Iceland and Dependancy
I needed this one out of my hands... slightly unfinished, but whateva.
Last week I was in Iceland. I wanted this trip to be a reflective one, so I made the decision to give up my phone and iPad (I know I am an iPad kid) for the whole trip. It really doesn’t sound like much now, less than a week away from my devices, but when I was in Toronto, I needed to be a constantly reachable person, and it was exhausting. Like many university students returning home, burnt out from school and complicated social dynamics, I felt myself regress into my old 16-year-old habits. In Halifax, I have been very good at keeping a distance between me and my phone. I gave up on TikTok years ago, I didn’t have Instagram for most of the winter semester, and I constantly lost my phone because I would completely forget that it existed for short periods of time. So this homecoming, one that I thought would be full of sleep and reading books, left me extremely disappointed in myself for falling back into these old habits and obsessions with the attention of others (via social media mostly). So Instagram reappeared on my homescreen as did Hinge, and I began to stalk people on Spotify (this was a new and noteworthy one for me). I hated that I gave in so easily to this past temptation, but I also felt like I physically couldn’t go an hour without checking my phone.
Recently, I told my mother how I am physically incapable of not chugging my drinks (alcoholic or not), which the previous night had led to me being super drunk for the first hour of the Blondeshell concert. She told me that chugging your drinks was a sign of an addictive personality, and it's funny because I literally sucked my thumb until I was in grade 8 (and of course she knows this), but no, me chugging my drinks is what makes her think I have an addictive personality.
Addiction runs through both sides of my family. I have never been a direct viewer of the harms it has caused; my great uncle, popa and my mum’s grandfather. But I have always been careful, I don’t finish my joints, I will never purchase my own pack of cigarettes, I don’t drink alone, creating silly rules makes these behaviours feel slightly less harmful. I think addiction is a very loaded word, and I am in no way saying my phone dependency or obsessive ruminations in any way equal to the experience of someone battling addiction. I am merely intrigued by my own habits and family history.
In preparation for this trip, I brought my digital camera back to life and dug out my mother’s old pink iPod nano. I spent this time listening to John Denver's greatest hits and reading the new Hunger Games book, and then Sally Rooney’s “Beautiful World Where Are You,” which Lillian had lent me, and taking many, many photos. I struggled to really write during this time; this struggle seems to continue now that I am back in Halifax. I did like these excerpts from my time in Iceland:
“Yesterday we did many a thing. Meaning we went to the Perlan museum and then went to the wrong lighthouse in the evening. From the rock wall, we spotted a seal looking right at us, two more in the distance. I think it was a harbour seal because of its dark colouring– but I lack a phone to fact-check my identification. We climb over to the sandy part of the shore. I pick through the drift algae and pick up what I believe are sea sponges, though I have never encountered them on shore like this before. My dad gets his shoe soaked by a rogue wave. I take my sneakers and socks off to let the waves cover my toes. The cold water leaves me stinging after a few pulses of the 8-degree ocean. My feet ache down to the bone before going numb. It’s pretty lovely. I enjoy these simple adventures. My father takes his shoes and socks off too. We walk bare-footed over the gravel road back to the car.
Cond’t
We saw humpback whales today on our tour and a few puffins. I am slowly forgetting you exist for small moments at a time. I am so, so exhausted, I can’t imagine being awake for much longer today. I have never been colder than I was today, getting soaked by the salt spray while sitting on the bow of that whale watching boat for 3 hours. I think that this trip will be the start of me breaking my harmful phone habits.
Cond’t
Yesterday (June 29th), we drove the Golden Circle. We snorkelled in the Silfra rift, which is located between the North American and Eurasian tectonic plates. The water was 2-4 degrees Celsius. We were wearing these dry suits. Somehow, they worked for everyone except my mother and me. I was soaked down to my bra and underwear. I couldn’t get warm until I ditched my bra when in the farm/restaurant bathroom. I nursed a lemon ginger tea for lunch because of the troubles my tummy caused earlier. We then headed to the geysers. I kept thinking how the first person who witnessed this must have felt– personally, I would have thought the ocean was bursting through the crust and that the world was ending. There was also a weiner dog here, and that made me wonder what it would be like to witness this force as a weiner dog– that one I have no clue about. We then went to see the Gullfoss, a beautiful layered waterfall. At this point, it was pouring rain. But Angus and I decided to trek all the way down to come face to face with it. As we reached the first roped-off observation point, the sun peeked through the clouds behind us, illuminating the mist and creating the most breathtaking rainbows I’ve ever seen.
Cond’t
In the book I have been reading, “Beautiful World Where Are You,” the main characters communicate only via email. And I really like the meaning that these communications bring. I think that, in general, I have a disdain for meaningless texting or at least the very specific genre of it where you know that the person on the other side of the screen doesn’t care to know how you are. I want to primarily partake in meandering, thoughtful monologues that warrant someone else's fully broken-down opinions in response, while also leaving space for little stories and oddities that make up our lives. Anyway, Iceland, my phone (or lack of). I have gotten to a point where I don’t even reach for my back pocket when I would feel a false, phone-like vibration. And I would just listen to John Denver and imagine myself learning these songs on guitar once my acoustic was back in my hands. I think I miss having someone think I am talented and worth showing off. The sun doesn’t set here; it makes it all so confusing.”