'I lost my phone, and I couldn't be happier.'

Last weekend I lost my iPhone for the first time ever.

Waking up the morning after my friend’s wedding, I did the usual headcount: wallet? Check. Shoes? Check. Boyfriend? Check. Phone? Nowhere to be seen. I called the taxi company, the venue, the bridesmaid, even the taxi driver directly – alas, my trusty iPhone was gone without a trace.

The hours and days following saw a reaction that shocked me to the core –  in the place of the heart-wrenching panic I would normally assume at a time like this, I was strangely calm, relaxed, and even…happy?

It was becoming an extension of my natural self – a limb, a child, a lifeline. I would scramble for my phone at the hint of vibration, and have almost been hit by a car more than once whilst engrossed a rapid-fire text conversation. Zero battery meant a complete halt in all social proceedings, whilst a pent-up Instagram scroll could consume a full hour from my day. My iPhone was beginning to operate me, and I didn’t like it.

Like any friendship, everything started out rosy – in the palm of our hands we had infinite messaging abilities, a proper digital camera, the Internet, Facebook, bus timetables, video calls overseas, recipes, Instagram – heck, we even had a tiny invisible woman named Siri in there who knew everything. Including some pretty high-qual jokes.

Indeed, it was quite a while before the friendship begun to sour and the toxicity of this increasingly pervasive device started to show.

People suddenly stopped talking to each other, and the social etiquette rule book was rewritten with new commandments such as, ‘It is perfectly acceptable to eat dinner with someone whilst making zero eye contact and engaging only with your phone.’ Every moment became a potential photo opportunity, every joke became a Tweet, and every debate was won by a Googled gallery of supporting evidence.

And then I lost my iPhone.

It’s only now I realise how much you could achieve in a day, without the distraction of your phone; about the endless grind of notifications nipping at your heels and how many hours were spent staring at phones in bed.

And now I couldn’t be happier. Yes, I lost my phone, and I really couldn’t care less.

So let me describe to you my new, oh-so-controversial life as an untethered, phoneless, disconnected traitor of the Apple nation.

1. It is quiet, and calm. The only time I feel like I need to be ‘on’ is when I’m talking to someone face-to-face. ‘Off’ time gives me space to restore my energy (and workshop some new lines).

2. I am alert, aware of everything going on around me, with full brain capacity to develop a thought from beginning to end.

3. The world has become smaller again, comprising only of what is around me, or in my thoughts – not shadowing hundreds of people internationally via Instagram. Many of whom, I should mention, I don’t even know.

4. I am focused and well rested, logical and balanced, and without the niggling anxiety I always seemed to juggle.

5. I am learning to listen again – that is, listening fully when people are talking to me, without the omnipresent prop of a beeping iPhone. (This includes eavesdropping – which, as a writer, is crucial to my job.)

Don’t get me wrong, it’s not without its struggles.

I am really struggling with the ‘what to do whilst waiting in line’ predicament, and have legimately forgotten how to load music onto my iPod. Luckily, I’m not alone.

In his article, ‘I gave up my phone for weeks and experienced the 5 stages of grief‘, New Yorker Brian Heater talks about the daily struggles of living with an iPhone-shaped-hole in his life, as well as lamenting our mass de-evolution.

“I keep coming back to the same question.

Mankind evolved for millions of years without the aid of Yelp and Google Maps. How is it that living without them for a day is suddenly a task of Herculean proportions? Were we so different then?

After two weeks with no phone, I can say, conclusively yes. We were. We were super genius magicians capable of amazing and powerful deeds.” – Digital Trends.

So I’m on a mission to rediscover my unplugged power.

First of all, I’m going to take full advantage of my no phone, no FOMO holiday. I predict it will be around a week before people start getting shirty that they can’t reach me (yes, Mum – that means you). I get that. Giving up a phone altogether is dangling a little too close to the Tinfoil Hat society for me.

When I do decide to reconnect, I’m getting a dumb phone. I’m forfeiting my access to smart phone luxuries like the Internet, social media, and the Crust Pizza app; and reteaching myself life skills. I don’t even know how to order a pizza over the phone anymore, but goddammit I’m gonna try.

The lack of smart phone will bring inconvenience as much as it will clarity: work emails will now only be managed at work, banking will be managed at the bank, and socialising will have to happen with, like, people. But I guess this leaves me free time to start filling my life with meaningful experiences that don’t require a hashtag. #reallife

I’ve seen the light people, and it’s not the LED back screen of my iPhone. It’s a big, bright world of fending for myself again, and as far as I can tell, there’s no WIFI needed.

Now, just to conquer this phantom-phone syndrome that attacks every time I hear a message tone.

Sound familiar?