Kathy and I went hiking in Delaware this past Sunday. The weather was gorgeous. Blue skies, a cool breeze, low humidity. The only sounds were those of our chatter, the rustling of trees, singing of birds, and the occasional honk of a bull frog. I felt free. No traffic, no notifications and updates, no noise, no stress… My cell phone was tucked into my camelback only because it’s also my camera. I mentioned to Kathy I wished I had left it in the car. Even though it was on silent it seemed to radiate a low frequency annoyance. I still felt tethered.
We climbed out on some large rocks to soak our feet in the ice cold water of White Clay Creek.
It was marvelous to be out in the woods. Although civilization was only a few miles away, it felt so distant. Nothing could hurt us, as long as we stayed present. And I am grateful we did because little did we know that one peek at the news or Facebook would have hurtled us right back to reality. It wasn’t until hours later in my car that I would learn about the attack in Orlando, Florida and my heart would break.
Had I known sooner, I would have carried the weight of sadness in addition to my camelback and shadow would cloud the clear skies above us. And so for that reason, I am glad not to have known. Ignorance is bliss and I see little reason to know of the horrible things that happen in this world as soon as they happen.
How many times has a push notification on your phone ruined a good time? Whether a news report, an upsetting e-mail, a Facebook feed full of updates that another musician has died… do you ever wish you had just left it alone and remained in blissful ignorance? At least until the end of your date, or the movie or the party? This is all part of being present and in the moment. And if you’re truly present you won’t go looking for irrelevant news on your phone and run the risk of learning something upsetting which will utterly change the moment.
Had I checked the news after I snapped the above photo, I would have drastically changed the moment from two happy friends splashing their feet and smiling in the sun to two solemn adults sitting quietly and sad, their thoughts on violence and loss. I’m grateful I didn’t do that.
The world can wait. Had I checked in while sitting on that rock it would have been only out of habit or impulse, not need. I would have forfeited my rare view of nature for the familiar view of my cellphone. When do we ever really NEED to know what’s going on elsewhere? I can only think of a few examples…
If you’re happy, content or at peace, prolong the moment as long as possible. Don’t go looking for trouble. If you’re spending the day with family or at the beach among friends or even if reading alone in the local park, be present and be there, not online. You can catch up later. There’s often nothing to gain that couldn’t wait, and a lot to lose… like the moment.
