#9: One Month Without A Phone
we're all cyborgs, but not all of us realize it
Forty days ago, I dropped my phone through the crack between the elevator door and the 15th floor of my apartment building. I didn’t even realize it had fallen through the narrow space until I looked down expecting to see it and didn’t. Then I heard three faint sounds of metal hitting metal and said “Shit.” It was a freak accident, but in hindsight, was entirely preventable. I was carrying two bags containing my snorkel gear, hammock, book, snacks, and water bottle for a day on the North Shore. I remember carrying both bags over my left shoulder with my left hand pinching the bottom right corner of my phone so that I could use my right hand to poke the down button on the elevator while simultaneously carrying a Yeti mug of freshly Aeropressed coffee. Since I already had plans for the entire day, none of which required a phone, I decided to get in my friend’s rental car and deal with the phone situation later.
Day 1
As we make our way from town towards Haleiwa, I notice the first difference in being phone-less. Instead of looking down at my phone and most likely scrolling Instagram, I’m staring outside the window. You might be visualizing a peaceful version of me staring out into the beautiful blue Pacific Ocean but that wasn’t the case. I’m feeling irritated and uncomfortable as I sit in silence without my expensive brick of metal in between my fingers. We’re also driving through the middle of Oahu so instead of seeing the serene Hawaiian coastline, I’m just looking at other cars and the occasional military base.
Fortunately, we have a packed day ahead of ourselves and start out with acai bowls at Haleiwa Bowls. I learn that I’m still happy to pay $14 for an aesthetic delicious smoothie bowl even if I can’t post a story of it. The first silver lining of being phone-less is revealed - I’m happy to buy an overpriced bowl of fruit & stuff even if I can’t get any social media points out of it. Let the record show I’m in it for the taste, not the clout.
Our next stop is the surf shop where we ask about rental options and surf conditions. It seems like the waves will be better in the afternoon so we keep driving up the North Shore to Lani’s to look at some turtles. Instead of looking at the happy turtles swimming through the camera app on my phone screen, I watch them directly with my own eyes - which to be clear, makes for a better viewing experience. At one point, I look around me and among the twenty or thirty tourists along the stretch of sand, I can’t help but notice that most of them have their phones out to presumably take pics or vids of these sea creatures. It reminds me of the majority of music concerts I’ve been to where people have their phones out:
Our next stop is Waimea Bay where we huck ourselves off the 25 foot cliff into the water a couple of times. Luckily for me, I’ve been to this place enough times that I have no urge to ask for a video of me jumping off. Otherwise I’d be kinda sad since I don’t have a phone anymore. After an hour or so, we end up at Pipeline - not to surf, but rather so my friends can at least see this legendary spot. Looking left, you see the entirety of the Seven Mile Miracle. I think to myself that if I had a phone I would definitely be taking a picture right now. Instead, I force myself to enjoy the view organically which takes more concentration than it probably should’ve - a symptom of my iPhone embedding itself into my every activity, moment, day.
We end up back in Haleiwa and as we’re parking to get lunch at no. 7 food truck, I can’t help but notice how anxious I feel. It’s low in intensity and barely detectable. I’m not hyperventilating, but definitely not chilling like I should be if I was having fun on the North Shore. I realize that I’m worrying about not having my phone with me. What if someone calls me or if there’s a work emergency? I can’t help but go down the rabbit hole with each subsequent hypothetical event becoming less likely. My mild anxiety of phone detachment syndrome is quelled by the fact that it’s time to surf. My mind eases a bit knowing that even if I still had my phone, I wouldn’t be able to carry it out into the ocean. After surfing, we drop the rental boards and head to Ka’ena Point just in time to catch the tail end of sunset.
On the hour long drive back to town, I feel a mixture of relief that I was able to make the most of the day without my phone, but I’m still worrying about what I’m going to do about my phone. When I get home, I make the rounds and check the various social media accounts I have (Instagram, Twitter, Facebook, yep - even LinkedIn). I distinctly remember thinking the Instagram desktop experience is way less entertaining than on the app. Perhaps that was a good thing.
