Recently I took stock of just how much I use my phone, and it’s kind of ridiculous. The first thing I do when I wake up is grab my phone to turn off the alarm, and instinctively open Instagram while I’m at it. I get up to brush my teeth and comb my hair, and step into the shower (remembering to play my Throwback playlist on Spotify first). I get dressed and grab my things and head down to grab breakfast, and scroll through Subtle Curry Traits on Facebook while I wait in line to order, and again while I wait for my breakfast sandwich and hot chocolate to be served. I get to class and while I wait for lecture to begin, I decide to play Candy Crush to pass those 10 minutes. I leave class an hour later and walk to the cafeteria, where I spot a friend and promptly whip out my phone to send them a Snapchat photo…of themselves …to them…
You’re starting to get my point. It’s so easy to get caught in this vicious cycle in which every moment not spent face to face with a human being is spent staring at a screen. Especially with this glum Seattle weather, when Vitamin D is in low supply and people crawl back to their dorm room whenever possible, it’s easy for days, even weeks, to go by in a monotonous blur.
So what’s the solution? How do you unplug and break the cycle?
Go outside, grab some fresh air, spend time with friends.
I am adventurous by nature, this has been true since I could walk. I hated being carried, every outing resulted in me chasing down ants or running towards some flower or mushroom that caught my eye. I’ve had a chance to revisit that sense of spirit in recent years, and I’ve learned a lot as a result.
I’ve learned to build relationships. There are so many people I’ve known since middle school, who I’ve been around for years. I never made it a priority to connect with ordinary people around me, with classmates I was spending half of every school day alongside. It was worth making time to catch up with them and spend hours with them in the mountains just talking. My most memorable experience is when an accomplice and I decided to go on a sunrise hike, and when we got to the viewpoint we just sat down and talked about our lives and interests for two hours. It was pleasant, and easy, and simple, and I enjoyed that.
I’ve learned to be brave. My biggest fear is the open ocean. Being stranded in open waters is the most terrifying thing I could possibly imagine. And yet, since I was a kid, I’ve been fascinated by the insane amount of life that resides in our oceans. Two winters ago, I went to Hawaii with my family and I had the opportunity to go see Manta Rays at night and go snorkeling with them. My dad and I signed up spontaneously, and took a boat with 6 others about 30 miles off the coast of the Big Island. I had to take a leap of faith, I had to jump in, and though it was scary, it was so worth it. To this day, watching those huge manta rays swim so gracefully up to us and disappear again into the depths is one of the most magical things I’ve ever seen.
I’ve realized just how big the world is. I’ve walked through tiny crevices in 300 feet tall canyons carved out by eons of water and wind, I’ve stood in a courtyard built by Shah Jahan in 1638, I’ve hiked miles and miles to find huge lakes of snowmelt surrounded by jagged cliffs. In all of this, I’ve found that there is such a strong natural and historical presence today that exceeds any beauty or wonderment that modern technology or social media has ever brought me.