Life Offline
Ivy Griffin
Life Offline: How It May Help Our Mental Health
As an older millennial I find myself reminiscing a lot about the “before times”. Life before smart phones, before social media, before AI. I was one of the lucky ones to experience a teenhood and young adulthood smart phone free until I was about 25 years old. I often wonder if time moved so slowly back then because I was just a kid growing up in a small town where nothing ever happened. Or if it’s because now I'm middle aged and one year of my life is a tiny increment in proportion to the 40+ I’ve lived, versus when I was 12 and a year felt like a lifetime. Or if it’s because now the world around us is moving so fast. Thanks to smart phones and immediacy culture, almost anything we want is accessible with the tap of a button, we barely have to wait and we no longer get to lose ourselves in the moment without a notification ding pulling us right out of it.
In the 90s, if I wanted to connect with an old friend I’d have to get on the telephone, risk the awkward moment of making small talk — “Hi Mrs. So and So is Jenny home? … Oh she’s not? OK i’ll leave a message” — and then I would wait. Another option of course was to write a hand written letter, a creative feat in and of itself. Pen choice was intentional, each paragraph thoughtfully color coordinated to communicate the mood. And again, I would wait. Wait for the letter to finally arrive in the hands of my friend and then wait even longer for a response. We’d listen to the radio, hoping and waiting they would play our favorite song to perfectly complete our summer mixtape. Wait for that new CD to come out at Tower Records and then wait to save up enough money to buy it. We’d wait all day just to see that one music video on MTV, or watch our favorite show that one night a week, and of course negotiate with our siblings for screen time, or endure the family affair of us all watching something together.
When we wanted to learn about something or know the answer to a burning question our parents would say “look it up” and by that they meant in a book, at the library. If we wanted to go anywhere that we were unfamiliar with we’d use a paper map, undoubtedly get lost and then find our way. More waiting, searching, confronting small setbacks and persisting. And in each of these seemingly mundane processes there were interactions, connections and sensory experiences to be had. The tactile experience of pressing actual buttons or turning the dial on the rotary phone, feeling the paper pages of a book or a handwritten letter in your hands, the smell of the library, the perfect pen pressing on the paper, the fuzz and crackle of the radio. That moment of connection with a friend’s parent, problem solving and sharing with our siblings, enduring a commercial break and surrendering to the radio DJ.
Getting lost in the abyss of boredom and suddenly finding creativity and adventure help us connect with others and also with ourselves. And while these things seem like minor inconveniences in today’s modern world, I think they all provided us with something invaluable. We learned to practice patience, to wait, to tolerate discomfort, to transform boredom and practice acceptance. We learned to share with each other, to listen and respect other’s time, to compromise. With the advanced technology of our smart phones we barely need to leave our house, we don’t have to negotiate what to listen to or watch because we all have our own personal devices, We never have to experience boredom, we create worlds out of our own echo chambers, never having to risk discomfort or the frustration of waiting or tolerate something that isn’t exactly our cup of tea. The moment anything becomes uncomfortable or boring we escape into our phones, disassociate from the present moment and from ourselves. We numb ourselves and we avoid. But numbing isn't healing and scrolling isn’t living.
There's a new trend of Luddite clubs amongst teens and college students. And I think these kids are on to something. Retro has of course always been cool. I remember the Dazed and Confused obsession of my teen years, all of us paying homage to some 70’s vintage fashion and muscle cars. But I think maybe these clubs might have the special sauce for daily living that can help us be more present with ourselves and each other. They can help us experience actual authentic connection. Participants of luddite clubs have abandoned the smart phone and connect over offline activities such as board games, listening to vinyl, making art, baking, sharing stories, reading actual books, gardening, making music, making mixtapes, spending time outdoors. The list could go on and on. Not only can these be enjoyable activities but the connection they facilitate can also help us manage our mental health.
These activities support us in being present in the moment without getting puled into other distractions of the screen. They can help us focus on the task and relationship at hand, rather than focus on somebody somewhere else. They help us check in with ourselves, ask ourselves what we are in the mood for and support us in engaging in activities and interests that are reflections of ourselves, helping us to develop our sense of self and build a culture around us. These activities also provides us the opportunity to focus on whats within our control. When we are scrolling our phones we are confronted with information and imagery that we have no consent over and no control over. Hours of scrolling can cause us to feel powerless in our own lives. Engaging in offline activities, hobbies interests, and passions supports us in meeting our various needs. Not just our needs for survival but our needs for connection, our creative needs, our spiritual needs, our generative needs, our physical needs. These activities offer us challenges and the opportunity to experience a sense of mastery and sometimes even a sense of purpose. through engaging in these experiences we develop strengths and confidence that support us in facing the unknown, practicing spontaneity and even answering the call to adventure. When we take a break from scrolling our phones we are given the opportunity to create life for ourselves.
Obviously, smart phones offer tools of convenience that can make parts of life much easier, and in today’s quick-paced world it can feel nearly impossible to live without these devices completely. But it can be supportive to our mental health to take a break from time to time. Even structuring in some short increments of offline time during our morning routine each day, or committing to daily offline activities throughout the week can be a powerful self care practice. Taking a break from apps by deleting them, putting the phone away in drawer for a couple of hours, or even powering down throughout different moments of the day can al be helpful ways to detach from the digital world and reconnect with yourself. If you’ve been feeling anxious, detached, or emotionally blunted it can be hell to ask yourself, “What is my relationship with my phone like?”, “What is my relationship with myself like?”. These questions may help with what you need to feel better, to feel embodied and to feel connected to yourself and the living world around you.
Unsure where to start? Here is a list of ideas for offline activities:
Take a walk
Go on a hike
Go to a museum
Listen to an album from start to finish
Bake
Garden
Paint
Draw
Sculpt
Make a zine
Write a poem
Write a short story
Write a letter to a friend
Make origami
Sing
Learn to play an instrument
Play music with friends
Collage
Paper mache
Make a diorama
Cook
Play cards
Play a board game
Take pictures
Make a terrarium
Play a sport
Dance
Bike ride
Sew
Try out or observe an improv theater show
Watch live music
Visit a local farm
Play with your kids
Charades
Mad libs
… this is a list to help get things started but not exhaustive. Is there anything you would add?
Best,
Licensed Marriage and Family Therapist, Clinical Supervisor
she/her