Might as well keep it going
Fortunately, the next day was also packed with activities on the east side of Oahu. When it was nearing the time I was supposed to get picked up, I was hunched over my laptop waiting to get the blue “We here” text from my friend Parker via iMessage. We drove to Kailua, stopping along the way at the Pali Lookout. After grabbing some tandem kayaks, we dragged them to Kailua Beach and paddled towards the Mokes, a pair of islands off the coast of Oahu. After some cliff jumping, we made a slight detour to attempt to catch some waves which is a lot harder than we thought. At some point during Day 2, I decided to wait and see how long I could go without a phone. I saw it as both a challenge to see if I could survive, but also as an experiment to see what I would replace my phone time with.
Maybe we’re all a bit addicted
The average American checks their phone a lot with some sources like this one reporting 344 times per day. If you don’t believe that, you can get your own personal metric from checking the Screentime app.
Let’s say hypothetically you were addicted to your phone. How would would go about your day if you couldn’t live without your phone? Maybe you would check your phone within the first ten minutes of waking up (71%), feel uneasy with leaving it at home (74%), or immediately check it whenever you get a notification (70%). Perhaps you would feel a sense of panic when the phone battery dips below twenty percent (48%), use your phone when taking a dump (64%), deem it your most valuable possession (45%), check it when on a date (43%), or even use it when driving (35%). If there was an addiction, there would be a sense of dependence on the substance and a sense of denial in accordance. Well, I also didn’t think I was addicted to my phone just like how I also didn’t think I was addicted to caffeine. I think it’s socially acceptable to be addicted to your phone or coffee since both are so intertwined with today’s society. The percentages above are the percent of Americans who agree with each statement. That’s a lot of people who are addicted to their mobile devices and chances are many of us would be included.
What changed from being phone-less for over a month
Over the last forty days without a hand-sized supercomputer by my side, I’ve had to be self-reliant. I think there’s two definitions with the more common version being the independence from relying on others. In this context, I think of being self-reliant as not needing anyone or anything not to just survive, but also accomplish my daily goals, get shit done, have fun, etc.
By necessity, I needed to plan my days so I knew roughly when and where I’d be to let people know my plan. If I was going somewhere new, I needed to look up the directions on Google Maps from my laptop before I left. It was daunting having to remember all the street names and step-by-step directions, but at least it was better than our parents’ generation of physical maps. The inability to pick up the phone and text my friends when plans changed forced me to plan ahead and coordinate on when/where to meet up. In a world where we can always fall back on sending the “yo running a bit late” text, the notion of setting a time and place to meet and then expecting both people to actually show up on time is kinda wild - which is low key a bit sad.
The most unexpected part of the last month+ is the lack of boredom. Across all the moments where I had a few minutes to spare and would’ve normally checked my phone, I just did absolutely nothing… I didn’t carry around a book to flip through or a notebook to jot down thoughts. I just sat or stood there. Without the constant barrage of new emails, slack messages, or Instagram stories to consume every thirty minutes or so, I found my mind would just wander in no particular detectable pattern. Sometimes I would think about what I was going to cook for dinner later that day, how my body feels in terms of any stiffness or soreness from the previous days’ physical activities, or I’d zoom out and think about things like where I want to live in the fall (since I have zero idea so far). I guess you don’t feel bored from not having a phone to check while waiting; you feel bored if your life is boring.
I filled the void of not having a phone with being more aware of my surroundings. I noticed the markings on the tree that I normally park my moped next to when I’m surfing at Kewalo’s. Those indentations all up along the tree indicate that it’s a coconut tree because workers will climb up the tree to ensure that coconuts don’t end up falling on people’s heads. Other times, I would people watch and pick up on the emotions of the people around me based on their tone of voice. The ability to note that a nearby couple is subtly fighting from the tension in their voices may seem like a superpower, but it’s more likely that it’s within normalcy and goes unnoticed from the fog of constant phone usage.
