I recently spent a week offline. The occasion was a retreat of sorts, where people who felt overwhelmed with too many plans returned to comfortable accommodation in the woods to reset.
I became anxious and expected to constantly think about unreceived, unacted information still flowing into my dark devices. Instead, cutting it was surprisingly easy. I’ve been a dog walker with an empty leash, ready for the pull of a persistent beast, and have been surprised many times to look down and see nothing there.
Unlike the self-directed digital detoxes I’ve worked so hard on in the past that lasted all day long and left me feeling like I was missing out on important communications, this time I’ve been trying to help others who also went cold turkey. I was with 30 people.
With smartphones and laptops gone, we’ve rediscovered skills that are being lost, like eye contact and small talk. We were forced to remain present during lulls in conversation, which created a kind of intimacy. The real world provided more than enough entertainment in its vividness. I was rooted in the unfolding story of daily life, where the next moment followed the next.
When I think of my cell phone, I think of it with disdain, as unpredictable, chaotic with asynchronous communications, and like an annoying, energy-draining friend that I have to cut out of my life. I did.
I wondered how I could free myself from the technology that seemed to bind me outside of the greenhouses of the sanitarium. For most of us, it’s not practical to completely disconnect for long periods of time, but encourage your family, friends, and colleagues to do the same. (My colleague Casimir Hill also tried switching to flip phones, but it wasn’t sustainable.)
We know common tips and tricks, like keeping your phone out of the bedroom, deleting social media apps, and switching your phone screen to grayscale. Why doesn’t anything seem to stick?
We asked author Oliver Berkman, author of the time management book Four Thousand Weeks, if he’s discovered any new strategies for rebuilding our relationship with technology. The title of his book refers to the average human lifespan and begs the question, “How many more weeks do we waste doomscrolling?”
Berkman agrees that, taken in isolation, there probably hasn’t been a new strategy to free us from phone addiction. But if you make a philosophical change, practical change becomes more achievable.
change perspective
The key, says Berkman, is to adjust the way you think about your own agency. His work explores the common view of distraction and social media, that when our attention is snatched away against our will by the evil claws of our Instagram feeds, we can’t just sit there and go crazy. He challenges what he considers to be the prevailing view of “concentration.”
But that’s not what most people experience. In reality, he says, whatever you’re working on causes unpleasant emotions. Perhaps it’s boredom, fear of not being able to complete the task at hand, or anxiety about not having enough time. To escape that unpleasant feeling, you escape to your phone.
Once you’re there, it’s designed to keep you alert and waste your day. But keep in mind, he says, “distraction starts from within us, and it’s not just some evil corporation in Silicon Valley stealing away our focus.” Then we will be held accountable. We are able to recognize when unpleasant emotions arise, which increases our ability to resist them.
change address
What I miss most about a week without technology is the feeling that real life is all there is to it. There was no online parallel world where I had to have obligations and chores and maintain my persona. I only needed to be present in one area of her.
Rather than trying to eradicate social media, Berkman suggests working on “switching your default settings to real life.” “Remember that your real life is in your physical environment, in the people you talk to and the things you do,” he says. “Make social media a place you go, not a place you live.”
To reinforce this concept, distance yourself from noise and pinging. Keep your phone at least 10 feet away from your workstation during the day, turn it off on your nightstand at night, and keep alerts and push notifications off, advises Aditi Nerurkar, Ph.D. . He is an internist at Harvard Medical School and the author of a new book on stress and resilience, The 5 Resets.
Go analog
Celeste Headley, a journalist and author of Do Nothing, recently invested in a cuckoo clock. “Apps are designed to steal our attention, making us forget about the passage of time,” says Headley. When she hears the cuckoo sound of her clock chiming every hour of the day, she looks up and realizes how long she’s been glued to her own device.
Similarly, when you need to focus, flip the 30-minute or 60-minute hourglass. When she feels like reaching for her phone, the glass serves as a reminder that only a few minutes have passed since she started the task.
Berkman cautions that when you change a behavior, like training a new muscle, it’s likely to be uncomfortable at first. But in our conversations, we came to the conclusion that for some people, what it takes to really make a change isn’t having a strict plan, but making things a little easier on yourself. Even if he loses an hour on social media, he can admit it and move on.
I’m drawn to this gentle way of managing attention. After all, I’m the type of person who goes on self-discovery retreats in the woods. Berkman is drawn to a more disciplined approach, but admits there’s something to a softer approach as well.
“I kind of hate when people talk about self-pity,” Berkman says. “But you know what? It’s because I need it and I need it. That’s usually what the disgusting reaction is.” – This article originally appeared in The New York Times .