In Pursuit Of Lost Time

As a child, each year on my birthday, as I blew out the candles, I made the same wish: that life would be generous enough to give my mother more time. When she passed away from cancer, I learned the hardest, yet most important lesson of my life: time is the most precious thing we have, for it is inseparable from life itself. In that moment, I understood that we often take time for granted, failing to recognize its fleeting nature until it’s too late.

In today’s world, we fill our days by mindlessly scrolling through social media feeds, watching TikToks or checking notifications, not because we’re seeking something meaningful, but because we want to escape the harsh truth of time’s passage. We have a complicated relationship with time. On one hand, we fear it, and on the other, we desperately try to outrun it. But the problem lies in how we’ve convinced ourselves that time is an infinite resource. It’s not. We act as though it stretches on forever, but the reality is far different.

Consider this: the average adult spends about 4 hours and 37 minutes a day on their phone. This seemingly small chunk of time quickly adds up to nearly a full day each week, 6 full days every month, and a staggering 70 days every year. By the time an average person reaches the end of their life, they will have spent roughly 12 years staring at a screen. Even knowing these jarring statistics, we still find ourselves reaching for our phones without a second thought. It has become so ingrained in our daily existence that, in many ways, it dictates our lives. Our phones are indispensable tools in the modern world, capable of extraordinary feats: connecting us with people across continents, capturing moments through high-definition cameras, and providing a window to endless possibilities. Yet, as powerful as these devices are, they are equally capable of pulling us into a trap of constant distraction, transforming something that should be a blessing into a curse.

It’s easy to get lost in the endless stream of notifications and updates, as we trade authentic connections with people for fleeting likes and comments from strangers. As we become more absorbed by our phones, we risk disconnecting from the real world—the one filled with people, experiences, and memories that truly matter. This is where balance becomes key. We need to use technology in ways that enhance our lives rather than letting it take control of our time, and ultimately, our well-being. In this digital age, it’s not enough to just use technology; we must be intentional in how we engage with it, ensuring that it serves us, rather than the other way around.

In an attempt to reclaim my time, I decided to start a personal journey by keeping a journal. I document my victories, my missteps, and the lessons I’m learning along the way. This journey is far from easy, particularly as I balance the demands of college, where most of my assignments are online, with the responsibilities of three part-time jobs that require constant communication through emails and texts. My ultimate goal is to transform my phone from a source of stress and distraction into a helpful tool—though I’m constantly reminded how fragile that balance is.

The first chapter of my journal is titled “Awareness.” Awareness is the first and most critical step in breaking any addiction, including the one to our phones. We are constantly bombarded with articles and studies on the time we waste on our devices, yet the concept of time slipping away feels distant, almost abstract, until it hits home. My own moment of awareness came when I realized that when I thought of “time,” my first association wasn’t a clock, an alarm, or a calendar. It was the vivid, cherished memories of my life: the first time I saw my dog and his fluffy ears, the stunning sunsets at the beach, the flowers I used to frow with my grandmother in the backyard.

This realization struck me: the issue isn’t the phone itself—it’s how we’ve come to forget what time truly means. Time is no longer something we experience or savor; it’s become something abstract, distant, and endless in our minds. I used to share that perspective—believing time was infinite, that there would always be more of it. But as I’ve gotten older, I’ve faced the painful reality that time is finite, that it’s not something to be wasted.

One article that helped me grasp this was “Validity Test of the Theory of Planned Behavior in College Students’ Withdrawal from Smartphone Dependence.” It explored the Theory of Planned Behavior (TPB), a psychological framework that sheds light on how intention and action are interconnected. The theory reveals something powerful: when it comes to reducing phone use, having a strong intention is essential, but it’s not enough on its own. Intentions without understanding won’t lead to lasting change. If people don’t fully comprehend why it’s necessary to reduce their phone usage—whether it’s for their mental health, relationships, or academic success—no amount of willpower can truly alter their habits.

There is a need for both intention and insight. To break free from the grip of smartphone addiction, we must first understand how this behavior is harming us. We must connect the dots between our phone use and its impact on our mental and physical health, our relationships, and our sense of time. Only then can we start to make meaningful, lasting changes. It’s not just about limiting screen time—it’s about reclaiming time for the things that matter, rediscovering what it means to live fully, and ultimately, taking back control of our most precious resource: time.

References

“Validity Test of the Theory of Planned Behavior in College Students’ Withdrawal from Smartphone Dependence” Springer Link. 16 September 2020.

*TO BE CONTINUED…I focused on a single reference instead of two because I wanted to fully express the personal significance of the concepts discussed in the text. There’s an abundance of dry statistics and academic articles on this subject, but I aimed for something more vivid and relatable. If you’d like me to adjust this approach to make it more grounded, just let me know!