time spent offline

I love it here. No, not here here but this little life of mine that the world said was impossible. Impossible to disconnect, impossible to unplug, impossible to spend time offline. And do what? Too late, they all shrugged, this is life now. Well, this is life for me now and seven years later, there is no going back. I have made my bed and I must celebrate.

I celebrate time spent in solitude. I wake up and I’m alone. I used to wake up to the news, the status updates, the chatter; still alone nonetheless but never without. Now, whenever I’m awake and I’m not with/around people— real, fleshy, meaty humans blabbering about their exhaustive list of complaints, the weather, grocery prices, and love or its lack thereof, I am alone.

I celebrate time spent with people. I used to believe I was an introvert but I was just online too much. Last Friday, I met a friend for a walk during lunch, briefly met up with an old coworker after work, then went out for Friday drinks with my other-other friend. When I got home around 11pm, I thought I could have probably said yes to my other-other-other friend’s invite to go out dancing that night. I ADORE TIME SPENT WITH PEOPLE.

I celebrate time spent dancing while waiting for the water to boil, the food to warm up, the coffee to brew. Instead of scrolling.

I celebrate time spent talking on the phone for hours.

I celebrate time spent giving hello and goodbye hugs. The best part about seeing people in-person is the hello and goodbye hugs. I won’t bore you with the science of physical touch but let me just say I love a good hug followed by “omg so good to see you!!!!!” You simply cannot experience that feeling via DMs and text messages.

I celebrate tech-free sleep. My best-est accomplishment!

I celebrate my private life. Sure, there is this but it’s not even 10 per cent of all that which makes up my life. So much of my life is being experienced rather than being broadcasted and I prefer it that way.

A private life is a happy life.

I celebrate the joys of missing out.

I celebrate time spent acknowledging strangers with a smile. If you’re not looking down, you’re looking around, and naturally you make eye contacts that turn into smiles: I see you, I notice you, you are not alone.

I celebrate time spent noticing. The birds chirping, silly cafe names, uncomfortable silences, rowdy teenagers and their loud banters, beautiful people, the trees blooming, a man tearing up at his phone at the bar, kids making the funniest and on-point commentary about reality, people jamming out to music in their cars.

I celebrate time spent wandering.

I celebrate time spent not knowing. I recently made a list: The world is ending, how should I cope? Things that made it to the list: Literature, ignore the apps, listen to good music, aim for connection, aim for beauty, make good use of time. Things that didn’t make it to the list: Follow the news.

I celebrate time spent ignoring the idiots online.

I celebrate time spent crying. Without pushing it all down with the digital pacifiers, my emotions surface easily. I’m learning to show up (instead of running away) and pay attention; say to the pain, it’s okay, I’m here, I’m sorry for everything. “Feelings just want to be felt.” (And) If these walls could talk/ they‘d tell me to go deep.

I celebrate time spent doing absolutely nothing.

I celebrate time spent moving my body. Exercise, dance, jump, crawl: Do it however but just do it.

I celebrate time spent goofing around. Something about being totally in the world, grounded in reality and away from the digital noise, without care for capturing and broadcasting my life, without care for how Others are presenting online, that has brought out my most fun, carefree, childlike delight.

I celebrate time spent journaling. I get compliments on my handwriting. You tend to get better at things you do every single day.

I celebrate time spent taking my demons for walks. Demons hate fresh air.

I celebrate time spent offline.