I was riding the bus when a boy no longer amused with his video game chucked it aside and began ferociously digging through a tote. Wailing his displeasure when all he produced was a half eaten pack of crackers and some hand wipes, his digital needs went unsatisfied.
At his age, my brothers and I were swaddled in fluff and kicked out the back door with nothing but our imaginations, five km of wilderness and whatever the cat dropped on the doorstep.
Entertainment was entirely dependent on creative cunning. We spent our days galloping through the underbrush, building bug-city mud mansions and catching salamanders.
We once amused ourselves for three days straight just digging a big hole.
At at what point along the way did we stop being comfortable inside our own heads? In the digital age, people have become too impatient to actually sit back, relax, and enjoy the solitude of an uncharted moment.
This is when true genius strikes, after all; a lesson I learned when locked in a bedroom led to 4’x4′ of tubing, a slingshot, and a hamster.
Today, immediacy rules every sphere of human interaction. We want to know it, we want to know it now, and we want to move on. The world is at our fingertips every second of every day and as a result, some of the greatest opportunities to commune with a moment pass by unappreciated.
It’s convenient to wake up and check my three emails, Facebook, SMS and Snap Chat before getting out of bed, but sometimes I need to leave the smartphone at home and reconnect with raw reality; the kind you can see, smell, taste, touch and love.