Day 3: Connections and Disconnections

Woke up to seventeen notifications on my phone. Emails, news alerts, social media updates - all demanding immediate attention. For the first time in a while, I felt the weight of being constantly connected. Instead of diving in immediately, I made coffee first and sat with the silence for ten minutes. Revolutionary? Hardly. But it felt like reclaiming something small but important.

A friend texted asking if I wanted to grab drinks after work. We’ve been saying “we should hang out soon” for months, so I said yes immediately. Sometimes the best evenings are the unplanned ones. We ended up talking for three hours about everything and nothing - childhood memories, career anxieties, that weird dream she had about flying elephants.

It’s interesting how different conversations feel when you’re fully present versus when you’re mentally composing your next text or checking the time. Tonight reminded me that real connection requires showing up completely, not just physically.

On the way home, I noticed a street musician playing guitar near the subway entrance. His guitar case was open with a few dollars inside, but he wasn’t performing for the money - his eyes were closed, completely absorbed in the music. There was something beautiful about watching someone do what they love, regardless of who’s watching or paying attention.

I’ve been thinking about digital vs. analog experiences lately. Scrolling through photos of other people’s lives versus actually living my own. Reading about travel destinations versus planning an actual trip. The internet has made everything accessible, but maybe accessibility isn’t the same as experience.

Three days of writing, and I’m already noticing patterns in my thoughts. Is this self-awareness or self-obsession? The line might be thinner than I thought.

Tomorrow I want to try leaving my phone at home during lunch and see what happens.