WARNING BULB

I realised yesterday that I get grumpy and anxious when my phone is out of battery and I’m not in a position to charge it up.

Uh oh. That’s one of those wake-up alarms isn’t it? It means my emotional state is actually linked to an iPhone, and I didn’t notice. My eyes stung with tears and the switchboard of my heart was flashing with a dull red warning bulb. This can’t be good.

It’s the connection, I think. I am a sucker for being in-touch, for knowing I can chat to friends, or learn new things about the world. I love a community and I don’t like the idea of being unreachable, especially when it’s out of my control.

It’s also the easiness of looking things up. Moments before, we’d been googling Smokeless Fire Pits. Not essential, but it was access to the info we needed there and then, for some reason, over mac ‘n’ cheese. At the Harvester.

That is a good thing. Connection and information are positives in a dark, lonely world.

My chemistry though, was telling me that too much of a good thing can trigger something else. And that something else (I’m not going to slow down to say it) is addiction.

Now then. I’ve read Stolen Focus, and I’ve read John Mark Comer’s The Ruthless Elimination of Hurry. This warning bulb isn’t a surprise - even to the big tech companies. And it shouldn’t be to us. But still, as Sammy pulled out her phone to check her messages, I was noticeably distracted by the window, twiddling my wedding ring and watching the trees.

What can I do? I’ve tried screen-free Saturdays. While we’ve been dealing with estate agents and house stuff, the sabbath has become harder - I was waiting until we moved to get back to the routine. But here I am with a chemical dependency on dopamine, drip-fed to me by social media and the super-computer in my pocket.

We don’t even have a garden yet, let alone a smokeless fire pit. But is it naive to imagine Friday nights with toasted marshmallows, under the stars? Is it hopelessly romantic to think of those evenings with friends, in winter coats and scarves, chatting about nothing around the fire?

Or will I miss it all because I’m lit up in blue light, eyes on a screen?