The biggest takeaway from this whole unplanned experiment is that I seriously don’t need to check my phone that often. The hustle culture, blind worship of optimizing productivity, and the grindset meme has led to the obsession of constant phone checking. Checking to see if there’s a new newsletter to read, Slack message to respond to, IG story to view. Gradually over time, it became a habit to check my phone at every moment when I had at least ten seconds to spare. I would check my phone at red lights, when waiting for my oatmeal to cook in the microwave, and even when crossing the street (with the walking light on, but still not good).
Not having a phone to pick up, unlock, open app, scroll, scroll some more, then put down made me realize how little I was missing out on. I’ve still been checking social media like Instagram and Twitter, but I do it only once or twice a day from my laptop. It’s not like I’m going hermit mode and abandoning society. I’m still very much plugged in and consume the same content more or less, but now it’s when I actually want to rather than falling into the learned instinct of reaching into my pocket every time there’s a lull.
Moments when I wish I had a phone
As romantic and peaceful as it sounds to be phone-less, at the end of the day, the smartphone is an incredible product with tons of utility. I was able to keep my daily lifestyle more or less the same, but there were a few times I wish I had a phone:
For me, the camera is one of the most valuable features in a smartphone. There were plenty of times I wish I could’ve taken a pic or video of what I was doing - whether it was a meal I made or a view from a hike. It was nice to just enjoy the moment, but there were definitely times I wish I could’ve snapped a pic and I also don’t think that would’ve detracted from being present.
There were a few times when I was meeting up with friends so I would have to bother other friends by giving their number or asking them to get in touch with the other person. It ended up working out, but would’ve been logistically much easier to just have my own phone.
I don’t want to be dependent on music to have a good workout, but having a good workout playlist does make lifting much more enjoyable. It took every ounce of willpower to push through some heavy squats when 24 Hour Fitness was blasting the latest pop music. There’s nothing quite as motivating as the sounds of Meek Mill or Lil Baby shouting into your eardrums.
Actions now that I have a new phone
At some point in the period of being phone-less, I started to think about how I would use the phone differently once I got one, no matter whether it was from my old phone miraculously being retrieved or from buying a new phone. I’ve come to appreciate a few apps like Camera, Spotify, Strava, Google Maps, Audible, and Notes that genuinely improve my quality of life. Here are a few ways I plan to use my phone going forward, some of which I was already doing and am continuing:
No notifications other than phone calls
Sleeping in a different room than where I charge my phone so I don’t check it right before or after sleeping
Not having Slack or work email on my phone - This could come back and bite me if I respond to something too late, but so far I have never had a moment where I actually needed to respond immediately. If there’s something that is truly that urgent, the root problem is more likely not having the right process / system in place to address the problem in the short-term without my involvement
Not bringing my phone with me for certain trips - If I’m going surfing, getting groceries, to yoga class, or anywhere where the phone is not necessary, then I’ll leave it at home. This is for sure a direct action from being phone-less. Before this, I felt like I would have to carry my phone with me everywhere.
Wait until I actually need an app before I download it - I’m currently setting up my new phone from scratch which is more manual, but I also get to be more thoughtful about which apps I download. I’ve downloaded a few apps I know I’ll immediately start using like Spotify and Google Maps, but I’m holding off on downloading the nice-to-haves like LinkedIn and UberEats.
Buying AppleCare - I’ve destroyed or lost two phones in the last two years. I hope a pattern isn’t forming, but at this point, I’d rather pay for peace of mind rather than constantly worrying about my phone or getting pissed off at myself in the future if I do break it again.
At the end of the day, the phone is just a tool, a very useful tool. I’m not ready to go full hippie and be both phone-less and barefoot, but at least I know I won’t have a mental breakdown the next time I drop my phone down an elevator shaft or slam a car door into it (RIP my last last phone). It was an interesting monthlong+ experiment to be phone-less and there’s plenty of issues with how we use smartphones today, but they’re definitely still net positive for society.
If I adopt any good habits out of this, hopefully those small improvements compound over time and maybe this $1,000 mistake will have paid off, maybe not. Regardless, at least I learned how to sit in discomfort and be self-reliant. Hopefully you don’t need to lose or break your phone to learn what I did and may we all forever strive to be like this guy:
As always, leave a comment or message me on Twitter if you have any questions/feedback/ideas!