It's been a week, one lost iPhone, one sunburn, one Haystack Rock, and one busy summer since my last confession.
Sorry to have been away. Let's get going. To the confessional--
I confess I was running from waves at dusk after taking photos of starfish with my iPhone when I lost it. I put it in my pocket then went running through the sand like a nut. When I returned to my hotel room I realized it wasn't in my purse.
So back onto the beach. I met a group of people who were beachcombing with a flashlight. Two guys came up with the idea of calling my cellphone and we would all stand watch to see it light up in the sand. Ring ring....nothing. Ring ring...nothing.
At that point, I decided the waves must have come in and made my phone a brick. A wet brick in damp sand next to Haystack Rock in the Pacific Ocean.
But here's the thing... I wasn't sad.
In fact, I actually felt free as if all my worries had been (literally) washed away.
I couldn't check email. No one could reach me. Life became easier.
It's that same feeling I have when we lose power. Oh, I guess I have nothing to do, better read. Or go to bed early.
I want to feel like this every day.
For the first 3 days after losing my iPhone I was researching phones without internet and was almost ready to buy this phone (the iNo phone-- for elderly & children):
I know, they are pretty awesome. They look like calculators.
What sold me was they only have phone, text ability...plus an FM radio AND a flashlight.
I was really wondering if I want to carry my email with me. I am beginning to hate email. It drags me down.
With the iNo phone, I would be everyone's best friend at night with my built-in flashlight. And when we need to dance, I come with FM radio.
I confess I will probably end up getting another iPhone, but I realize I am not racing down the Apple store to pick one up. Instead, I am enjoying this time being phoneless.
I have a lot to learn on how to live better, how to be in the moment. That is what I feel my iPhone takes from me. It gives me convenience, but takes away my ability to just be.