Connection, Distraction & Technology

It has been an interesting few weeks as I adjust to my new life outside of the corporate world. I will admit to a few sessions of online surfing and doing a wee bit of binge watching Netflix, particularly after I tore my calf muscle a few weeks ago. Nothing says “stop and breathe” like a torn calf muscle. As a person who loves to move and be on the go, it has been exceptionally frustrating, particularly since it impacted my holiday plans.

In this phase of binge watching/internet surfing/reading, one thing is so abundantly clear about us human beings. We all crave connection. We crave to be seen, heard, and understood. We crave compassion and affection. Everything we do as humans is geared toward that need. It is underlying in our decisions - what to do to obtain interpersonal connection and what to do to maintain interpersonal connection.

In the past few decades, technology has really taken off and plays such a dominant role in our lives. This past week, I attended a performance by Buzz Brass, a French Canadian brass quintet, at the Keyano recital theatre. I had forgotten my cell phone on the way out the door. For me, this is not that worrisome. I spent the first forty years of my life not carrying one. I was pretty sure I would be fine without it, and it ended up being an interesting experience. That may seem to be a bit of an odd statement, except, even I, who forgets her phone at home 30% of the time, managed to notice the subtle changes that have crept into even my own behaviour after having gotten in the habit of taking my cell phone with me everywhere I go.

I did not buy a ticket before I left home. I decided that I would actually go and get a ticket directly from the box office for once, instead of ordering it online, as has become the habit, in this time of technology. It meant that I needed to leave a little earlier as I had to sort out the ticket. I was also moving much, much slower with the torn calf muscle, and so that required an extra time. In my haste to leave the house, the phone got left behind.

When I pulled into the parking lot at Keyano College, I checked my pockets and my purse for my phone. I did not have it. Before I got out of the car, I looked around to see if there was a way for me to pay parking without it. Nothing was obvious, so I decided I had better ask at the box office as I would prefer to not get a parking ticket.

I hobbled my way to the box office past groups of people who were gathered for dance rehearsals. I saw other dancers warming up through open doors to the dance studios. I was so envious of their ease of movement that I had taken for granted until just a few weeks ago.

The box office was such a quiet spot. Now that everything can be done online, there are no long lines to the box office before performances any more. It is definitely a sign of the times. There was no line ahead of people ahead of me waiting to purchase their own tickets. I had a great conversation with the lady selling the tickets. I paid with my bank card. I asked about parking since I didn’t have my phone. She confirmed that there was no way to pay without the app, unless I parked a lot farther away. That was not going to happen given the state of my calf, so parking fine, it would have to be.

I was very early to the performance. It meant that I had some time to wait. For the second time that evening, I noticed the absence of my phone. As I sat down to wait for the house to open, the volunteer ushers turned the corner to head toward me sitting just outside the theatre.

I happened to know both of the ushers that were working. So, I proceeded to chat with both of them until the house opened and I could take my seat. I wondered if I had had my phone, how different the conversations would have been. They had my full attention versus the distracted attention that is more common these days.

I was pretty early taking my seat in the theatre. People were starting to arrive so the ushers were busy. I sat in my seat and attempted to get comfortable, which was not the easiest as my leg was sore. Without the distraction of my phone, I paid more attention to the people arriving for the show. There were people that I knew, so I had more conversations. My friend, who I hadn’t seen or talked to in several weeks, arrived. Without the distraction of the phone, I was able to provide my undivided attention to the people around me and to the conversations at hand. I felt truly connected.

Buzz Brass are amazing performers. I truly enjoyed the show. It was very accessible for those not as familiar with classical music or even brass instruments in general. I truly enjoyed the performance.

At the intermission, my thoughts for my phone had me at a loss again. My leg was sore, so I was not going to stretch my legs and move around to socialise like I normally would have. My other option was to see if I had a notebook in my purse, so I could jot down some ideas. I had even forgotten that at home! I was going to have to relax with the company of my own thoughts. I was going to have to nurture my connection with myself. I was amazed at how disconcerting that felt. Have I become used to being that distracted? 

I started to ponder that dilemma. Not the one about missing my phone, but the fact that I was THAT disturbed by having to connect with myself and to pay attention to me. I didn’t get very far on that thought. As I realised that feeling, my friend came to join me for a conversation. We used to talk daily in our corporate lives and now suddenly, find ourselves bereft of the daily connections and routines. It was truly wonderful to have the opportunity to connect and talk about the changes we were experiencing.

The entire evening for me was truly magical. I have always felt that the importance of art lies in the connection and the feeling of community and belonging. In the case of performance art, it is creating the experience for people to gather. Buzz Brass brought all of us into the theatre together. They provided joy in their performance. By inadvertently leaving my phone at home, I was fully present to experience the performance. I was fully present to engage with the people around me.

Technology claims that it brings people together. I do agree that it provides a way to communicate almost constantly. I agree that it allows us to communicate with a far larger audience. It does come at a cost. The constant communication has resulted in distraction and avoidance of uncomfortable feelings. It would easily classify as the “opiate of the masses”.

Not all human interactions are going to be comfortable. With true connection comes a level of discomfort. That is what opens the door to distraction and avoidance.

I spent the first forty years of my life without the electronic distractions and avoidance. I managed just fine. After my experience at Keyano the other evening, I find that I am now re-evaluating the role and the need for constantly having my cell phone with me. Connection is important to me. The quality of that connection is even more so. As I figure out what the next phase of my life will look like, it becomes abundantly clear that I will need to evaluate the role that technology plays in my life. In this next phase, I am looking to strive for more quality connections and to be present for the people around me.

For now, as I move forward, I think I may “forget” my phone more frequently. It is time for me to re-learn what it is to be present and not distracted.