Saturday, I did something small that felt monumental—I walked into a Verizon store and walked out with one phone.
For 19 years, I carried two.
That decision didn’t come from efficiency. It came from exposure. There was a time when a dealer prone to lighting me up at exactly the wrong moments—made me realize how quickly business could bleed into everything else. One Sunday, walking out of church with Amy, a line-crossing email prompted me to split life in two: one phone for work, one for everything else.
And I stayed that way—reachable, responsive, always on.
Then came Africa.
Two weeks without the habit of checking. No constant refresh. No pull to respond. Just pockets of quiet that turned into something I didn’t expect—clarity. Not detachment from responsibility, but distance from the noise we too often elevate as importance.
Because the truth is, we all stretch to stay connected. We want to be there for everything a friend, a client, a parent, or a child needs. But I was reminded that even brief moments of disconnection can be one of the most powerful things we have in a world that never stops asking for more.
It made me ask a simple question: are all the things demanding my attention actually worthy of it?
There’s also a passage I’ve been thinking about that leads to an even harder question: am I really that important, or have I just allowed everything to feel urgent?
So, Saturday, I made a change.
This isn’t a step back. I’m still here. Still engaged. If anything, it sharpens the edge—choosing presence when it matters most.
One phone now. Same availability. Better perspective.
And if Verizon sells used devices…there’s one on a shelf in the back that’s been ridden hard.