright tulips were opening and dripping with water from their shower from the sprinklers; fuzzy, newborn ducks were quacking as they furiously splashed after Mama Duck; the scent of freshly mowed grass tickled my nose.

I felt free—free from Big Brother and from all the distractions of technology. It was just me and the wide world.

As nice as technology is, sometimes it feels good to unplug and power down in order to connect more with the beautiful, real world.