The Last Time You Went Anywhere Without Your Phone

You’re probably reading this on the thing you can’t remember leaving behind.

I started writing this essay on my phone.

That should probably be the whole essay.

I was trying to remember the last time I went anywhere without it when another line came to me, so I opened Notes before it disappeared.

Later, while walking, I had another thought.

I raised my wrist and told my watch to remind me.

Very free. Very present. Just me, the afternoon, and two electronic devices helping me investigate my dependence on electronic devices.

I would like to say the irony was intentional.

It was not.

Try to remember the last time you left home without your phone.

Not because the battery died. Not because you forgot it and spent the entire drive wondering whether to turn around.

You left it on purpose.

You closed the door and became unreachable.

Most of us have to go back years.

Maybe we were children. Maybe we had bicycles on the lawn and only needed to be home before dinner.

Now I check my pocket walking to the car.

Wallet. Keys. Phone.

Then I check again, apparently worried someone has robbed my pants in the last six seconds.

Being unreachable used to be normal. Now it feels irresponsible.

Leave your phone at home and nobody imagines you enjoying the afternoon. They imagine an accident. A ditch. A personal crisis.

Or worse.

That you saw their message and chose peace.

So we carry it everywhere.

To the grocery store. To the bathroom. From the couch to the kitchen, even though the kitchen is twelve feet away.

Sometimes it vibrates.

Sometimes it does not.

We check anyway.

You are probably reading this from your phone right now.

That is the part that bothers me.

The phone is no longer interrupting us. We are interrupting ourselves.

A slow line. A red light. The minute before the movie starts. Any small stretch of life where nothing is happening.

We fill it before our minds can wander somewhere inconvenient.

A memory.

An idea.

The realization that we might be unhappy.

That last one probably hurt business.

Maybe the phone is not stealing our solitude.

Maybe we keep handing it over because solitude eventually asks questions.

I would think about that longer, but my watch says I have a reminder.

// Scorpio Veil

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