Call Me on My (Heart) Cell

CALL ME ON MY (HEART) CELL

~ JoAnne Dodgson

www.pathwaysforhealing.net

I don’t have a cell phone.  I don’t even know how to text.  I get the feeling I’m almost the only one left with a landline telephone, not to mention dial-up internet.  Despite the apparent conveniences, a cell phone is something I’ve chosen not to have — there’s the health risks; there’s the damaging effects of cell towers rising up in our neighborhoods and wild lands; there’s the harms done to people and the planet in the desperate race to mine crystals for computer technologies, to keep up with skyrocketing consumer demands for something more and newer and faster.

Yet I have to admit there’s one thing I love about cell phones:  I can drive down the road alone in my car talking to myself.  Nobody thinks I’m crazy.  They just assume I’m plugged into some kind of mobile device.

Cell phones have become permanent fixtures attached to our bodies, gripped in our hands, stuffed in our pockets, always somewhere within reach. Friendships, love and commitment are now getting measured by how quickly and frequently text messages are sent. It’s rare to find a place where loud ringers aren’t ringing, where people aren’t talking on the phone or incessantly checking messages instead of engaging eye to eye, face to face, with those physically present. We’re visibly chained to our wireless gadgets.

People without cell phones are becoming extinct.  And so is the stillness, that rich and vibrant space for the quiet inside us, between us and all around. To an outsider looking in, it seems that cell phones and texting have become all-consuming habits.  The never-enoughness of calls and messages; the thrill of the next text quick-fix; the belief it’s our lifeline - it’s got the flavor of addiction.

And buried inside any addiction is something essential, beautiful and true seeking freedom to be expressed.  Our ceaseless high-speed communications show how much we yearn to connect.  We want to know we’re not alone, that they’re thinking about us and we’re thinking about them, that we’re loved, that we really belong. There’s nothing inherently wrong with modern technology and what it can offer us.  My concern is more about what’s been left behind in the addictive, distracting, quick-fix, disembodied rush.

Because it’s simply and naturally an unshakable fact of life:  we are innately connected, person to person, heart to heart, with all beings in the extraordinary web of life.  We can feel our belonging anytime, any place, and connect with anyone, anywhere, with our thoughts, loving regard and healing intent. All that’s available 24/7.  No batteries or satelite dishes required.  Giving and receiving along these invisible energy lines instinctively woven between us, we can feel our belonging, nourish our relationships, expand loving connections beyond time and space and words.  No one is ever out of range.

Most people are perplexed when they find out I don’t have a cell phone.  After a long puzzled pause, stumbling for words, they question how I could possibly survive.  Just call me on my heart cell – that’s what I like to say.  And if you listen inside the stillness, I promise you’ll feel me call you right back.