I’ve owned an iPhone for two years. When it was initially released, I couldn’t fathom the need to check my email or browse the internet at any given moment in the day — was the information truly that important? It intrigued me regardless, so I purchased one and of course adopted such usage religiously.

Present day, the phone is hacktivated and unlocked so I can use it with an Orange SIM card. The immediate result of this is an absent data plan and much of the iPhone’s core functionality (barring the occasional wifi). At first, this seemed like a tremendous loss — no maps or directions in a new city, lack of on the spot dinner recommendations. Gradually however, it struck me as more a blessing in disguise. Forced to write down directions and addresses in a notebook before I leave home, I’m free to take missteps and make new discoveries. As I spend the large majority of my time as a Web Designer circling the internet, there is liberation in knowing that an email or tweet has no way of reaching me when I’m out. In the middle of a conversation, forced with an unanswered question, the dialog continues in an unexpected direction instead of the quick fix of a Wikipedia entry.

I’ve always had a mixed reaction to new technology, a luddite reluctance mixed with an excitement for new ideas. As technology becomes not only intertwined in our everyday lives, but ubiquitous, I think we need to find the line between automating our experiences and keeping our eyes open to the literal moment.