My phone became the place I go to hear myself.
by Abigail Browka
Tonight I sat down and turned to my phone for answers.
Not to Google, but to discover what I wanted to do. The next day I had free. time. I could do anything. And I typed into social sharing, “Why do I go to my phone to discover what I want to do?!?!”
“Why do I go to my phone to discover what I want to do?!?!”
I picked up my phone not to search for a restaurant or check the weather but to discover what was inside me (uh oh).
Now my phone is actually a wealth of information. I keep a notes list of people I care about. I check it regularly. Am I loving on this person well? I have a note about Things I Like To Do, because as you can see I forget. I have reminders to “Stop Thinking” and “Take a Walk.”
Here’s the thing I’m sitting with: my phone is a wealth of information about me. It holds information about my values, my relationships, my intentions, my rhythms. It knows what I forget. In a sense, it does remind me who I am.
That’s the part that unsettles me.
Somewhere along the way, my phone became the place I go to hear myself. To access something that should be available without a screen — my own desire, my own knowing.
I’m not saying the phone is the villain here. The lists are good. The reminders are good. I designed those systems on purpose, and they’ve made my life more intentional in real ways. But that is now my instinct to look through my apps, to peer at my digital lists as the source of what is within me.
But there’s a difference between a tool that supports your inner life and a tool that replaces it.
I think a lot of people feel this. Not the doom-scrolling kind of phone dependence — the quieter kind. The kind where you reach for your phone not because you’re bored, but because you’ve forgotten how to sit with a question long enough to hear your own answer.
Maybe the answer isn’t deleting the lists. Maybe it’s building a practice that comes before the lists. Something that helps you hear within.
Tonight, after I caught what I was doing, I put the phone down. I knew I needed to hear through breath and listening. Not to answer the question of what I wanted to do, but to remember that the question was mine to sit with. Not my phone’s.
So when this happens, take time to listen within.
Do a body scan — start at the top of your head and move slowly down, noticing where you’re holding tension, where you feel open, where you feel nothing at all. Then take a deep breath prayer.
Deep Breath Prayer
In: Listen
Out: Here
Abigail Browka is the Creator of Everyday Sancuary, a five-minute daily spiritual practice available via iOS / Android mobile app.