time spent offline

Recently before bed, I grabbed my laptop to watch something until I could fall asleep and in the midst of the British version of The Office playing (the only version available on Kanopy) it dawned on me that I would rather be in the dark, in the quiet of the night with my thoughts and dreaming of the morning to come to play with words than the noise from the internet keeping me company. It shocked and delighted me, that I now prefer my thoughts over the noise, the quiet of the dark night over the blinding lights of the computer; the rhythms of the night peering through my bedroom window to keep me company— The wind whispering, Good day, lady, time to rest now.

If you were to tell me a year ago that this would be possible, that one random day in May of 2024 I would be saying to myself, shocked and delighted, I much prefer a screen-free evening left to my thoughts and dreams than scrolling through the digital noise to avoid myself, I would laugh, and laugh, and laugh, and laugh and deem you crazy: It felt impossible. And yet, lately, the most difficult part of the day to be offline, the evening, has become my most cherished time to be offline, away from the noise of the internet and into the dark quiet of the night; chuckling to myself as I remember that funny thing one of my students said, smiling to myself at the way that stranger smiled at me on the train, dreaming of the morning to come to play with words until sleep takes its course.

You can have whatever you like, and if you like, this is how I manage evenings spent offline.

Good morning!

How you start you day is, of course, how you will spend your day.

And when the morning comes, when my alarm goes off announcing the start of another day, another chance to make something of my one wild, precious life, I get up, turn off the alarm and I get on with my offline morning routine. This is my most cherished, life-affirming ritual I show up to day after day, and have been doing so for years now; and without it, without an hour or two spent in solitude first thing in the morning playing with words, I don’t know how I would manage; how I ever managed waking up to Twitter shouting at me what’s wrong with the world, with me, with the day to come first thing in the morning. All I need, all I will allow first thing in the morning now is a book, my journal and some writing supplies: I read, I write, I ponder.

Starting your day offline is the best place to start your unplugged evening journey. Who knows what the day will bring, and how unbearable the evening will feel to be all alone with your thoughts, but the morning, especially the wee hours of the morning before the world wakes up, before the kids need to be fed, the spouse nurtured, your boss wants your input on the project timeline asap, the early morning is truly the best place to start your evening spent offline practice. Wake up an hour or so earlier than the day demands of you and begin your day with a morning routine, a ritual, that doesn’t require internet connection. I strongly suggest, like there are no words to describe how much this practice has completely changed my life for the better, I strongly recommend journaling as a practice of making sense of your thoughts, feelings, experiences, life. Curiosity helps, even with yourself.

And once I stow away the books, journal, writing supplies, and chug the last bit of the now cold and disgusting coffee, I feel adequately prepared to face the day ahead and whatever it will bring with it. Some mornings, having learned something necessary from the books, or having come to a realization all on my own on those empty pages writing, writing, writing, writing, until at about page 3 the truth emerges nonchalantly and smacks me right in the face, I feel elated, giddy to face the day.

Have a wonderful day!

And, “How you spend your days is, of course, how you spend your life.”

Knowing this, if you can manage to have a wonderful day, day after day, that’s a wonderful life. And despite what Hollywood might have you believe, all the noise on social media shouting at you how much it takes, it actually doesn’t take much to have a wonderful day. You just need to learn to keep a full day of ordinary delights, day after day. Delight is my favourite feeling-state because although you can fake many other positive feeling-states— happiness, joy, contentment— you can’t really fake delight. If you try hard enough, you can pretend, even to yourself, you are happy, joyful, content, but it’s much more difficult to fake delight; to squeal with pleasure, quietly or audibly. It doesn’t take much to feel delighted either, you can learn how to by watching children play; it comes to them naturally.

100 ways I find more delight in the daily, the ordinary

Goodnight!

Once you have managed a good morning, a wonderful day filled with ordinary delights, it becomes far easier to manage an unplugged evening. The desire to escape the terror of the day lessens with each passing day spent in the calm, quiet mornings pouring over your journal seeking truth; late afternoons spent noticing birds flying freely, children playing delightfully. It’s far easier to manage an unplugged evening knowing tomorrow, when the day comes, it will bring with it another chance to play with truth in the quiet, peaceful morning, another chance to notice love unfolding, trees swaying to the sound of the wind, time spent in good company laughing, sobbing, knowing.

It helps to put the devices away, of course— Out of sight, out of mind. It also helps immensely to have a nighttime routine, a ritual, that makes you feel good. The thing is, if you don’t feel good, if all you feel is dread, frustration, annoyance at the day’s end, you won’t unplug: You need the escape. You brain thinks, Sure, I can put this phone down but then I’ll feel like shit; No, thank you. But if you can create something better to look forward to— A novel, a film, puzzles, evening walks, quality time spent with real humans— then you’ll be shocked and delighted when one day, years of many attempts later, you brain goes, Uh, let’s read instead, the avatars make me feel like shit; No, thank you. Just like that, one day you can’t figure out what the fuck is so wrong with you that you keep staying up until 4am scrolling, scrolling, scrolling through endless streams of tik tok, tik tok, tik tok, and a year later, you can’t imagine the terror of the noise of the internet intruding on your beautiful evenings spent offline.

You can have whatever you like, and if you like, you can have beautiful evenings spent offline.