The Phone Was Already Broken

I had just forgotten.

A couple months ago I bought an iPhone 17 Pro.

It’s a beautiful phone. The screen is incredible, the camera is amazing, and it can do far more than I even use it for.

I didn’t want to hide how nice it looked. I carried it carefully, made sure it stayed in my pocket, and tried to avoid anything that might scratch or damage it.

Then one day I sat down at my desk and the phone slid out of my pocket.

It hit the floor and dented a corner.

I felt awful. My new phone was no longer perfect.

So I did what most people do. I bought a case. A nice one—something that still looked good but would protect it. Then I added a screen protector to keep it even safer.

Now it was protected.

And I relaxed a little. I enjoyed using the phone without worrying about damaging it, even though I couldn’t show off its original beauty anymore.

Then one evening I was out for a walk.

I had my phone in my hand and tripped on something. In that split second I let go of it.

It fell and landed in the exact wrong way. Despite the case. Despite the screen protector.

The screen shattered across the entire top of the phone.

And right there, in that moment, I realized something.

The moment I bought the phone, it was already broken.

The mistake wasn’t dropping it. The mistake was becoming attached to it—treating it like it was something permanent, or like it somehow reflected something about me.

It reminded me of an old Buddhist teaching of the “broken cup.”

When you buy a cup, you should think of it as already broken. Because someday it will be.

If you accept that from the beginning, you can enjoy the cup while you have it. And when it eventually breaks, you won’t be surprised, saddened, or disappointed.

The same is true for almost everything in life.

Accomplishments.

Possessions.

Even the people we love.

None of them are permanent.

That doesn’t mean we shouldn’t enjoy them. It just means we should hold them a little more lightly.

My phone breaking was a small reminder of that.

So now I’m getting another phone because the cracks are affecting the front camera and text inputs. And yes, I’m ordering a case and a screen protector.

But not because I’m trying to keep it perfect.

Just because I’d rather avoid the inconvenience of replacing it again.

And now I can enjoy it for what it actually is:

A tool.

A camera.

A way to connect with the rest of the world.

Nothing more.

And someday this one will break too.