Ramblings on Lifestyle, Operation: Simplify

I finally did it, naysayers! In attempts to simplify my life, I no longer utilize the ever-famed iPhone.

The switch was simple. In less than twenty minutes, I was out of the store, cheap little flip-phone in-hand, just in time to catch the next bus home.

Today, I found myself in the grocery store perusing a shelf of lotion and wondering which to get. Usually, I would pull out my phone and look up information about the brands and their moral backgrounds and their benefits. I gave a small laugh at my new found freedom. Yes, freedom. Why the hell does one need to research lotion in-store?

So many things are re-opening as non-necessities. Like e-mail: I do not need to answer an e-mail as soon as it gets to me. I do not need to check Facebook as soon as a little red circle appears on the homescreen app. These things can wait.



And yet, I am also learning that not every act of simplification feels resolved. As I manually punched in my phone contacts, I realized that I didn't need to include all 117 of them. I put in names and numbers and thought about when I last spoke to each and what we had said and what we might say in future conversations. I thought that, for some of these characters and digits, this would be the last I'd see of them, just memories of college and the variety of people I became friends with there--now ten or so states away.

I narrowed it down to 60 contacts--people that I certainly at least hope to keep in touch with, though I admit that most are either family or like family. Is this what it means to live simply? Less people? I always said that I would rather have a few quality friendships than a ton of acquaintances, yet don't we have fond memories with people we aren't entirely close to?

Then there are the close ones. Sorted by first names, I paused as I got to 'D' in my phonebook. Even though I could dial the number without having it officially named in this little box of technology, it felt like a big step--to scroll through contacts and not see his name; to know that even if I called, he would not answer. Yet just as with the acquaintances, I have to remember that an erased name on a silly list does not mean the memories are not there or did not happen.

I don't want to rely on little microchips to store my emotions, expressions, reactions. A name on a screen is not a face in front of you, is not even a photograph on your desk.



Even so, I saw opportunity in many of the digits that I typed. As I clicked each area code, I realized how far-spread my community is: Pennsylvania, Tennessee, Kansas, Texas, Arizona, California, Montana, and now, of course, Washington, to name a few. I am young and blessed and have many places to see and visit and go.



Every day on the bus, I look around me. People are staring down at their phones, perusing some virtual world. What can be gained from it? Of course, I read on the bus--does that put me at fault too? Still, I like to think that books are a better alternative. You cannot see the world if you aren't even looking out the window.



I finished reading Cloud Atlas today and am a little torn between centuries, past and future.