When life felt more real

I woke me up to the smell of coffee this morning. This was odd, because typically it does not reach down the hallway and through my closed bedroom door. It reminded me of a time years ago when I kept a small four-cup Mr. Coffee in my bedroom. It was 2012 and I was living in a townhouse apartment just about 40 minutes north of where I now live. All of a sudden, I was back in that old room waking up to the sound and smell of the brewing. It was June. The sun was shining in brightly through the window, illuminating the light green walls. I rubbed my squinting eyes as I tried to acclimate to the light. I felt fully connected to the moment. Life felt more real.

 As is usual, I did a lot of reflection when I came back to my current reality.  

 “Why does everything feel so dead now? Why was everything so much simpler then? I hated my job then and was filled with anxiety, why am I romanticizing this? I was in the beginning stages of a long-term relationship that wasn’t right for me or the other person, life wasn’t perfect. I hadn’t even heard of Instagram yet. Come to think of it, I didn’t even have a smart phone yet. Yeah, that’s it! It’s because I didn’t have a smart phone”

 After running through this series of thoughts and questions, I pulled out my internal pitchfork to come up with a plan to recreate 2012.

 “I just need to reactivate my Nokia. I need to write down questions I have instead of googling them immediately. I need to turn off WIFI and data on my phone to add another step to using it for the internet.  I could start a YouTube channel where I only check in once per week to document life without regular internet use.”

 These thoughts went on and on.

 For the record, I do not use most social networking, but have a nasty YouTube and information addiction. YouTube and Google are an unending portal of food for this addiction. I can spend hours passively taking in information. It takes me away from unpleasant feelings. It takes me away from life.

 As I was writing above about 2012, it became clear to me that the reason the memory felt so real was because the involvement of my senses led to groundedness. It was the presence in the moment that led to life feeling real, not the absence of a piece of technology.  Blaming my smart phone was a cop out. Truth be told, I was an internet junkie even back then, it was just on my MacBook rather than a smart phone. I had the same tendencies even in 2001, when my computer was anchored and my monitor was fat and heavy. It is my behavior, not the device.

 So this morning, rather than scrolling mindlessly through YouTube, I decided to write. I’m glad that I did. And today, I think I will take some of my advice (minus the pitchfork). I’ll listen to the sounds outside the window rather than content coming out of my speakers. I’ll take a walk outside rather than earbudded cardio on the treadmill. I’ll read a book from my long list of “Books to Read” rather than queuing up my “Watch Later” playlist. I will experience life.

A strange synchronicity, last night I dreamed about waking up in a room in total darkness. I opened either a door or a shade and my eyes burned from the bright light coming from the outside. I can’t help but feel this morning’s experience was the bright light I needed to break free from the “disconnected from self,” prison I’ve been living in all winter. I’m looking forward to finding a way back into my body, fully attuned to the present moment. It’s the only time life feels real. Like rain to a desert.