I am experiencing a very contemporary practice in silence, solitude and simplicity. This one not by choice. I am without my cell phone.
As I was leaving Florence to catch the train to the Leonardo da Vinci Airport in Rome, I locked my phone in the apartment. The good news is that a friend has picked it up at the rental agency, and will mail it to me when she returns to the states later this week. The bad news is that I am without my phone/camera/watch. The good news is that I’m not upset about it, and, in fact, am doing quite fine without it.
In its absence, I notice there are several parallels to having a cell phone and having a dog. You have to keep paying attention to them. The phone rings, a text message beeps, you want to check your email, take a picture, or see what time it is. You don’t have to do all those things, but you do.
A dog, on the other hand, gives you no choice. It wants/needs to go out, be fed, be petted. Things you have to do.
The part I miss the most about my phone is the camera, which of course has nothing to do with a dog.
As I was leaving Florence to catch the train to the Leonardo da Vinci Airport in Rome, I locked my phone in the apartment. The good news is that a friend has picked it up at the rental agency, and will mail it to me when she returns to the states later this week. The bad news is that I am without my phone/camera/watch. The good news is that I’m not upset about it, and, in fact, am doing quite fine without it.
In its absence, I notice there are several parallels to having a cell phone and having a dog. You have to keep paying attention to them. The phone rings, a text message beeps, you want to check your email, take a picture, or see what time it is. You don’t have to do all those things, but you do.
A dog, on the other hand, gives you no choice. It wants/needs to go out, be fed, be petted. Things you have to do.
The part I miss the most about my phone is the camera, which of course has nothing to do with a dog.