Smartphone adventures

My son’s first word was “hello.” Actually, it sounded more like “ello” or even “ullo.” He was playing with a toy cell phone, holding it up to his ear.

I was thinking about how children today are growing up with cell phones and the expectation of always being connected to the Internet, to immediate communication, and to short bursts of news.

We get criticized for being on our phones too much, so today I thought I’d share a few smartphone adventures to lighten the day.

Soggy phone. One day, we are at a pool party with our son. I left just for a few minutes, and when I got back, my husband was drenched, his wallet was wet, and his iPhone was ruined. My four-year old son, who didn’t know how to swim yet, had walked unexpectedly into the deeper end of the lap pool without his kick board. My husband had to jump in and save him.

First phone. The first thing that my son ever bought with his own money was a toy cell phone when he was five years old. It was called the “Amazing Phone” and came with sound effects and a holographic image of application icons. When I told him that it was $3, his face lit up, and he said that he would buy it. When it was our turn at the register, Brian pulled out 3 dollar bills from his wallet, and handed it to the cashier. I reminded him to take the coins and receipt, and we left the store. He informed me, “If I save my coins, I can make more dollars.”

First app. I resisted getting a smartphone for many years, worried that I would spend too much time on it, before I broke down and purchased a smartphone. When my 12-year old son learned that I had no games on my phone, except any apps that came pre-installed, he was aghast. “No games! What will do you do when you’re bored?” he demanded.

He snatched the phone of out my hand, opened the Play Store, and immediately started quizzing me about the kinds of games I like to play. Do you play solitaire? Shooting games? Puzzle games? He asked. He was only satisfied after I downloaded a game and played it a few times.

How much time do you spend on your smartphone? Do you use an app that monitors or limits the time you spend on it? If you spent less time on your smartphone, what could you do with that time?

Ha’aha’a is a listening power

“Aloha is about connection, not correction,” shared Pono Shim.

These words echo in my mind, because when someone talks about a problem, my first instinct is to try to fix it. To make suggestions. To help.

Sometimes people just need us to listen.

Last year, Pono Shim opened a new cohort in his Higher Skills Academy, and I jumped at the opportunity. Those close sessions with Pono were a gift that I carry with me, to reflect on Aloha, to pay attention, to be centered in self, but not self-centered.

Each week we reflected on an Aloha practice, and I want to share some reflections with you.

Ha’aha’a is humility, modesty, to be empty, listening. In some ways, it is the most difficult to practice. I tell myself that I am listening, but am I listening with Aloha, without judgment or ego, with my heart?

One day, I spoke with a client who was angry. It was hard not to feel a little offended in return. I had to pause, let go of my need to argue or explain, and just apologize. They needed to be heard completely, and I needed to listen with humility, without letting anger touch me. After I apologized, the person seemed calmer and more willing to listen to an explanation.

One day, I had a difficult conversation with a co-worker about their role in the organization. We talked about what the organization needed and what they could contribute. I felt that we were talking about different things. I tried to empty myself of my opinions and thoughts, and listen to what they were saying. And suddenly it clicked: what they contributed, their presence, mattered more than how much they contributed. The shift in expectations allowed us to find a solution.

One day, I listened as a friend shared about some of the challenges in their life. They didn’t need me to fix something or make a suggestion. They knew what they had to do and were ready. They just needed me to listen, to be present, to care.

“All connection starts with emptiness. Only when you are empty are you ready to receive.”

How do you practice Ha’aha’a? Is there an insight you have gained by listening without judgment or expectations?

Purpose is a yellow bird

A few weeks ago, I was walking in the park and noticed a lone bright yellow bird among a flock of young brown sparrows. The yellow bird would move closer to them, and they would fly away, chirping.

It made me remember another day, years ago, when I was looking out the window at the falling leaves of a pine tree, and a yellow bird hit the balcony glass door.

I stared at the bird in surprise. It was beautiful, with bright lemon yellow feathers. It perched on the railing, its back to me, seemingly unharmed by the glass.

I went back to work with more heart. Whenever I looked up the yellow bird was still there, content to stand in the sun while the wind ruffled its feathers.  Once it hopped a couple of feet along the railing, startled by the sound of a passing car; then it settled once more, a yellow blur outside my window.

As I wrote in my notebook, I thought that the yellow bird is like creativity, trying to inspire us, but balked by an invisible glass window.

And yet, if I had opened the glass window, the yellow bird would have flown into the room, flapping wildly, trapped. 

Or maybe the yellow bird is like purpose, calling us to the work that needs to be done, but balked by our own wishes and wants. It waits for us to open the door and step outside.

I never saw the yellow bird outside my window again.

I forgot about the yellow bird, until that afternoon in the park, when another yellow bird tried to befriend other birds, and was rejected.

Sometimes purpose taps on our window, waiting politely for our attention. Sometimes purpose chases us until we take notice of it.

What “yellow bird” encounter have you had? Who has inspired you to with a tap on the window? What jobs or endeavors have chased you until you recognize them?

Poetry: Awake One Night

Awake One Night
By RLC

I lay awake one night
And thought of all the paths to take
And all the choices I could make.
It is unkind to think of me:
I rarely think my actions through
(But I can’t claim that view untrue).

So much has changed. How can I know
When change had come or how it led
To being awake that night in bed,
Reviewing all my thoughts and reasons
For all that I have done, and said.

Life comes to me and I react,
And maybe what is left to do
Is simply to accept, accept
And follow through this path that grew,
From all the choices that accrued.

I didn’t know where this path led
When taking that first step at night;
But now I choose this path ahead
Come dark or light. I choose this path
Not knowing all the change to come,

Or all the change that I will cause
And maybe what is left to do
Is simply to accept, accept,|
This path that now has chosen me,
And guides me where I need to be.
And so I slept.