I’ll be completely honest with you, my audience. I love my iPad Pro, it’s what I’m using to write this very post. But, in the two months I’ve been using it my commitment hasn’t been 100% unwavering. I’ve checked Apple’s refurbished website (maybe the best place to buy a laptop, full stop) for MacBook Pro options more than once. I’ve read several reviews of the new 16 inch MacBook Pro, and I questioned my friend about his with a noticeable uptick in enthusiasm. I’ve even used my iMac more than I expected, although with lackluster results (have I mentioned how distracting those things are?). The point is, working from an iPad Pro is a large adjustment, and sometimes I just want to go back to my comfortable place wasting time on a MacBook Pro. Here’s what I’ve realized, the feelings aren’t bad and it doesn’t mean I’m going to buy a MacBook Pro.
It’s normal to feel a little nostalgic for the old way of doing things. And it takes time, more than a week or two, or maybe even a month or two, to get comfortable with a new setup. But I’ll say this, after a while, it does get more comfortable. The question of whether my feelings of nostalgia are rooted in some flaw in the iPad Pro or in my own addiction to familiarity is slowly being revealed as the latter. All that stuff I wrote about the focusing power of the iPad Pro? It still rings true. All the capability and portability are still there. I still get more of my most important things done on my iPad Pro, it has forced me to work more intentionally.
So I guess this is my thought: when you commit to something, you probably have to commit to it for more than a few weeks. Change isn’t easy but it’s often better. My iPad Pro experience falls right in line with other good change initiatives, not always comfortable, but ultimately moving me in a better direction.
For technophiles, like yours truly, this is a really fun question. It clues me into your level of technophilia, tells me something about your priorities, and it’s a nice way to get a light conversation going on a subject about which I probably know more than you do.
But, as a confessed technophile, it’s a question I don’t only ask other people, in fact, more often it becomes a conversation I have with myself. I regularly overthink about which phone I have, why I have this phone, if I should get a different phone, if I were to get a different phone which one would it be, if I did have a different phone in mind how would I go about procuring one, and it goes on (that sounds much more disturbed as I write it out than it does when it’s happening in my brain). It doesn’t only happen with phones either. I fret about which computer to use, what configurations would be best, what size, what model, should I use a iPad instead, what if I got a desktop, if I were to get something different where would I get it, what would I do with my old one, and on, and on, and on (now I’m starting to think I may have a problem). The questions themselves aren’t bad, and the purpose, I tell myself, is worthy: I want to use tools that will help me be most effective. But, I made a discovery this morning, or maybe more like something I knew all along but pretended to not know. I determined that my effectiveness is much more affected by my endless, meandering indecision than by the tools I have or could have. So, in the interest of actual effectiveness, I’ve made a resolution: no more tech questions for one full year. I’ll allow myself the space to re-evaluate next year, conveniently right around my birthday, and decide if I want to change anything. Until then, I’m using what I’ve got, which honestly is pretty great anyways. I am a technophile after all.