Life and business are about human connection. And computers are about trying to kill you in a lake. To me the choice is easy.-Michael Scott, Dunder Mifflin Manager, The Office
Initially,
I was excited about the weeklong no internet/no TV challenge. Sometimes I feel
tied down by the internet and online communication. Sometimes I feel completely
burnt out on television. I thought this week would be one of freedom from
technology, when I could explore my inner depths and get in tune with the world
around me. I intentionally planned to do this challenge in the late fall so I
could spend a lot of time outside admiring the unique beauty around us this time
of year.
That’s
not what really happened.
As is often the case, things kept coming up to push
out my technology fast. Finally I decided if I was going to do it during peak
foliage season, I would have to do it this week even though it wasn’t
necessarily ideal.
I had originally planned to start on Sunday, but pushed it
out a day when I babysat some sweet nieces who are easily entertained by shows
on Netflix.
I
tried to get the online banking and bill pay in order so I could not log in for
a week. I tried to think ahead to all the activities I might do during the week and
look up the information I thought I would need. When we went to bed Sunday
night I made sure to set the timer on the TV to shut off before midnight.
My
normal routine involves checking my email when I first wake up. Actually on
nights that I can’t sleep I use my cell phone to check the time and I also
check any emails that come through.
The
little icon on the lock screen of my phone told me a dozen emails had arrived
in my inbox overnight. I told myself these were most likely spam or junk. It
became much more difficult when emails filtered in throughout the day to a
folder reserved for friends and family.
That
first day the hardest thing to manage was my fear of messing up. I was so
afraid I’d fall into my normal internet and TV routine and not realize it until
it was too late. I was so scared that as I sat chatting with a friend that day,
she turned her laptop around at one point to show me a flier on her screen. My
face became so stricken she thought I had fallen suddenly ill until I told her
I couldn’t look at the webpage because of my challenge. We had a good laugh.
I
was surprised (though my husband was not) at how long it took me to fall asleep
that first night. I use the television show Friends to fall asleep. Sometimes I
can’t make it through the opening credits. Usually I don’t even finish one
show. I’ve developed a full repertoire of sleep techniques so I figured they
would be my fall-backs this week. But even resorting to an Advil PM one night or
becoming physically exhausted after a day of rock climbing didn’t help. On average it took two to three hours to fall asleep and I usually woke up
throughout the night and struggled to fall back to sleep.
By the second day I was starting to feel like
the challenge was a bust. It wasn’t extremely difficult, impactful or
enlightening. It just was a thing I was doing for a week. I surmised that it
was possible that I just wasn’t very attached to technology. (I am notorious
for keeping my cell phone on silent and ignoring or not returning phone calls.)
I
had wanted to spend the week outdoors, but my health and my schedule seemed to
be preventing me from much hiking or exploring. I felt like Tuesday might be my
only day to go out on my own. There were several trails and areas I had hoped
to visit during this week and struggled to pick just one, but decided on
Natural Bridge. I felt comfortable (though this is not advisable) going there
by myself. It is my favorite place on earth AND I hadn’t visited yet this year.
To go a full calendar year without visiting Natural Bridge is a travesty I hope
I never endure.
As
a side note, I saw a lady who had taken the sky lift up being helped by two men
accompanying her. She was obviously elderly and in poor physical condition. But
she was walking slowly, with help, to see the bridge. Later in the hike, I
stopped to take pictures for an elderly couple visiting from California who
were attempting a full trail even though the lady had knee replacement surgery.
Both of those women determined, despite their physical ailments, to explore
this place gave me hope and encouragement for my own life. Despite being ill,
you just always keep climbing.
On
day three, when my phone icons told me I had more than 100 emails waiting,
Johnie mentioned he could turn data completely off and remove the icons
altogether. I allowed him to do this and worried I might be even more tempted
to check my email not knowing anything at all about how many messages I might
be receiving. Not seeing the icons actually ended up helping though, because I
just kept telling myself that I probably wasn’t getting any important emails
anyway.
I
also had a moment of clarity that day that seemed to add some reason to the
whole challenge. I don’t want to talk too much about my health. I don’t want
everyone to think “Oh it’s just Amy talking about being sick again.” But my
life has been changed and as I’m trying to process those changes things come up
and out that I feel compelled to write about and share with others. And one
thing I have been recently struggling with is embracing (or more accurately,
discovering) my new identity. I am not capable of everything I used to be
capable of. And I am still adjusting to that.
