Why is my Phone in my hand, again?!

It’s the morning, and I’ve just been woken up by one of my three alarms. I accept the demands of the sound and look to make a positive stride first thing in the morning. Staying in bed I scour my phone for that new meditation app. And I do it half heartedly. And now I’m scrolling.

It’s time to go into town, and really meet the day. I’ve made breakfast and done all my chores. I packed my bag full of things that should delight me; books and pens. But this train is full of eyes and I cannot see any friendly faces thanks to masks. Perhaps I’d do better to relax by scrolling.

Why do I always find myself with my phone in my hand? Is it the easy dopamine release upon which my brain feasts? 

And who am I without it? Am I the guy who can expand his discipline and attention span? Could I become the one that does what must be done? Could I travel foreign lands without my phone in my hand?

Or will it be, simply, that the next ping is the thing that softens the sting of everything?