I remember simpler times.
I remember a time when I woke up every morning and didn’t immediately know what time it was. Sometimes, I looked at the clock on my nightstand. Sometimes, I didn’t. I just…woke up. That was my task for the first few minutes of the day. Wake up. Realize that it’s another day. Another day that would be good or bad, long or short, slow or fast, but another day that would be, above all, full of life. Not devices and tools and to-dos. Life.
There was no sleep app tracking how I’d slept that night, and I wasn’t freaking out about what it meant for my long-term health if the stats weren’t good. There was no wristband on my arm, showing me my heart rate and alarming me to the fact that I had taken zero steps thus far. There was no sleek glass screen, behind the gates of which lay an entire universe to get lost in. A universe of unanswered messages, scary events in places I’d never seen, and more distractions than both heaven and hell could offer.
I remember mornings without music. I brushed my teeth, took a shower, made my hair, and got dressed. I was so bored with my routine that, magically, I started thinking about the day ahead. What subjects did we have in school today? What topics would we discuss? What do I know about those already? And what questions do I have? Which of my friends would I see at recess? What stories did I want to…
