For as long as my siblings and I have been living on our own, going up to visit my parents in rural Northern California, meant my two brothers and me sitting around in the living room, swapping stories with each other and with my parents. But once my mom retired, she discovered her phone. So we were a man down in our visits— it’d be my brothers, my dad, and me all visiting while my mom scrolled through her phone. We would even tease her about being addicted to her phone, but she’d rationalise and justify, but ultimately, we were down a man.
And he held out for years, but the two of them being retired together, eventually my dad fell victim too— quiet lonely days being the only partner not scrolling, he eventually found his way to death scrolling through Facebook. I remember a few years ago when I had a hard time talking to my dad on a visit because he was so buried in his phone. I teased him saying, “Hey, are you picking up some bad habits from Mom over there.” To my surprise, he put his phone right down and said, “Yeah, I guess so.” Then he gave me his full undivided attention. Nice job Dad. Commendable! That shit is no joke. Dad resisted for a long time, but that pesky and patient algorithm hooked him with custom curated content designed just for him and like the rest of us, he’s hooked.
It’s easy to judge them, but the worst part is it feels so good to be hooked—it’s all things we’re interested in. I’m no better. I noticed yesterday that while I had to have youtube on while I sat on the toilet, it was not enough stimulation for me (just like when one cup of coffee leads to two or three, one glass of wine leads to two or three) so I left youtube in the background while I played a game in the foreground. So I ticked away at solitaire while I listened at the same time. At a certain point, (probably around the time my legs started falling asleep) I noticed I wasn’t really even listening to the youtube thing that was supposedly SO interesting to me, that I just couldn’t miss or save for later. I gave it my attention, my watch time, and I was only half present, but I couldn’t tell you what it was about. I think more than anything, I just felt like I wasn’t alone.
But the truth is, I was more alone after watching that. I would have been less alone if I hadn’t locked myself in the bathroom for twenty minutes and consumed media, I would have been less alone had I just listened to the gradual refilling of the toilet and noticed the small leak in the plunger in the back, or if I had listened to the traffic outside or the sounds of the wind blowing through the trees or even the murmurs of my parents and siblings talking out in the living room, or if I had just noticed what the shag rug under my toes felt like or took note of the grime in the sink next to me. Being present in that way makes being alone bearable.
The allure of media is that it’s like hitting the pause button on the crushing nature of existence. Media is a listening ear, a warm friend, that actually makes me feel better. But the trap of it is that this friend isn’t healing. It’s a great listener and it does actually pause my loneliness, but only while I’m engaged with media. If I ever pick my head up to look around in the real world, the pain, loneliness and isolation is right where I left it. So it’s tempting to put my head back down underwater or in this case, back in my phone. But unfortunately, immersing myself in my phone only makes me want to further immerse myself in my phone.
But the treatment for phone addiction is being present. Just noticing my environment is a way of connecting and healing from the pain that I am (and we all are) unavoidably alone. I read in the book The Artist’s Way by Julia Cameron, that sometimes the future is so crushing that it can be crushing and the past is so painful that it’s too painful, but the present, no matter how crushing or painful the past or future may be, the present is always bearable and being present is immensely healing. But when it comes to the phone, it hijacks our present moments.
I can’t help but think about this in terms of time, since when we choose to give our attention to something, the currency pay with is called time. There’s a weird concept I’ve learned from meditation about the false importance we apply to some blocks of time versus others. In theory, the time I have today is no more important than my final moments being alive, but the way that I choose to spend my time today versus the way I would spend it in my final moments are radically different. If the angel of death whispered in my ear that these are my last ten minutes, I think (or at least I hope) that I wouldn’t say in response, “Well hand me my phone.” If I was on my deathbed, with moments left to live, I hope that I would spend those final minutes savouring the smell of the room or to taking in the texture of the paint on the walls, really soaking up the sounds of my grandchildren laughing or the love I have for my family. These final moments of life I arbitrarily apply meaning to and assume that my final moments are more important, but from a cosmic standpoint or bird’s eye view, there’s no difference in the value of those final moments than the current moments I have right in front of me. The beauty of this realization is that I don’t have to wait until Death whispers in my ear to draw this distinction between my current time and my final moments of time.
So when I think about the intoxicating pull of my phone to hit the pause button on my existence, my push back is to remind myself that these moments are no better or worse than my final moments. Is this how I want to spend my final moments and if not, is this how I want to spend my current moments. It’s a difficult battle to win, especially when countless dollars are spent to capture my attention to sell to the highest bidder. But the most effective pushback that I’ve found for myself is to just simply notice my environment. It sounds woo woo and out there, but when I’m present, it’s engaging my conscious brain and with that consciousness, I have more option to say yay or nay to the allure of my cell phone and the unhealthy break it gives me from existing.
How many times have I sat down to eat food I prepared and just started eating, it’s at these times that I’m most likely to pull out my phone and watch something. My pushback if I’m eating food, is to not only take inventory of my gratitude for the food, but to also notice the taste instead of just eating it and even to notice the sounds the food make in my my mouth as I chew it. With this level of awareness, I, whatever I is, is more available to make a choice about if I want to watch something as opposed to just by default flowing down river into watching something. I started this by talking about my parents and their cell phone addiction. It’s much easier to see it on someone else. But ultimately, the only control I have is with myself, and arguably, I don’t always seem to have control over myself. But in my highest thinking self, I would draw no distinction between these moments now and my final moments on this Earth and given these to be my final moments, I do my best to stay present and savour these moments instead of whispering back to Death, “Can you hand me my phone please?”