I’ve been flirting with the idea of a digital detox. I’m trying to figure out exactly what that means.
No cell phone for five days? Splitting with my laptop for a week? Maybe a trial separation from the television?
I want to put some distance between me and the screens that dominate my life. Not so much a divorce, as a trial separation.
Over the years, I have been through break-ups with the usual suspects, mostly alcohol and cigarettes. There have not been any significant others.
Sugar and salt, for example, were only ever harmless little dalliances. Alcohol and I continue our on-again off-again relationship, but I dumped cigarettes for good ages ago.
My flirtation with e-cigarettes was so occasional as to hardly warrant a mention.
This year I’m turning my attention to the ever-present tech in my life. Let’s call it digitalia. My phone, laptop, television, smartwatch. These relationships have become complicated.
Sometimes I fear that I am more present with them than with The Beloved, to whom I often hear myself say, “I just have to read this email”, “I must check my steps”, “Let me quickly send this message”.
Why can’t I put the screen aside and be in the moment with the person in front of me? The screen is under my thumb. It’s not going anywhere. I don’t have to check it immediately, nor do I really want to.
I don’t know why I treat these interruptions as emergencies. Why am I a slave to my phone? I don’t work for emergency services. I am not on call.
As it is, when I am “working”, I sit at my laptop for hours. Sometimes I am focused and working hard; other times I am just getting lost in the rabbit holes of the connected world.
Then there is the big black box in the lounge. While it can be the source of information and meaningful entertainment, the television can be a black hole that steals my time and takes me away from my lovely real life.
“Look at the time. It’s past 11! I thought it was only about 9pm. Oh well, bedtime, I guess.”
As much as I appreciate the portals to other worlds that I can access from my couch, there are times that I feel I am cheating on real life, maybe even The Beloved.
So I took this idea to The Beloved, who was less impressed than one might hope to hear about the sacrifices under consideration.
“How long are you planning on doing this?”
“I was thinking a week.”
“What? How will you work?”
“I thought we could do this during the holidays.”
“We? Who is ‘we’?”
So, I am facing this alone. The first key step, I think, will be to switch off my phone off and leave it in my bedside drawer.
As with any separation, I expect there will be pangs of longing. I’ll reach for my phone. I’ll catch myself wondering where my step-count for the day puts me against my group in the Strove app, or if I am missing anything juicy on one of my many WhatsApp groups.
Hopefully, I will find the peace and real-world connection to be worthy replacements. I imagine waking up and having a conversation over coffee, rather than reaching for my phone and starting to scroll.
I look forward to reading a book without constantly checking if that sound was an important email (“You have been nominated for a Pulitzer Prize, please confirm acceptance within the hour”) or a WhatsApp that I shouldn’t miss (“Your great aunt in Benin has died and left you $40 million. Send $50 before end of day to claim”.)
The screens aren’t the real villains of the story. It’s me, and all the other crazies out there. I just need to establish some boundaries. See you in the real world!
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