I get a notification. I feel the piece of metal attached to my forearm vibrate and it shocks me out of reality.
Something is happening outside the reach of my consciousness, unaware to all of my five senses, and some algorithm thought it would be a good idea to let me know.
I can’t help but to check, like Pavlov’s dog I’m a slave to my lesser self, the part of me that I was promised to be able to contain when I started meditating years ago.
But in that moment I have a choice, and noticing that makes all the difference.
Dear Siri, notify me when I can help - and tell me how - but until then, let me and mine be.