“And what exactly is the motivation for doing this?” a friend asked me a week ago as I handed over to her my IPod earphones, computer power cable and beloved blackberry she was to foster-parent the week I would go without. “Awareness I guess, I want to know more about the relationship I have with all three and can only really do that with their absence”. I knew I had an active relationship with all three technologies, very active. Despite knowing this however I was truly not aware of just how much each mode of technology was distracting me from the appreciation my present moment.
A few days earlier I could be found alone in my kitchen passively scrolling through my blackberry apps and half-assed listening to a podcast distracting myself from the quiet empty apartment. Within all this pointless scrolling I came across the list of resolutions I had made two weeks earlier and realized if ever there was a time to go tech free for a week this was it. No job interviews, no anticipated important phone calls; a perfect time to disconnect. Ultimately I was hoping that this exercise would provide the perspective that had eluded me of late. Perspective is found in the present moment and as I sat on this Friday night very much distracted in my own space plagued with anxiety as to what was next, I knew that this was an exercise that I needed to take.
Once committing mentally, fear found me instantly. Like a drug addict aware of their last fix the cold sweats came. A few deep breaths later I decided a list would need to be made. Nothing fights fear like lists.
When one goes on vacation a simple out of office suffices. However when you disconnect but want to remain within one’s very active life you need to handwrite a heap of shit. First the gcal gets transcribed to ensure existing appointments are kept. Then there is a list of phone numbers you will need, a list that seems more extensive than you had originally thought. I became fatigued from transcribing at the half way mark stopping to nostalgically ponder the day when I was able to remember not just one but several 7+ digit numbers in my head. Now on the long list of numbers is my own landline, a number I have failed to learn by memory regardless of being at the same postal address for four years. This made me sad. With the out-of-office set and my make shift day planner comprised of pieces of looseleaf paper and rogue post-its assembled I was ready.
Still in the kitchen I hypothesized how the absence of each would affect me. The IPod earphones I worried little about. They seemed to be a luxury item to me, something easily discarded with minimal withdrawal twitch. The computer I would for sure miss more as the warm light of the machine and the subtle hum made the bedroom always seem less utilitarian. For me the blackberry would be the hard one. The idea that my thumb muscles would atrophy and I would not have my pocket friend for a week made me really nervous; a balloon without its string tether. As I pondered this I noticed the little red light blinking almost pulse-like letting me know a message waited. I would twitch with this one gone fore sure.
Sunday night came and as the friend left with the packaged peripherals I sat in the same kitchen, a kitchen now significantly quieter then a few nights before and thought what’s a boy to do? A nice meal was eaten and to bed I went shortly there after. A sense of relief found me as soon as the bag of tech it made me drowsy so with no dotcoms to browse and nothing else to do head-to-pillow it was.
The next morning I awoke and had completely forgot of the techno-cleanse, panicking a bit when my computer would not start. Relaxing once realizing why, I went about my day only to suffer the same amnesia a few minutes later as I dressed noticing that my pockets were unbalanced with wallet in one and no blackberry in the other. It was fast becoming clear just how much of a habitual user I was. Withdrawal was fully on its way.
First thing I missed was my music when boarding a bus I longed to press play. The longing never lasted long though as I started to giggle as the ride alone began to entertain. In the IPod commercial a few years back I remembered the white silhouette dancing energetically against the vibrantly colored background. He or she had just become that much more alive now that they found their music. On the bus that morning I sat confused by this memory watching all those with the white iPod earphones dangling from under their winter hats as they stared at either the floor or outside, never at each other. I was waiting for the dancing to start but instead saw only the muted unvibrant nature of a truckload of POWs being moved between detention centers. Not even a smile. The same zombification plagued those walking in the street as their music played. Sure they were moving but they were adamantly ignorant of those unconnected beings that surrounded them. Almost always walking briskly, they moved fearful of eye contact as if should a stare be returned with a non ‘iPodder’ the director of the self-generated music video they were in would yell a deafening ‘CUT!’. I have seen this same determined yet stoic stature before in point and shoot video games; the iPod has made us avatars in our own waking world. I was remembering an article a few years back concerning the increased rate of loneliness within urban environments as a man sat down next to me on the metro. His earphones, state of the art for sure, almost enclaved his entire head. A head that he covered quickly with his hoody, sinking down into his metro seat to read his book alone in his temporary cave. Montreal is a city of almost two million but for this man it is a city of one. I wanted to say that this made me sad but seconds into passing judgment I realized that I do the same. I was made aware of this as the week cleanse progressed with sounds around heard almost as if for the first time, so many noises new to me but bypassed before for the sake of lady gaga. Who was I to judge? Despite most of this new noise being more akin to garbage trucks instead of Hans Zimmer it is important to hear I reckon for both one’s personal safety in avoiding potential hazards but as well for the grounding nature it has on the individual within their own environment. I am not sure I felt necessarily ‘partnered’ to the group of McGill students chatting on the same street corner about who was the hottest professor but I for sure felt less alone hearing this idle and very human chitter-chatter.
