It’s September again.
Like I have each fall for about a decade, today I sat in the office surrounded by friends and fellow tech geeks, watching another beautifully executed Apple event evolve to its logical conclusion. Just like every year, I wondered how they continue to make so many amazing products. Once again, I want them all (well, maybe not that Rose-colored Apple Watch Sport).
Looking at the audience, I realized that at some point and to a greater or lesser degree I’ve been everyone in that room.
I’ve been an unabashed fan of Apple products specifically and technology in general—stunned and delighted at how their devices get better and smaller without fail, every year. I’ve been a writer and podcaster, looking at how those devices can improve lives, save time, and build cool things. I’ve been a creator, part of a team making a product that I desperately hope its users love as much as I do. I’ve been a presenter, pitching a customer on how my team’s product will solve their problems, save them time, and make their jobs easier.
Another year, and another set of beautiful images sliding by on the wall of a very large room. Another year of me sitting and watching as images of those images and the people watching them slide by on a much smaller screen, in our much smaller room here at high90 HQ.
At one point during today’s event I realized that I’d forgotten about one group. It’s a group I’ve never been a part of. As soon as I noticed that group, I knew it was the group I really wanted to belong to all these years.
I want to be one of the happy people on the wall.
I want to go about my life and not care one bit more about what piece of technology I’m using to capture the moment than I care about what kind of shoes I wear. I want to just take a video of my kid, laugh with him, then throw my device back in my pocket and forget about it. I don’t want to think about that video until we decide to laugh at it again ten years later. I want to be too busy to remember to charge my devices at night. I want to not even realize that they’re completely out of juice until well into the next day because I was too busy just… living.
Instead I’m sitting here tied to a chair, in a cave, watching shadows on a wall. It’s a beautiful cave. I decorated it. I picked the chair. I tied the ropes.
I want untie those ropes, stand up, turn around, and walk out of the cave. I know the shadows on the wall aren’t real, but maybe they represent something that is.
I want to see what’s making those shadows and maybe start making some myself.
If anyone’s looking for me I’ll be outside.