It was one of the worst Balancing Stick poses I have done possibly in years. The tendon in my left angle was stiff and a little sore – and try as I might, I just couldn’t sustain the balance. I felt like I stepped back years in my yoga practice. Only I needed to get back in the game. I didn’t do yoga at all while the kids were here and when I woke up yesterday morning, I had the kind of shpilkes (anxious energy) that yoga best cures. I pulled out my mat, called up a video on my phone and got to work, using a routine common at my yoga studio.
When the kids were here, I think we were out, about and active enough that even if I wasn’t doing yoga, I was moving enough. But four days of travel with more than 14 hours of flying and an eight hour ferry each way may have short-circuited me. Luckily, I knew what to do and keep a very nice yoga mat and block here. Sometimes the hardest yoga is the most needed – and this was one of those times.
Getting back to yoga is fantastic, but there’s another source of shpilkes I need to address: my screens.
Mobile devices are like cigarettes that double as pacemakers, transplanted kidneys and insulin pumps. We need them and the wreak havoc on our minds. I literally can’t run my life without my devices. My entire work is in my laptop. I also do my banking, pay bills, buy airline tickets, check the doorbell, set an alarm, keep my calendar, buy household supplies, get directions, hail taxis, listen to music/books, get my news, activate my car – and a little ironically – book my yoga classes, though my phone. I worry far more about losing my phone than my keys or wallet. Same goes for my laptop for that matter.
Without devices, there’s no Patmos for me. They enable this lifestyle I love.
And yet, I feel a dull pain in my psyche caused by my phone. To use a Lord of The Rings analogy, it’s like Bilbo Baggins says of keeping the Ring of Power for so many years, “I feel thin, sort of stretched, like butter scraped over too much bread.”
That.
When I put devices away and just exist in the world, I feel better. But the Precious is always calling….
The worst part is it’s so easy to rationalize the need to keep the phone close and look at it often. What if I put it down and that’s the moment an emergency occurs? What if they can’t reach me? What if I can’t call for help?
Yet that butter feeling persists.
Today I took a partial device break. Once I got some things handled in the morning, I picked up some lunch, went to Petra and decided to enjoy the beach and if I wanted distraction, to read. Before I did, I thought of all the important things I needed to do later and stored them safely in my phone before putting it aside for a few hours. It worked. I enjoyed the beach, swimming and reading. Just a few hours helped.
Still, it’s not enough.
Being on Patmos – especially now in the peak of summer with glorious warm days, vibrant skies, sapphire water and the golden sun everywhere – it seems almost absurd to look down at a screen.
I decided that – as I did last year – I’m going to take one, maybe two days off screens while I’m here. Maybe this weekend. Last year, it was enlightening to learn how difficult it was to go 24 hours without a screen. My nervous system became discombobulated before it was able to calm.
Often, I think about how my parents left us with a babysitter and a list of phone numbers before going out for an evening. They just left and did whatever they were doing. My dad drove to work listening to the radio or a cassette tape. When my mom ran errands, she just ran errands. It seems so…. relaxing. Sure, you could spend an hour or hours on the phone – but then you could just walk away….
Sometimes, I really see the joy of analog.
Apparently, I’m neither Gen X or Millennial. I’m a Xennial – the cohort born born between 1977 and 1983 that had an analog childhood and digital teen to early adulthood. We rode the transition – having computers in the classroom, but being analog-native when we were born. That makes us the digital/analog equivalent of ambidextrous.
The problem is, if you take a screen break, you give up a lot of power and ability. My phone is the Swiss Army knife of my life.
Our rabbi puts his phone in a drawer every Shabbat. He checks it once or twice in case of emergency – but otherwise doesn’t use it. I see the benefit of an analog Shabbat. I always want to do it, except the Precious calls…. And my car is really a device on wheels and my phone is the key. Although my motor scooter here is not.
What to do? We’re jacked into The Matrix or have become some early version of the Borg.
I may not be able to solve the large, systemic, medical/psychological/social/philosophical issues of humans and our devices – but I know if I want to maximize my time alone on Patmos, I need to put the devices down and slowly back away.
At least for a little bit.
