Off-line and drifting into the abyss with a silly grin
Something weird is going on with me and technology. Frankly I’m having a techie meltdown. I’m off-line and it feels like free-falling into a state of grace. What if I keep going? Like George Clooney in Gravity, drifting off into the abyss with a silly grin on my face.
The black screen of death came knocking last week on my beloved mobile after it slipped from my perma-grip, creeping steadily over my apps until they were all gone. I’ve tried everything to revive my darling friend, my best friend, truth be told, with the help of YouTube’s techie department but nothing works. Strangely, this coincided with biblical rain in the south of France which knocked off my WiFi. Can rain do that? I can’t even Google it. It’s just me and my fiddly fingers wondering ‘What’s it all about Alfie?’.
The week before, on retreat, the WiFi went down on the day I needed to file copy. And the week before that a big gust of wind seemed to knock it off course chez moi, if indeed it can do that. Note to self: Google how WiFi actually works once online again. So what’s the Universe telling me? Don’t give your old phone away in such a hurry next time? Make sure it’s insured? Surely not log off?
How could I go on without my podcasts, music, banking, Vestiaire buying and selling, Instagram updates, WhatsApp ping pong but mostly, mostly it’s the photos. I can’t stop taking photos of everything. They usually end up deleted because they’re usually rubbish. The Universe made me write that. Clearly it’s telling me I’m wasting my time taking all these photos which go nowhere, are never printed and take up unnecessary digital space. There’s certainly something to that. This week, I went on a bike ride with my middle boy Lou, so important to make time for the middle guy (I’m a parenting expert now, didn’t ya hear?). We chatted, enjoyed the autumn colours and raced each other down the lane. It was kinda special.
If I’d had my phone with me, I would have been taking photos of him, the leaves, maybe even a selfie (to be deleted later in harsh judgement). I might well have missed the moment. I probably would have missed the moment. Only thing is, now I have no reminder of what a wonderful afternoon we had idling through puddles on a crisp autumn day in Provence. It’s already fading from memory. I promise you Lou, it has nothing to do with you being the middle child and everything to do with me having a five second attention span. I need photos to remember. If you don’t take an image, did it even happen?
So have I learned anything from this Divine Intervention of a digital detox? Yes, I would like my phone back immediately, if not sooner. I appreciate it even more since having to stare into the middle distance at cafés and on trains, even if my brain enjoyed the daydreaming, my hands didn’t know what to do with themselves. Also from henceforth I am going to be very clear about my screentime, creating three slots during the day for dedicated use. Or maybe not.
The black screen of death came knocking on my beloved mobile