Yesterday was the first day of the Bored and Brilliant challenge from WNYC's New Tech City, and the goal was to keep your phone put away (either in pocket or in a bag) during transit, so phones out only at destinations. Having tracked my phone time for about 3 weeks, I know that my starting point was that I was spending an average of 155 minutes per day on my phone. I don't think Moment counts time when it's playing music or a podcast but I am not looking at the screen. I use my phone as a Kindle a lot, so I'm not sure how much time I can cut down without losing my reading time, but we'll see. It also doesn't seem to take into account time I'm making phone calls if the screen is off.
So I kept my phone in my pocket. I forgot once early in the day because it is such a reflex to pull my phone out of my pocket when I have a "blank" moment. It was much easier if I kept it in my bag.
Other than that one time, I really enjoyed it. Not looking at it during down time made it easier to not look at it at other times too. I noticed how many other people were on their phones, everywhere. Anyone who watches a dystopian movie and sees everyone with an implant and shudders, rest assured we are already there.
The best part was how much less stressed I was throughout the day, and I thought about how often I fret needlessly. There is the illusion of wasted time with a constant litany of accompanying thoughts: "I'm just standing here at the bus stop; I should be doing something. How many minutes until the bus gets here? Do I have any new emails? What does my to do list look like? How many minutes until the bus gets here? No, I don't want to answer that email until I'm back at my computer. Has anyone posted on Facebook? I should text this person. How long until the bus gets here?" By not even looking at my phone, I cut that process off right at the beginning, and it was such a relief, as though I was giving myself permission not to worry so very much all the time.
I also realized that that time wasn't that productive. I wasn't accomplishing anything except worrying. I started asking myself how much of the information I was craving was actually needed at that time. I know about what time the bus comes, and what benefit can it possibly have to repeatedly check the real time bus information every two seconds? It doesn't make the bus come faster; it doesn't get me to my destination any quicker. It made me realize how inappropriately I'm using the technology. It makes sense to check it once to see if taking a given bus makes sense, and if it seems that I will be late, let someone know. And then wait. Just wait. If the passing of time is of such great concern, then I should wear a watch.
I also cleared some of the junk out of my head. I'm so used to being able to document or act on every little thought, and most of them are just crap; we simply have the illusion that they are meaningful because they are actionable. Yesterday I had the experience of curating my thoughts - I mulled things over for a while, and then acted on them. I look forward to continuing that today. And my phone time dropped to 90 minutes.
So I kept my phone in my pocket. I forgot once early in the day because it is such a reflex to pull my phone out of my pocket when I have a "blank" moment. It was much easier if I kept it in my bag.
Other than that one time, I really enjoyed it. Not looking at it during down time made it easier to not look at it at other times too. I noticed how many other people were on their phones, everywhere. Anyone who watches a dystopian movie and sees everyone with an implant and shudders, rest assured we are already there.
The best part was how much less stressed I was throughout the day, and I thought about how often I fret needlessly. There is the illusion of wasted time with a constant litany of accompanying thoughts: "I'm just standing here at the bus stop; I should be doing something. How many minutes until the bus gets here? Do I have any new emails? What does my to do list look like? How many minutes until the bus gets here? No, I don't want to answer that email until I'm back at my computer. Has anyone posted on Facebook? I should text this person. How long until the bus gets here?" By not even looking at my phone, I cut that process off right at the beginning, and it was such a relief, as though I was giving myself permission not to worry so very much all the time.
I also realized that that time wasn't that productive. I wasn't accomplishing anything except worrying. I started asking myself how much of the information I was craving was actually needed at that time. I know about what time the bus comes, and what benefit can it possibly have to repeatedly check the real time bus information every two seconds? It doesn't make the bus come faster; it doesn't get me to my destination any quicker. It made me realize how inappropriately I'm using the technology. It makes sense to check it once to see if taking a given bus makes sense, and if it seems that I will be late, let someone know. And then wait. Just wait. If the passing of time is of such great concern, then I should wear a watch.
I also cleared some of the junk out of my head. I'm so used to being able to document or act on every little thought, and most of them are just crap; we simply have the illusion that they are meaningful because they are actionable. Yesterday I had the experience of curating my thoughts - I mulled things over for a while, and then acted on them. I look forward to continuing that today. And my phone time dropped to 90 minutes.
Comments
I've had similar experiences, and I've read books that touch on this subject. I'd like to share some of that.
The first chapter of _The Power of Now_ by Eckhart Tolle talks about the thinking mind as a tool. He says our stream-of-consciousness is a tool that is so useful we've forgotten how to put it down. We think constantly, though it's not necessary. This generates some of our worry and pain. It also keeps us from achieving a state-of-mind that would allow us to process the worry and pain we already have.
We seem to have multiplied this problem with our always-on technology. William Gibson's book _Distrust that Particular Flavor_ argues that there isn't a useful delineation between our minds and our tools. When we operate a car, in many ways the car is a part of us. When we use pen and paper to augment our memory, that writing is a form of memory not much different from our sense-memory. Gibson says there's no use asking if someday we'll be cyborgs. Those of us who use smartphones are functionally cyborgs already. Finally Kevin Kelly's _What Technology Wants_ says that these devices aren't telephones, they're adult pacifiers. (I don't think he was the first person to suggest this.)
So when I check my phone for the position of a bus (for example), I get that little bit of dopamine that comes from knowing exactly where the bus is. But at the expense of a little bit of extra worry. And because I rarely "leave the phone in the bag", I don't notice I'm making that trade-off. I've found it's the trade-offs I don't know I'm making that hurt me the most.
Congrats on tapering off your phone usage. That's great. I'm working on that too. The next step for me is to taper off the amount of time I spend thinking at all. To switch it off and just notice what's happening right this minute. What experience is coming into my senses right now? Obviously not while I'm at work or while I'm writing a novel-sized comment on your blog. But the same technique you're using with your phone, I'm trying to apply to my thoughts. I think that's where Bored and Brilliant is going anyway. I'll go listen to their stuff and start following along. Thanks again.