you look stupid

a mini sermon for myself

cam and i are working on our phone time. specifically phone time as a secondary activity to the real activity we’re doing, like watching a show or a movie. we “watch” (aka listen?) to a show while we play games on our phones. it’s silly.

we all joke about it — looking at our little screen while the big screen blares right behind it.

but at its core, it’s undeniably INSANE.

screens, especially phone screens, are so tiny and lame. like what even is this thing. and we stare at it with the world in our peripheral, happening quite literally all around it.

we have to actively block out what’s happening in the fuzzy, unfocused world around the $1000 weight in our hand. and we do it. for hours.

every. single. day.

we look down, at a little thing in our hands

• reading emails from companies trying to sell us stuff we 100% don’t need

• tapping through stories (?? what a manipulative name for a product??) of OTHER peoples lives

• skimming news that’s designed to frighten us, make us uncomfortable, spur us into action, like opening emails and tapping buttons to buy more shit we don’t need but think could be the missing piece of the little weirdness in our heart

it’s objectively ridiculous. it hurts my soul think about what coffee shops were like before screens were everywhere.

i’m in a coffee shop now. there are 13 people in here and all 13 are — you guessed it — looking at screens. a few on phones, most on laptops. and one guy to my left on both. eyeing his medium screen while he talks into his small screen, staring through the woman sat across from him as she stares into her medium screen.

“was that your sister or your mom?” she asks.

“sister.”

don’t get me wrong — it’s amazing what the screens make possible. this guy is sitting in LA talking to his sister who could be anywhere in the world. that’s so cool. and obviously time has changed and everything is digital and we have to work and it’s a blessing to connect and technology is cool sometimes etc etc etc

but in a pre-screen coffee shop, this scene would be different. we’d all be HERE differently.

writing. talking. sitting and looking. tapping your toe to the music. noticing something new about your kids eyebrow while they eat a croissant that implodes all over the screen-less table.

some folks would be less “here” — taking in stories from other places – reading the newspaper (so chic) or a book they read about in the paper (even more chic). but they’d be touching the paper. turning the pages. focusing on one thing — the thing in front of them — and nothing else.

i say this all as i type into my medium screen, with my small screen face up on the table next to me in case it lights up. with my tiny screen on my wrist that will BUZZ MY WRIST in the event someone tries to reach me. god forbid i miss a message! a call! how dare i not be available to everyone and everything at ONCE!!!!!!!!

absolutely ridiculous. embarrassing, really. we look stupid. hunched over. unable to look around and smile at another person. we’re hiding behind the desire to “connect to the world” by not connecting to the REAL world around us.

ew lol

i’ll leave me with this. there’s research that shows that the presence of a smartphone, even when not in use, can decrease smiling by 30% in social situations.

just it being there. on the table. like mine is. i actually just picked it up — it rang!! — to tell my neighbor i’d be home in 20 to talk to our shared contractor.

i wonder if i missed any smiles during that call. or during this little sermon to myself.

to me: do better. screens can be cool but they’re often really stupid. while you’re sat there, looking at this thing designed to make you keep looking at it, life is quite literally passing you by. that’s silly and you should work on it. imagine how much life you’re missing.

okay, i better run — my real life neighbor is waiting on me.

your friend,

taryn