GAL FRIDAY: Exercising self-con
THE PAVLOVIAN PING of my cellphone and the constant cries of urgency on the line caused me to take what is called a digital detox. For two days, I was like John the Baptist – exiled to an isle (not Patmos), eating honey and, well, pancakes instead of locusts.
So, maybe the comparison isn’t all that apt.
Let’s just say that I was so tethered to my telephone that I decided upon a self-imposition of no Candy Crush (but I could still have Hersheys). I was to focus on my lotus, do Yoga and give up gadgets for two days.
Folks, can you do it? Would you be happy – even intoxicated – with the level of peace that comes from the technology release? Hoadie, have you ever enjoyed such a release? Well, I have to say that I didn’t enjoy it at all. In fact, I cheated.
Within a day and a half, I was so wired up because I was unwired, I began desperately searching for a Facebook fix – and I’m not even on Facebook. This ‘fast’ of sorts brought out urges in me that I didn’t even know existed.
As you would know, the phone is not simply a phone these days. There’s the camera for selfies, Instagram, Pinterest and email. My beloved email. Where spam cannot be cooked, but where your brains can be fried.
I need help, people. My inbox is now burdened with 17 272 emails. I was tasked by my imaginary friend – who happens to be a nun – to delete at least 100. At this point in time, I’m up to 30. I’ve been banished to a room where I must purge, or do penance.
What is a girl to do? Should I go with the flow and immerse myself in technology? Or is a break – at least once in a while – good for the soul?
Breaking from that topic, but still sticking closely to it, I happened to see a tweet from @yvonnegavan. It stated, “It’s not possible @VeomaAli #nationnewspaperbarbados to condone corporal punishment and rally against child abuse. One leads to the other.”
Well, since I’m in rehab and am not supposed to respond electronically, here’s my response. Yvonne, I’m sorry we’re digitally divided on this one, but listen: does eating lead to gluttony?
With tongue in cheek and sandwich in hand, I submit that the onus is on the individual – in this case, the adult – to exercise self-control. The lack of self-control is the causal factor.
Interestingly, self-control is one of the lessons I’m currently learning when it comes to selfies and the sort. I need to get to the countryside for Hoadie to teach me a thing or two. I hear he hand-writes his column and delivers them weekly on horseback. He’s my knight in not-so-shining armour.
(As an aside, Julia Harewood made me a Hoad-doll which is in my armoire)
In fact, instead of sleeping with my cell tonight, I may cuddle up with my Hoadie. Therapy for this techie.
Veoma Ali is an author, broadcaster, advertising exec and most important, a karaoke lover.