In the middle of the week I was due to meet up with a friend who was in my neighborhood a mere few blocks away. On the phone we were trying to figure out where to meet and it quickly became frustrating when we both could not figure out the best intersection walk towards. The problem itself could have been solved quickly opening a browser window and trusty google maps but as the computer was acting as an iPaperweight for the week we were left with our own internal cartography. Only a minor annoyance at best the problem was solved and we were on the street heading towards a central café once we figured out where exactly we both were. That was truly the extent of pain felt sans the computer. Movies I watched in theaters or in my own living room, shops I browsed in person, bank balances I checked at branches and instead of porn (with the roommate it would have been awkward watching rugby videos in the shared living space without pants) I imagined actual men from the gym. With that drug gone I had adapted easily much to my surprise. What was also surprising was that without the computer I had the most restful sleeps. Seven to eight hrs of deep dream filled slumber that would have been clipped to 6hrs the week before with a few minutes on Etsy, a couple more wall posts and one ‘I really should look for a job’ aimless point and click. This week I realized how much my computer usage was part of my domestic routine; enter the apartment-take off coat-check the computer, wake up-check the computer-jump in the shower, etc. What was I checking that was so important it needed its own space between nourishment and hygiene? Those friends and bonds most intimate found me in person or via my landline, the emails I missed held no life changing content and facebook survived without me. Though a self-induced habit, I was very much at the mercy of it. Now I am not naïve, I know I will be back intertubing something fierce soon enough. It is fun and connects you to the rest of the world if used wisely, but unwise use disconnects you from your own. No more passive point and click.
With the blackberry I was surprisingly underwhelmed at how the week without affected me. Prior to the week I would panic when I couldn’t find it, I always placed it tabletop at home or café ensuring it was a quick-grab should the light flicker and I always made sure it was fully charged; my baby would always have food. I fully expected once it was out of my life I would climb the walls with longing but instead once freed of the animalistic need to check the glorified casio as if it were an infant my shoulders dropped deeply. With the only urge to check found in those moments where one waits briefly, a friend going to the washroom, paying the bill at a café , waiting for the metro etc. Instead in these movements were the most social seconds in which quick conversations found themselves with complete strangers. Conversations previously thwarted for the sake of my thumbs. Yesterday when the peripherals were returned it was the site of the blackberry that made me a bit sad. I was getting used to these spontaneous conversations and was afraid that they would go away. I did not miss it for a second.
So all this to say no grand life paths have been laid out before me on account of my disconnect, stone tablets take longer then a week to carve. The week off has though clearly defined my relationship with technology and this awareness will help to harness the haphazard relationship I have with it. The blackberry stays on silent and in my bag or coat; there is no business case for it ever to beckon me again with a buzz or the flash of the red light. I am not a surgeon; my calls should be at the mercy of me and not the reverse. Once I have the place to myself the computer will have its own room, away from the bed. Until then it shuts down at 9pm, shuts down completely, no buzz, no hum, no ecuddle. The iPod is played only when it is music I want and not avoidance. Music is yummy but a defensive dance floor beat without the dancing is just nihilistic.
So very glad I did this, the presence of the present moment is that much more secure now with personal parameters set.
