I stared at the black screen and pressed the home button.
Ah, perhaps I'd done the hard power 'off' by mistake.
The initial flash of panic -- "Where's my husband? How's my daughter doing? Did I miss an important email, call, text?" -- then gave way to the recollection of times past when I deliberately refused pagers and mobile phones. I was an unapologetic free spirit who didn't want to be summoned, chained, or subject to anyone else's whim. Where was that carefree woman now?
As it turns out, lurking right beneath the surface. I opened the windows and sunroof, allowing the wind to whip through my hair and stroke my senses. I inhaled the fresh air, and knew all would be well until I could arrive at my next destination and recharge the phone.
How did so many of us become chained to our phones, frenzied about the 'what ifs' and imagining all sorts of potential emergencies requiring our immediate attention?
I've been all over the world, and gravitate to environments where time has slowed down, and moments we too often take for granted are instead cherished. No matter how brief, that opportunity to break the chains and recalibrate was a poignant one.