My son has never known a world without mobile phones, without screens lighting up, without his Mum and Dad using them on and off throughout the day.
For me, notifications are still something I view as an interruption, an annoyance. Notifications are something that I tolerate to allow me to have a tiny computer on hand for whatever task or information I need, but it’s something I remember living without, my childhood was blissfully screen and technology free (ahhh hindsight is a wonderful thing).
Looking at the world through Jack’s eyes, and I guess it’s just normal for people to look at these tiny screens many times throughout the day.
He has started gently, indirectly, calling us out on our habits, with an insistence on us having to ‘watch this’ whether it’s him playing with his toys or watching a specific bit of a tv show or movie that’s he’s already made us watch 4 times in a row already. And he checks, he glances at us to make sure we are watching.
The other day he even said ‘Daddy, can you stop that and watch this?’. It was delivered gently and kindly (he is a gentle and kind boy) but it still stung. I wasn’t being present. I wasn’t THERE with him.
So I’ve been trying to be better, removing apps from my phone, reducing the volume of notifications, and even looking at some of the ‘dumb phone’ hacks I’ve seen.
But it’s hard. If you are anything like me, someone who has been ‘on’ the internet virtually since it started, switching that world ‘off’ isn’t that easy. The simple act of reaching for my phone when I’m ‘bored’ is still one I’m struggling to break.
I wonder what it will be like for Jack as he grows up. Will constant distraction be so normal he won’t even notice them? Or will he carve out his own boundaries, will he crave quiet the way I sometimes do?
It’s hard to know what presence will look like for his generation, we are only at the start of smart glasses but the sci-fi future of everyone walking around with a constant stream of information available in a heads up display isn’t all that far off, certainly within his life time.
So perhaps that’s where I need to focus. Finding a way to help him find quiet as his world becomes more and more screen/information/attention driven. Help him understand that paying attention, being in the moment, is far more important for himself and for the people in his life.
For me, the challenge is simple, but not easy: when he’s speaking, put the phone down. Look up. Listen.
Because one day, the notifications will stop. And I don’t want to look back and realise I missed the moments that mattered most while I was staring at a screen.