Part
of that adjustment is learning to find my worth and value outside of what I am
able to do. I have been trying to identify ways I am inappropriately measuring
my worth and to seek out healthy and correct gauges. (I may blog about this in
the future.)
I
realized that I expect or hope for some of my value or worth to come from
online messages. I have received some great emails over the years. Johnie and I
fell in love with each other through emails and instant messages. I think it is
a powerful and useful tool we can use for good. But when I don’t get the
response I was hoping for that should have no impact on my value or my worth.
Sometimes I have let that be the case. The fact that someone didn’t reply to my
email must mean they don’t love me. Or worse, that there is something wrong
with me that makes me unlovable or less lovable. That is not correct. Even if
my inbox is empty I am still worthwhile. My value is not tied to emails. Or
communication from people. Even when we don’t hear what we need to hear (in any
form) that doesn’t mean we aren't worth it.
It
wasn’t until day four that I began missing television. My brain was fried that day and television is how I zone out. I felt no outlet to
shut everything (internally) off completely. I ended up finding a mindless
non-internet-using game I had downloaded on my phone a long time ago and hadn’t
played in over a year. It was the closest thing I could find to fill the TV
void.
On
day five Johnie walked in on me crying and this was the conversation:
Johnie:
What’s wrong, Amy?
Me:
I’m just thinking about things. (It was understood these things were unrelated
to the challenge.)
Johnie:
When is your challenge over?
Me:
Monday. Do you think I need the internet?
Johnie:
I was just asking.
I
haven’t decided yet if the diversion from thoughts provided by the internet and
television is a good thing or a bad thing. On one hand, I feel like we can
avoid and numb our thoughts to an unhealthy level, completely ignoring things
that need to be dealt with. On the other hand, it takes time to work through
things and sometimes we need a break. I think it is hard to find the balance of
when to engage in thoughts and when to rest from them. I fear that I sometimes try
to tamp them down or ignore them a little too much.
By
day six I was feeling more adjusted to being offline. There were many things
that popped up throughout the week – weather forecasts, recipes, things people
wanted to show me online – that were unexpected moments when I would have
automatically turned to the internet. I felt like I had worked through most of
the surprises. And we had a day of rock climbing planned. I figured it would
be an easy day for the challenge.
But
once more I was surprised as all my friends went home that night and uploaded
pictures online. Pictures everyone else could look at and talk about, but I
could not see. It was tough to watch my husband look through online pictures
without peaking over his shoulder. But I refrained.
The
final day of the challenge involved more averting of eyes and reminders I’d see
everything the following day as friends continued to share and discuss things
from the day before.
I
was sure that last day would be easy. But, I must admit, by this point I was
done learning and growing. I’m embarrassed to say I began counting down the
hours to midnight and seriously questioned ending the challenge a few hours
early. (Really, what would be the difference between checking my email at 8 pm
versus 8 am?)
Also, Johnie and I decided to go out for dinner and were sat in an area surrounded by televisions. Sports were on and I wasn't interested at all, but it felt like cheating. With a red face, I asked to be seated in an area without televisions and thankfully the server graciously moved us.
As
I’ve reflected on some of the positive aspects of this challenge, I do feel
like I may try to remain more disconnected from online media and communication.
I think that instead of being always online – always connected via a smart
phone with messages streaming in, I may delegate a couple times each day as
online time, or I may delegate one day a week as an internet-free day.
I
also feel stronger to fast from other things in my life. I have always
struggled with fasting in general (and especially fasting from food), but I
feel like I can look back on this time and think about how I calmly went through a week without email or television.
I
was texting the friend who issued this challenge to me and I admitted to her it
has taken some discipline not to check my email – that has been the hardest
thing. She reminded me of a time in college when our internet went down
unexpectedly and she walked into our apartment to find me hunched over my desk
weeping in the middle of the night. Thinking something tragic had happened, she
rushed to my side and asked. Through heaving sobs I said, “I just want to check
my email.”
The fact that I can now go an entire week without email and without a meltdown shows growth, right?
