My phone is taking over my personality

As you probably know, I am a huge fan of The Lord of the Rings. There are many lenses through which you can view the characters of Middle-earth, and depending on your age and context, following each member of the Fellowship can teach you something new—also about yourself. In the context of my upcoming new life adventure, I’ve been thinking a lot about technology and lifestyle: how the use of technology has changed over the last 30 years.

I was six years old when my father bought our first PC, but my brother received an Amiga from his godfather when I was just three. I remember when playing games was fun and time-consuming for my brother and me, yet it was only one of many things I did. There was time for Ski or Die, but also to draw hundreds of robots and cubes, and run around the garden with our huge black dog, who occasionally played the horse.

Here I am, over 20 years plugged into the World Wide Web, and the question keeps coming back to me almost daily now: have I become Gollum? Gollum, the tragic figure corrupted by the power of the One Ring, reminds me, in some ways, of my relationship with my phone. Honestly? It’s so frustrating. Soon I will lose my hair and dine only on raw fish. The phone is my precious. Here’s some evidence:

• The phone is always with me.
• When I don’t know where it is, I need to find it—even if I know it’s somewhere in the flat.
• The first thing I touch in the morning is the phone, because of the alarm clock.
• The last thing I touch in the evening is the phone, because I read books on it.
• Somehow, I always have time to scroll, and my other interests and hobbies suffer.

Scrolling comes easily to me and my brain fires up, but I don’t feel well after an hour of Instagram. Even if I’m looking at what my friends are up to, I feel more disconnected than connected. I don’t like that so I decided to change something.

Over the last two weeks, I ran a small experiment and tried to divert my attention to do something else, something more practical. First, I made the tree of life. I was surprised it only took 20 minutes and brought me joy and calm. Then I painted a big bookshelf white (easy peasy lemon squeezy), and after that, I decided to use a bolder colour for a smaller bookshelf. That didn’t go smoothly at all. At first, the paint wouldn’t stick, and it looked hideous—like a piece of furniture from a slaughterhouse. There were a few possible next steps:

• Throw it away and never speak of it again (a shame, though),
• Repaint it white (safe but boring),
• Try red again but differently—for example, using a roller instead of a brush.

The third option won, and luckily, the roller worked wonders. I now have a lovely shelf with additional workspace in my home office, which has made my dream come true.

OK, but this isn’t really about being handy—or is it? Even though not everything went as planned, I felt much more relaxed spending time doing something with my hands than scrolling through news or Instagram. I could never achieve the same level of satisfaction and agency online. You know what I mean?

Even my photography project has evolved heavily into manual activities (by the way, I cannot wait to share it with you in Łódź, June 13–14—more details soon).

I don’t want my phone to define my personality.

That means I don’t want a device to be my precious—the main way I spend my free time. Because soon, there will be a tiny human watching me closely, and I want them to learn about the world with curiosity, from the actual world in all its diversity—not just from a device their mother is glued to 24/7.

Over the next couple of weeks, I’ll deactivate my Instagram account and take a break. And my phone will have to find a better place for itself—better than my pocketses.

I’ll keep reporting back. If you have good practices for phone-life balance, let me know.

Thanks for reading!

Wiktoria

PS. In this week's music corner, what we all know and smile at: Maria Callas sings Habanera from Carmen.