My family is dragging me into the 21st century via a little black machine that I now carry. I refuse to learn its ten digit number and consequently am blissfully unable to give it out to anyone or receive interrupting calls. I also refuse to learn to "text", claiming an arthritic thumb.
I've installed an old fashioned analog clock on the front of the machine to make it useful as a timepiece. (Well, someone else installed it for me.)
Yesterday I discovered "apps" or "applications". You dream up something useful for the phone to do and search for someone who will give it to you for free. I now have a stopwatch "app" for timing Bach preludes. Nun komm der Heiden Heiland is 3 minutes, 45 seconds and 23 milliseconds. I also have a metronome "app" that sounds like a wheezing duck.
Last night I installed a meditation timer and can set the machine for however long I wish to fall into oblivion with God. 5 minutes? 15 minutes? I program a zen chime for long tone or short. The "media volume" button allows me to adjust the perfect chime volume so that I can be roused gently from my spiritual practice.
Not that I have much of a spiritual practice. I keep waiting for the right place or the right time. The right temperature or mood. To have the house to myself. To not be too busy or too tired. I've been waiting the the zen timer! And now I have it!
The little machine goes with me everywhere, so I can use the meditation app. on the metro or at work. I can use it on a park bench. I can even use it at home, so I no longer have an excuse not to engage in this quiet practice.
Of course, I haven't used it yet.