This morning, I sat on the back porch watching the sun peek over the hills, sipping my coffee. I glanced down at my wrist to see if there were any new messages. I saw my analog watch in place of the Apple Watch that lived on my wrist for the last fifteen or so years. It was then that I realized that over the last couple of weeks, the only tweeting that was part of my life was that of the birds and not social media. I felt a sense of freedom that I had been missing for so many years. I thought about the chains that I had allowed to wrap around me through my work.
As a teenager, I often heard the phrase, “Hindsight is 20/20.” While I do not hear this spouted as often, I believe it still rings true. It is so easy to look back and see how or why you made the decisions that led you down the different paths you took. Some of the choices stand out as fantastic, others make you shake your head and question of what you were thinking, but most make you go, “OK – I guess that was a good choice.”
During these first few weeks of retirement, one thing I am looking back at with new eyes is my use of technology in relation to my work. I want to say that I am doing this with the eye of a sage, that I now have the enlightenment of being the wise elder ready to pass on his wisdom. Nah. It is just me, meandering back through my life. There is a liberation in being able to let go. It also causes me to question why I allowed things to get to the level that they were at when I clocked into work every day. As a matter of fact, I now realize that technology kept me from ever clocking out of work.
I thought that I was doing a good thing by always being available. But those wonderful glasses called hindsight tell me otherwise. I could be out with my daughter and get an email from a teacher or parent. I put that email above her. I could watch a film with my wife, and a text would come in. The words, “Can you pause it a sec?” would be out before I even picked up the phone. In reality, I was saying something about where they stood without saying anything.
Not only do I not wear the watch, but I also will leave my iPhone on the charger and walk away. If I hear my phone beep or ring, I might glance at it, I might not. I may answer a call or a text, or I may let it wait. I can actually feel a little giddy in letting something go to voicemail or go unread for more than five minutes (I am a work in progress).
When I started working so many years ago (I now have the lyrics, A long time ago in Bethlehem in my head), you went to work, you worked hard and long, and then you went home. It would take something important for someone to call you at home. Even if they did, there was not much you could do from home.
One of my first cellphones was called a Juke, a very thin swivel phone. Smartphones were out. Students had them, and they laughed at my little phone. I swore that I would not be chained to a phone. How soon things changed.
Now, the office travels in your pocket or on your wrist. The barrier that used to exist about contacting people outside of work hours is gone as well. People will send an email (sometimes because they need to do it before they forget, with the expectation that you will not respond until the next workday) at all hours. A text is thought of as a quick question rather than an intrusion. However, many of us respond.
What is worse is that we then set the expectations of our colleagues or others who may be reaching out. There have been many times that I received an email late in the evening and did not see it, only to be questioned the next morning as to why I did not respond – there was no major fire or anything; it was just that people were used to my responding within minutes.
I know that many will remind me that all of this was a choice that I made. I could have shut down my computer at night; I could have turned on Do Not Disturb on my phone and watch; I could have ignored the incoming contacts. I could have, but I didn’t. I sent a message out to others that it was okay because I would respond night and day.
I get it. Tech has made our lives so much better. I cannot get rid of all of it – heck, I will be buying a new T.V. soon, and that thing will have more tech than the first rockets. Tech can be good, tech is good. But now I am seeing where it could be a hindrance.
I thought I was showing my superiors that I was dedicated. Instead, I was showing them that I could not let go. A true leader needs to be able to let go and let others step up. I removed the chance for team members to shine. Had I not felt the need always to be the one to answer, perhaps another person could have proven their skills – perhaps their answer would have been better. Did I remove the chance for others to shine because I could not put the tech down?
If I could go back in time and talk to myself when I bought my first smartphone, I would talk about everything in moderation. I would warn myself about the rabbit hole of the vibration. I would make myself see the 20/20 vision I have today.
However, as I sit here and imagine that conversation, I see a younger me listening to the words and taking in the message. Nodding my head in understanding. Then that younger person would have walked into the store and purchased that smartphone, knowing they would be better. They would not fall into the traps. They would do better.
I then sip the coffee, listen to the birds, watch the sun, and remember that that young person is now me.