Grid

As I poured my towels into the bleach-y water, I heard a thunking sound. At that time, it meant very little. Ten minutes later as I began frantically searching for my cell phone in that same bleach-y water, the thunking sound made a lot of sense.

Note to self: do NOT put your cell phone in your laundry basket. Put it ANYWHERE ELSE… just never in a basket headed towards soapy water.

Rest In Peace, iPhone.

So here I am, nearly four days after my cell phone died a slow and painful death (tried to turn it on – don’t do this, if you ever submerge your phone because apparently it shorts the phone out). To my amazement, I am not handling the situation as poorly as I imagined I would.

Here are some pretty cool things I’ve learned this week off the grid:

1. We give “kids these days” a lot of grief about how attached they are to their phones, but even those of us who remember (vaguely) life without cell phones have fallen victims to this technological world we find ourselves in.

“Oh, that’s fine, I’ll just send him a text message… Nevermind.”

“Oh, I don’t know where she lives. I’ll just put it into the GPS… are you joking?”

“Oh, crap. Those printed directions did NOT get me to her apartment… umm… I could call her… wait. Oh no.”

Catch my drift? I had no idea how much I relied on that over-priced piece of machinery.

2. Dealing with your emotions without the aid of technology is a deeply enriching experience.

I ran over and killed a cat on Monday night, and I couldn’t tweet about my trauma. Nor could I call my mom crying. Nor could I text anyone and tell them the horrendous story. And that’s okay.

Having to deal with any type of trauma, regardless of how “trivial” it may seem, really allows you to figure out how you’re feeling. The constant distractions cell phones offer allow us to all hide away when something bad happens.

Oh, I got yelled at tonight by a parent? Let me check Facebook for the next hour to feel normal.

Missing college friends? Catch up with them via Instagram. Heck, search through your own Instagram and take a walk down memory lane…for a half hour.

Don’t you dare consider the very real possibility that you’re SAD. Forget about it, and just get on your phone.

This type of distraction, and wasted time, means not processing how you’re feeling. I think that I haven’t even been considering how hard it is to move, change jobs, and meet new people. Not until this phone incident, anyway. Let’s just say I did a lot of soul searching these last few days, and it really needed to happen.

3. Concerts are A LOT better when you aren’t busy snapchatting and taking pictures to flaunt all over the place.

Don’t believe me? Go see Taylor Swift and resist the urge to pull your cell phone out. I know this is easier said than done. I literally just didn’t have a phone, but I’m so happy that I didn’t.

The 1989 concert was just as spectacular as I was hoping. Taylor Swift is a true entertainer, and witnessing her MOTHER come tell the girls right in front of us they would be meeting her backstage after the concert was an incredible experience.

I really admire a celebrity who sends the person she loves most in the world around to make a person’s day. Can you imagine the excitement you would feel if your favorite singer’s mom came to tell you that her daughter wanted to hang out with you? Unreal.

I’m even more of a Swiftie now, and I’m actually happy I don’t have any pictures to prove I was at the concert.

While these last few days have shown me some of the negative realities of cell-phone-addiction, I really will be happy to have my phone back. Like I mentioned earlier, we really do rely on technology in today’s world. I’m not even sure it’s a bad thing or a good thing – it’s just THE thing. It’s kinda like adaptation in general. Humans have evolved to believe the thing they hold in their hand has the capability to connect them to the world in its entirety.

I’m not sure I disagree. I can’t call my mom very easily right now. I can’t call for help if I need it. I can’t text anyone. If something bad happened, the lines of communication I am accustomed to would be nonexistent. It just makes life a little more challenging.

But… here’s the silver lining, people. IT. IS. POSSIBLE. It is actually okay to put your cell phone down and take a gander at the trees changing around you. It’s okay to not have that temptation of taking a picture of those same trees. Your mind will remember it different than the pictures, anyways. It is okay to have to reflect on what a terrible day you had without the distraction of Twitter. It is even okay to have to go OUT OF YOUR WAY to communicate with those you love.

I watched TSWIFT shake it off, and I didn’t need a phone to enjoy that moment.

I did anxiously stand at that bowl of rice where my phone lived for three days, hoping and praying my phone would wake up. But I was also cool with it not turning on for just one more day. One more day off the grid is just fine.

I’ll text y’all soon. Maybe.

