I went back to work full time this week.
It’s surreal to emerge from my maternity leave cocoon only to come back to a new normal in the midst of a pandemic. I’ve been feeling anxiety leading up to the big day, and much of that was due to my online, virtual world. Too much time online, too much time in front of a screen, too much time worrying about what everyone else around me is doing, instead of focusing on my family.
So this past weekend, ahead of my triumphant return to the working world, I instituted a no electronics day in my house. It was met with a resounding ‘NOOOO’ until I laid out my plan.
On Saturday we would wake up and have a half an hour to check our phones, watch any TV we desired and alert our friends/family that we’ll be offline until 10pm that night. I was incentivizing my family through a variety of things: fun cocktails, specialty dinner items and outdoor activities in the sun.
We kicked off the day with homemade bagels (we found a killer recipe from Simply Scratch that we made using the air fryer), fresh lox, veggie cream cheese and scallions. After that, Phil and my Dad began work for our patio, we checked on our home garden and took the baby for a walk in the neighborhood. We BBQ’d hot dogs and had fresh salad for lunch and finished the evening with a gluten-free veggie and chicken lasagna.
I learned a few things during my period off line.
One is that it feels really good. While we think these smartphones connect us; in a way they imprison us. We’re constantly checking, worrying we’re missing something. But when it comes down to it, the conversations are short and usually lacking substance. We may be connected, but somehow it feels fake.
Second is that I forgot how much I love magazines. I keep reading that most people bring their phones into the bathroom with them, and I have to say, I’ve been guilty of that myself. No more. I have stocked my bathroom with good old-fashioned magazines and books. If I happen to spend quality time there, I’m actually reading something printed on paper.
Third is that we keep living our lives through a video screen. Here I am raising a beautiful little child and while I may be snapping a photo of a laugh or her first giggle, am I actually experiencing it? Nothing can replace our own real memories and when you see something happen through a phone instead of with your own two eyes, it isn’t something imprinted in your memory for as long as it should be. I watched my daughter play and it was magical. And now it’ll be a memory I (hopefully) have forever.
Fourth is that it feels really freeing. My creativity wasn’t stifled. I was able to let my mind wander. I took time in the shower to daydream (and I don’t remember the last time I did that). And I stopped worrying about what everyone is doing. I know social media plays its part, and I use it too, but I’m so sick of looking at someone on Instagram and feeling less than because of it. I try not to, but it happens subconsciously despite my best efforts. It’s exhausting keeping up with these damn Jones’. My life is full and wonderful in its own weird way and constantly comparing myself to others is just destructive.
Fifth was that I appreciated everyone in my family more. Part of me was afraid that I would get snippy with Phil or yell at my parents for putting a dish back in the wrong place, but instead I was more engaged with everyone and less on edge. I actually spoke to them, looked them in the face and didn’t HALF LISTEN when we spoke to each other. We’re all so guilty of that and deep down it’s unfair and insulting to the people we speak to.
I know this virtual world is our new normal for now and working from home may arguably have me connected more so now than I ever was before. But no one can force me to check in on the weekends or evenings. I’m going to keep on taking days off here and there.
I don’t need to be on my phone all the time. I need to live this precious life to the extent that I can during a very scary time. And if I do distance myself from virtual overload, it’ll help me appreciate virtual interactions when I’m meant to, because after all, they still have their place.