It has been a month since I deleted all social media from my phone. At first I was nervous, which told me it was something I needed to do. I set up my accounts on my iPad and then deleted the apps from my phone. I immediately felt a bit lighter.
In the beginning when I had a free moment, I would reach for my phone and automatically search for an app to scroll. It startled me how often I did this that first day. But soon, I started putting down my phone more often, separating myself from it in ways I haven’t in years. I find that while on my iPad, I am not as interested in scrolling.
There is a disconnect, but in a good way. I am able to see more clearly what is right in front of me, not wrapped up in posts or notifications or strangers’ lives who have no bearing on mine. I don’t need to constantly read the news or be overwhelmed by strangers’ opinions on the election. I can get up and help my children go to school, run around my neighborhood, write my next novel, dream of next year’s garden, visit with family and friends.
Most days, I go on a screen free walk after lunch. Some days I return books at the library. I watch the leaves disappear from the trees. The Halloween decorations are put away, but pumpkins linger on front steps. Candy canes and snowmen line some of the sidewalks. I notice how the light changes, softer and more golden in November.
I feel as if I am getting the benefits without the mindless scrolling and anxiety. I can still check on accounts that I’m interested in, can still post and connect with people when I want. But I have gained the present, my own presence now that I no longer reach for my phone so often.
When I was in graduate school I disconnected for an entire weekend. It was back before I had a smartphone, my phone missing several buttons. Even back then it was ancient by phone standards but I didn’t care. That weekend, I didn’t use my phone, watch TV, or connect to the internet in any way. I took walks and read and felt connected to myself in ways that I’d been missing. I’m not sure it’s possible to ever do that again. The world we live in does not allow it.
There needs to be a balance. I need a balance between spending time using technology and truly living in my own world and doing things I love to do.
I wrote those words fifteen years ago when I was in my early twenties. I had never had a professional job, I wasn’t married, I didn’t have children. My essay about disconnecting was published in a library journal.
Technology has only consumed more of my life these past fifteen years. There still needs to be a way to get the good without the bad. I need to be able to connect but then disconnect. I need to have a clearer mind, to feel focused and grounded. I need to spend time in the garden, time on walks, time with my family. I need to be able to see what’s right in front of me. My phone cannot help me with this, but maybe time away from it can.