(No picture to insert due to lack of phone)

 

Limbo

It is a relief to realize a world does exist outside of Inez, after working for a couple months now.

I was flying in an airplane yesterday evening, on my way to visit my grandparents in Florida, and I’m constantly in awe of the view from up above. Now, you have to understand I don’t actually enjoy flying. Every jolt of turbulence, no matter how minor, sends my mind spiraling to my inevitable death that is bound to occur.

Now I’m in Florida and I find myself watching movies with my grandparents. All the good parts of movies, I realize, normally involve the main character flying somewhere beautiful and exciting. For instance, right now, I’m watching “The Prince and Me,” and the main character is flying to Denmark to find her Prince. (If you haven’t seen it, go watch it. It’s a classic)!

A lot of the more memorable experiences of my life started and ended in a plane, so I am grateful that I have had to face my fear of flying many times.

With that being said, my flight to Florida resulted in many, many thoughts. Some were about the future, some were about the past, and some were about the present. My thoughts about the present revolved around the fact that I was totally unsure if it was possible for me to completely immerse myself in the here and now.

Even as I listen to my grandmother recount her “love story” – the story of how she and my grandfather started dating – I find myself caught between eras. There is the era of love she discusses, which is obviously many years ago. Though my grandparents are still very much married and in love, the love that she described is a type that one reminisces about. It is a fairy tale, of sorts, that took place in the past. Of course, we are all sitting in the living room together, in this same moment, talking about those days in the past, meaning we aren’t really in the present.

Then, as she talks about how she fell in love, I also look to the future. I see a future of love for myself, but I’m not sure how that love will start. My friends and I always wonder about these things: have we met our husbands? Will we get married in our twenties? Will we have 12 kids? Will we be financially stable? Oh, and HAVE I MET MY HUSBAND YET?

My roommate and I were talking about our plans “after Teach for America,” and I told him that sometimes I feel really uneasy. Planning for the “after” of something that just started seems both inevitable and unsettling. I feel very happy in my current role, surrounded by the people I find around me, and yet. I still plan for years from now. I want to be a Fulbright Scholar. I want to return to Tanzania to climb Mt. Kilimanjaro. I want to join the Peace Corps. I want to get married. I don’t even know what I want, because I want so, so much.

These discussions in the “here and now” take me backwards and forwards, and I’m entirely convinced that we as humans live our entire lives in this LIMBO. We become convinced that things in life won’t play out quite like they did BEFORE, and never quite as good as they may in the AFTER, in the future. Present is never quite good enough, which is why I have always struggled to embrace the idea of living in the “present.” Our entire lives are made up of experiences and memories that color the current experiences we find ourselves in…

---

SIDEBAR

I absolutely love how relevant the definitions of “limbo” actually are to the concept of “living in the present…”

1. “a region on the border of hell or heaven”
2. “a place or state of oblivion to which persons or things are regarded as being relegated when cast aside, forgotten, past, or out of date”
3. “an intermediate, transitional, or midway state or place”
4. “a place or state of imprisonment or confinement”

---

Now, back to planes. They are as significant here as the idea of time. I feel like when you embark on a journey, you are either waiting to GO TO or waiting to LEAVE FROM. You spend hours upon hours imagining what that moment will be like – the take off, the terrible meal that awaits you mid-flight, and the decent into a new place or, possibly, a very familiar one. Once you arrive to your destination, however, do you find that the glimmer is gone? The fantastical and picturesque scene your mind created leads the new scenery to seem dim and dulled.

I looked out my window last night as I flew to Florida, and I wonder what my future holds. I think about other times I was on a plane, and I can’t help but feel momentarily disappointed. I have this fear that nothing I do, no matter how spectacular, will compare to the images in my head. I have even gotten to the point where my memories hold a luster that I know was not there in the moment itself.

Memories and foresight are incredibly powerful experiences. Left unchecked, however, I fear it only leads to disappointment. It is a great paradox – we spend our present moments planning and trying to guess what the future holds. Or we nose-dive into the past. Either way, it doesn’t make it easier to sleep at night.

So some of you are probably wondering what I decided. What is the solution I decided to write about? Sorry to disappoint, friend, but I haven’t found anything resembling a solution, and I think that’s okay.

Some musings are best left alone: no neatly punctuated, planned-out, or pre-conceived conclusion necessary.

Oh, the irony.

-Halie

(View from LIMBO…err….the plane.)