It’s my watch, my alarm, my calendar, my voice only contact with the world, my file for “writing” ideas, my blank page for “writing,” my access to my blog/my published books/ Instagram/Facebook, and finally it is what separates me in real “Facetime” from my one, true, intimate relationship.
Am I making eye contact or phone
contact with her? Am I seeing, listening and hearing with a whole heart.
And about that heart: Will I die
using my phone? Will people notice I have died because I don’t seem to be
answering? How have I lived without a cellphone for so many years?
It certainly is a boredom killer. I
am sometimes disappointed when I get to the front of a grocery line because I
am smack in the middle of a great book. The line becomes a transcendent
experience instead of a boring one.
Dear Lord keep me off that…
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