A few months ago I had unwanted activity happen on my cell phone and the only way to deal with the barrage of texts and emails (minimum 50 an hour – every hour) was to replace my cell number. At the moment I didn’t have the time to think about what it would feel like to erase a significant part of my adult life’s connection to my past.

So much has changed in the last ten or so years. My constant since I was in my twenties has been my number. If you didn’t know my email address, you would know my number. My cell number was like what a mailing address was for years and years. My location, my point of contact. If I moved, then my mail was forwarded and I was able to let senders of re-routed mail know that we resided in a new location. Now, if you knew me by my old number you will find it ring and ring….and a text message seems to show I’m travelling as it’s no longer in the usual blue bubble.

I’ve been thinking about how much our lives are truly captured in the little rectangle we carry in our back pocket. No longer are we defined by our address. My life used to be my street address and phone number. It morphed into my email address too and now we are more and more defined by our cell number. It’s on us – in our hand, purse or pocket.

It truly is our life.

I can leave the house without my purse, but I don’t seem to be able to leave without my phone. It’s my wallet, my computer, my scanner, my address book and camera. Not to mention microphone, note pad, card game, photo album and countless newspapers and magazines.

Goodbye to the old me and old chapters. I truly am on a new adventure. Gathering up new exciting memories that will forever be connected to this new constant.

Cheers to new beginnings!