rain songs redux vol. 2

to japan and back

i’m at my best when i’m in motion. my broken brain doesn’t have time to cycle endlessly aiming to solve an unsolvable problem that goes back to the beginning over and over until exhaustion gives in. instead if i can get caught up in the sights and sounds and smells and overall energy of a place i can just be — a state that eludes me more than i wish it would.

when i’m in a new city i find i’m calmer than i am at any other time — the overall crush of people of bewilderment of sensory overload of sheer newness is my version of a weighted blanket forcing me to stay put and stop writhing and instead blend into the fabric of place. using my phone (outside of a handful of apps — maps, included) tends to remove me at least one layer from that, and throws me right back into the chaos i was trying to avoid. i’ve found traveling overseas tends to take me out of that a bit; whether it’s the time change, the lack of international data (wifi only poses a fun kind of challenge), a different language, or otherwise, the phone becomes what it was intended as — a tool — and not a crutch, or an addiction, or a way to escape, or a deterrent.

i realized recently that i’ve had a cell phone for almost two-thirds of my life. for many of adult age now, they’ve had one or access to one their entire lives. it’s just part of it. it’s part of every single day. it’s how we communicate. it’s how we filter information. it’s how we gather information. it’s how we curate our tastes. it’s how we are entertained. it’s how we receive and process emotion. i am not saying this to imply it’s a bad thing; it’s just a thing.

but i do find the urge more and more to remove myself from it. it’s hard to — if you include aol instant messenger we’re talking something like 25 years of being perennially “online” — but i’ve been thinking more and more about how that need for instant feedback has rewired my brain. i need things now. i need questions answered. delays mean doubt. silence is darkness.

i have a friend who doesn’t respond to texts often. we talked about this in palm springs in july. he admitted it wasn’t exactly fair to us but that he often doesn’t have his phone even in the same room. when you get him in the jetstream, or in person, he’s one of the most present people i know. he has always made me feel like i’m heard and like i’m important, going on those same 25 years now.

i envy that ability to use the phone abstractly, to not have it be the center of everything i do. and i really enjoyed the week in japan where technology was everywhere but i could opt in and opt out as desired. to communicate in looks and gestures. to have questions without answers.

please enjoy vol. 2 of rain songs redux, inspired by that recent trip.