The truth is, we were all a bit nervous – me especially. The thought of spending three weeks in a north woods cabin with no WiFi and no television gave us serious pause.
“What will we dooooo?” Rowan whined. “You’ll figure something out,” I assured him. “Either that or you’ll be really, really bored. It’s pretty much your choice.”
I’m as critical of my own addiction to screens as I am of my kids’. Sure, I need social media for my job. It’s how I connect with readers, share my blog posts and support other writers. But I abuse it. I waste A LOT of time online, which impacts not only my productivity, but also my mental health. The time I spend online rarely fills the well. More often than not, scrolling social media leaves me feeling agitated, empty and mysteriously depressed.
After dinner the first night at the cabin, Brad, the kids and I sat around the living and talked, among other things, about global population growth. Population growth! Who would have thought my ten-year-old and fourteen-year-old sons would be interested in talking about population growth!
Honestly, this conversation likely would not have happened at our own house, where, after dinner, Noah typically retreats to his room to listen to music or play computer games, Brad and Rowan enjoy an episode of “River Monsters” or “The Carbonaro Effect,” and I slide into my favorite corner of the couch with my laptop. We chat in bits and pieces between episodes or when Noah descends the stairs to grab a snack, but we rarely converse. Stepping away from our screens for an extended period has given us the space and time to connect in a much deeper and more meaningful way.
I’m not saying this technology hiatus won’t have its challenging moments. Yesterday, after 12 straight hours of “quality family time” with my kids, my head just about popped off and plunked into Lake Superior. I ended up sending everyone to their respective beds – myself included — for some much-needed reading time.
Mostly, though, I think it’s going to be good for all of us. Really good. As I sit typing this post at a local cafe, coffee and wild berry scone at my side, my three men are deep in the woods at the edge of a rushing river in pursuit of the elusive “brookie” (brook trout, for those of you who don’t speak fishese). Later we’ll walk Josie beneath a canopy of birch trees, search the shore for the perfect skipping stones and snug under our blankets with a good book.
It’s not easy to take a technology break. Believe me, if I weren’t tucked into a cabin in the north woods of Minnesota with the nearest WiFi a 15-minute drive down the road, I wouldn’t be inclined to step away from my computer for an extended period of time…and certainly not for three weeks. But this forced technology hiatus is helping me to see how critically important it is to step away – not just for a few hours or a weekend at a time, but for an extended period.
Small breaks away from technology are necessary and good, but longer breaks, if you can manage them, are better. After weathering the inevitable two or three days of agitated restlessness that typically accompany a technology detox, you’ll be surprised to find that your days are longer and slower, your breathing deeper and easier, and your mind more free to roam into new, unexplored places.
And the truth is, no one will miss you. I’m not saying that to be cruel; it’s simply a fact. Too much time online leads us to believe that we absolutely have to be there – that if we’re not, the Internet will break or worse, that we’ll be forgotten forever. Neither is true. The noisy, busy world will be just fine without your voice in it for a week or two. And when you come back, it will be as if you were never gone.
This post is the fifth in my Spiritual Habits series. If you missed a post or two, you can catch up here:
How Our Habits Can Impact Our Spirituality {introduction}
The Spiritual Habit of Digging Dandelions
