Growing up my family would go on annual 7+ day backpack trips in the alpine of the Sierra Mountains of California. My dad didn’t often take a lot of time off from work so my mom put a lot of thought and energy into this trip. Planning would begin in the fall, a few months after the conclusion of the last one. Pouring over topographical maps, my mom would use a sharpened pencil to determine if a certain off-trail route could be climbed or descended in order to get us where we wanted to go. At first, the trips were designed to be able to see and experience as many places as possible. Overtime, the priorities in planning evolved and the routine became an alternation of moving day, layover day, moving, layover, etc.
I looked forward to these trips for many reasons: ritual, friends, memories, shared stories, and uninterrupted family time. As I aged into my mid- to late teens, I began to value them for another reason. Once a year I knew I would get my spiritual high. It might happen sitting on top of some granite outcropping overlooking a crystal clear lake watching the sunrise with a warm mug of hot cocoa in my hands. It might happen reaching the summit of a high peak feeling truly on top of the world. It might even happen dipping my tired, dry, dusty feet into a cool stream at the end of a long hike. Whatever the moment, or often series of moments, I knew that I felt closer to the divine than at any other point in the year. I felt a healthy, necessary disconnect with “the world” and a strong tether to the earth, nature, my spirit and the bigger meaning of life.
I laugh now, reflecting at what I then thought was “unplugging”. I have to dig deep to even remember what I would have had to unplug from. I was giving up radio and television and thus the news, and that is certainly something. I was giving up the telephone, but again this feels laughable in the modern world of cell phones. That was it.
It had been 26 years since I had been on a backpack trip of more than 2 nights until two summers ago. I was looking forward to the spiritual high, which I need now as much as I needed it in the late 80’s. I was surprised to find that I just couldn’t unplug. I couldn’t get out of my own head. At the time it was very frustrating. I knew what it was that I was craving; I knew what I needed. I just couldn’t get my fingers around it.
After some time of reflection, I think I have an idea of why it was so hard for me. In the world I live in now, whenever I have a lull or need a distraction, I reach for my phone. I might scroll Instagram, I might play Polytopia and take over the world, I might peruse the news, or I might even use it to make a phone call. Just kidding on that last one, I’m much more likely to text than make a phone call. Our trip was full of “down time” whether it was slogging slowly up the trail, waiting for the sun to go down after dinner, or laying awake on my sleeping pad wishing that exhaustion meant sleep instead of restlessness. I lay awake for what felt like hours staring at the stars, but unable to feel the calm and peace I was expecting. I felt almost twitchy wishing I had my phone to reach for. I tried opening the phone a couple of times, but the only thing I could do with no service was scroll through the pictures I had taken that day. Not nearly distracting enough.
There is probably a need for distraction sometimes. Sometimes the brain hosts a loud, raucous party in our head, with thoughts swirling and twirling their best dance moves across the mind. At times like these, the simple distractions of scrolling or a mindless game feel like they are helpful. After my inability to unplug, I am starting to wonder if this method of coping has become a crutch for me and I’m failing to learn to handle my mind flows by my own power. I’ve also noticed that I struggle to imagine or day dream. My mind is conditioned for input instead of output.
I’ve set a goal for myself to limit my time on my phone or other devices. Here are the results so far:
I’ve read 4 books so far in 2024.
I’m sleeping through the night. (My phone is now charging in another room and nowhere near my bed.)
I’m finding more time to journal and to write.
I’m keeping up with my goal journal and planning.
I’m teaching myself to daydream again - to imagine, to wonder, to get curious.
Now I’ll need to plan another backpack trip for this summer to see if it’s easier to unplug. I’ll keep you posted.
I’d love to hear how you “unplug”. What do you notice when you do? What do you notice when you don’t?
Hey, that's a good challenge!
I intentionally unplug anytime I’m with my kids. Tim and I have a rule that there’s no cell phones when the kids are present…so that we can be “present” with them. They are strictly not allowed on our phones or any tech, either. I can honestly say I unplug from the noise quite regularly throughout the day and enjoy the gifts of my children, and even when I’m alone I limit my phone as a distraction. It’s challenging, but possible with intention. Trying to model this for the kids!