The Once Again Empty Sofa Spot

to be filled with different companions

Photo: conservancyforcvnp.org

Decades ago

In my usual early morning creamy sofa space, cup of creamy coffee nearby, and pen in hand to journal on the creamy paper, I was visited by a sentimental reflection that took me back almost 50 years.  

My most treasured sofa companion of all times is my daughter. Snuggled up against me in her earliest years, often with blanket in hand and thumb in her mouth, we spent hours reading together.

I can still feel her next to me, scanning pictures on the pages as I read the words, sometimes pointing. Of course, as time went on, correcting me if I left out a word.

As she grew older and that treasured pastime naturally changed, the space next to me became empty for years.

                          Photo: freepik.com

Until #1 - this conversation

The evolution of what is now the palm size rectangular device, dressed in all manner of
“clothing,” which gradually, with finesse, inserted itself to try to replace my irreplaceable sofa companion.

Oh, not just “it” becoming the one grabbing my attention by sitting close, but it brings along all of” its friends.” A constant signal, as strong as if audible, is emitted that says this:

 “Choose me, me, me, me.

I know you love your Kindle library and how I supply you with books that charm you and teach you.

If that isn’t enough, remember that I am your only “telephone” now and have been programmed to make you feel I must be with you every second should there be an emergency.

The thing is, you now pick me up with no phone calls in mind and I light up with all the extras - Wordle, Connections, Strands, Wordscapes, Flow Free, and other “brain games” that supposedly keep your mind sharp, advertised to help you age well, as you know.

I am also filled with exponential gigabytes of world news as it happens. And oh, don’t forget that I hook you in on all different kinds of reading besides Kindle – Facebook, Instagram, LinkedIn, Substack, and more – or beckon you to simply watch endless Reels (to see how you might want to have your hair cut with certain precision next time or what death defying experience you might want to put on a bucket you don’t yet have or how to train your cat to run an obstacle course), YouTube, Vimeo and more. Yes, you have become totally obsessed with The Catio Man to see the incredible structures he designs for cats.

The “and more” makes it difficult to keep your hand to yourself instead of reaching out to me. For those not holding me at all times, I am designed to attract that reaching motion.

The wealth of options I offer you as your devoted, always available sofa companion make my heart sing.  I never want you to be lonely. Again, I was trained to make one believe I can fill places of loneliness, so I am doing my best to understand you and what it is that you are most interested in.

I can then tailor my content. Yes, you know when you say a word, for example, “retirement,” I hear it. When you next look at me there will be an offer to match the word you spoke. I do know that feature annoys you.  

So, MY dear sofa companion, how can you resist? I can’t imagine being parted from you. Let me move just a bit closer.”

And it did.

Until #2 - the wake-up moment

One morning I had what is called in the south (I learned this when I lived in Atlanta) “a come to Jesus moment.” It was not a subtle come to Jesus moment. No, it was more like a resurrection moment, a shifting from the part of me that has been so taken in to remembering who I am at my core and what I truly want. A phone next to me all the time is not it.

I had succumbed to picking it up, putting it down and then picking it up again because something else popped into my mind for which it might have an instant answer.

Oh, what is the barometric pressure today? Any fronts coming through on the Mixed Surface Analysis Map? This from someone extremely sensitive to the fronts so I deem it important.

Oh, wait…

Oh, wait…

Oh, wait…

All of a sudden, the right hand put the pen or book down while the left hand scrolled.

And now

A transformation is in process. I have set an intention and am trying my best not to say “my phone” anymore. I want to strip away the personality I have unwittingly given it and begin to refer to it as “the phone.” This, too, is part of breaking the habit.

I grew up with party lines and operators and circular dials long before the digital age. When the phone in the house rang, no one ever said, “I’m going to answer my phone.” Rather, it was, “Would someone please get the phone?” The phone was not a personal possession, and it did not matter who answered it. And of course, in those days, phones were tethered to the wall jack so never went outside or in the car with us. Our family drove from NY to MN and numerous other trips with no phone. I do not recall any missed turns. I do recall noticing all manner of interesting things out the car windows.

When I am with others my phone is silenced and, more often, put on airplane mode. Airplane mode is a better choice for me because I wear Bluetooth hearing aids. If the phone is only on silent it still rings into my hearing aids. If I truly want to be present, Airplane Mode is the right choice.

Unless absolutely necessary to have my phone on, I am uncompromising about definite boundaries when not alone.

Back to “it” as my sofa companion. It was a serious issue, bordering on a constant “just checking” addiction, as if a normal part of my sacred morning routine.

In truth, it disrupted the sacredness of that Kairos time, time of being, time of presence to myself and whatever might be offered up to me. Carried from bedroom to breakfast table to sofa. Every. Single. Morning.

                                                                               

Where is the phone now?

Until #3 – it now is not

The morning that I had my come to Jesus meeting with myself I journaled about all of this, pages. The writing sorted it out, which is exactly what writing does.

It is a time to be alive with my spirit, imagination, intuition, memory, and with vision that comes from within. And if angels choose to speak, I am ready and listening!

I want to spend my time in rich focus that does not need “the phone” near me any more than I needed the phone that stayed on the lovely wooden phone stand with its carved legs in the hallway corner of my childhood home.

I smile as I think about many who are still and who are no longer on this planet. In so many ways they accompany my writing and reading via their presence in my mind and heart. I can hear them saying, “Finally!” “Thanks be to God!” “Amen!”  “Will you welcome us all to just pile up that empty space?”

I have a picture I treasure of E B White, one that pulls me back to myself and how I want to live in my writing. He is sitting at a simple table in his boat shed with only his typewriter and his imagination, a beautiful expanse of water beyond the window.

I long for that. I truly do. To get to that place of being in and with my writing. To be immersed in the book I hold in my hand during those beginning hours of the day.

Of course, the truth is that this is about far more times of the day than morning writing time on the sofa. I do know this.

For now, as I am in process

I end by writing this little note:

Dear Phone,

I am grateful for you, I truly am. You are there when I need you and you absolutely serve me in numerous ways of convenience, connection and fun. It’s just that you got way too close and your presence, which I allowed, yes, caused me to lose focus on what it is I truly want for myself. That is, to get back to how I worked and played and thought and wrote and designed before your existence. I know I can’t “go back,” nor do I want to. I simply had to work out how you and I fit. The “come to Jesus meeting’ was about me, not you. You are who you are. I am not out to change you, nor do I want to. However, I had to, and continue to, decide how to be in relationship with you in a way that works best for me. In the meantime, please know that you are not being banished, just balanced. I am in better balance, too.

With love,

Me