The Invisible Cord

I imagine most of us have felt it-that immediate panic when we realized we are separated from our cell phones! Where is in? In the car? In the washing machine? Did I leave it in the bank? The post office? Did it fall out of my pocket? Anxiety sets in when we realize we are more than ten feet away from our treasured phones-the next room is often way too far away. What was life like before this invisible cord wrapped around us?

I’m not one that loves talking on the phone-and I do think that cell phones can pose a major distraction in school, in relationships, in life-in cataclysmic proportions. But they also provide so much function and connection in many other ways. Photos, videos, music, communication, creativity. I have written entire blogs on my phone while on the Jitney-I can call or message-my friends and family members for birthdays, anniversaries, weather reports, celebrations-share photos, check the weather, record thoughts, the possibilities are endless. Yet I know too much of a good thing can become not such a good thing.

However, if you’re not going to allow cell phones in schools-then you need to outlaw AR15’s and any other assault weapon. Who would have thought that there would ever have to be security guards at elementary schools? How many students have had to dial 911 when their classrooms were under attack? And what if they hadn’t had their phones-would there have been a greater loss of life? And if education is compulsory then schools need to be the safest places on the earth. It was after this event- (“Rubble litters the ground of Plaza Towers Elementary School after it was destroyed by a tornado on May 20, 2013, in Moore, Oklahoma. Seven 3rd graders died in the school when the tornado hit the building.) that I came to the realization that if you are legally bound to be in that classroom-as a minor- who is not yet able to decide that for yourself- than you should be protected at that school from every force of man and nature.

Every time I forget my phone, I think of the farewell calls from the Twin Towers and from Flight 93. What if someone’s last call had been to me and I hadn’t been there to answer? What if I had left my phone in the car or forgot to turn on the ringer?

I don’t think the solution is no phones-but perhaps no phone out of your pocket-or your backpack. I think perhaps phones can be a first line of defense in a violent and worrisome world. Look at how many crimes are being solved using cell phone records. I have rarely been in a waiting room, or an airport or a train station where every single person within my sight range is not on their phone. It surely seems to stave off boredom but perhaps has also become some sort of dependance.

My friend and I used to get lost in the woods for hours – following the deer trails and what we considered Native American foot paths. We’d canvas the area for the location of our next fort. Sometimes we’d set up camp for the night. We’d skate on hidden ponds in the woods and lay in the reeds looking up at the moon when we grew tired. We were unattached, untethered, free! I imagine that we gave up our freedom in order to stay attached. And surely there is no going back.

I believe device moderation has become another personal responsibility – as in eating or drinking too much. Not to minimize other potentially addictive behaviors -digital use has taken hold and is here to stay. We can set our own limits by modifying our screen time, employing mindful usage and occasionally declaring a digital detox. Perhaps as in anything new to our world or our culture- the grasp may be tighter at the gate - and then once we learn of its ramifications we tend to cut back-as in tobacco use or processed foods. Didn’t we grow up on Ring Dings and Devil Dogs?

As much joy as I have received from my digital devices-I also have experienced their pull on my autonomy and my freedom. The feeling of experiencing life unencumbered by the next phone call coming in – the need and ability for anyone to know where you are at each and every moment. The capacity for anyone to ascertain if I have received, acknowledged and responded to each incoming call, voicemail, email, and text message. I can barely keep track of it all.

There must be a way to find this balance-to create some distance between our depths and our devices- to be able to breath in and out the grandeur of life without this imaginary cord wrapped around us. No, I’m not ready to go off grid but I might be first in line at the initial support group meeting for the digitally consumed. Hold on a minute, my phone’s ringing.