Let’s be candid. I didn’t actually go a day without technology. That would have been virtually impossible (pun intended).
From our best friend Gcal, to our not-so-best friend Canvas, digital technology has become an ubiquitous presence in all of our lives. We rely on it to get through our day-to-day assignments, activities and events. However, wouldn’t it be fun to go one day — a mere 24 hours — without internet access? Just imagine. You could be that elusive, mysterious person that everyone would be talking about. “Where are they?” people would murmur. “I heard they’re deep in the stacks of Sterling trying to finish ‘The Grapes of Wrath,’” others would speculate. But, no one would ever truly know unless they could find you.
Throughout my life, I’ve had my fair share of NOPHO-turned-FOMO experiences (NOPHO: a term denoting “no phone” that I coined specifically for this piece to rhyme with FOMO). Almost every year since sixth grade, I’ve gone away to summer camp. As I packed, my room looked like my closet and Walgreens had just thrown up in there. It was filled with all of the necessities — socks, sunscreen, baseball cap, gym shoes, etc. The one item not on the packing list? my phone.
Giving up my phone for two to three weeks would be an inconceivable feat. As a sixth grader, not going on my phone for a prolonged period of time — no Snapchat, no texting friends — seemed like social suicide. I was worried that there were so many things I was missing out on, and pervasive thoughts occupied my mind: “What are my friends up to? How many sleepovers am I missing out on?” It turns out, as a sixth grader, I only received trivial texts, so I fared fine. Shocker!
However, this past summer, I went to a three-week-long summer camp, and I was without my phone. The. Entire. Time. Some people wonder how or why I did it. Sometimes I wonder about that myself. In all honesty, though, it was a blessing in disguise.
Not having my phone (or any internet access, for that matter) paradoxically gave me the chance to disconnect yet reconnect, unplug yet recharge, disengage yet reengage. I wasn’t bombarded with emails every day. I wasn’t thinking about all of the things I had to prepare for college. I wasn’t comparing myself to every influencer I follow. Instead, I took the plunge and completely immersed myself in the camp experience. I laughed until my gut hurt. I felt the summer sun kiss my skin. I heard the beautiful bells that woke us up every morning (although Harkness puts them to shame). Rather than living vicariously through other people on my phone, I was the one truly living. Now I understand why Thoreau secluded himself in a cabin at Walden Pond. It’s liberating!
When I got my phone back at the end of the trip, I didn’t want to power it back on. I could feel the anxiety creeping up on me. I knew that as soon as I unlocked it, three weeks’ worth of notifications would besiege me. While I did want to call my friends and family, I didn’t want to get sucked back in and fall victim to the place that seems to have become our new world: the internet. There was something so exhilarating about seeing my phone, lying on the table with a black screen, and having the power — the courage — to turn away from it. It was at this moment that I asked myself, “Do I really need my phone?” Because you can’t make good conversation and get to know someone through text. You can’t create lifelong memories by scrolling through Instagram.
So, after you finish reading this article, I encourage you to power off all of your devices. As it turns out, it’s virtually possible after all.