Substack, email lists, ever-flashier websites.
I’ve grown tired.
And the symptoms of my weariness extend beyond work-related things and into personal living. Being connected 24/7, having instant access to anything and everything — it all has led to a kind of deep exhaustion. It’s not just the endless notifications. It’s the erosion of presence in the real world.
I catch myself scrolling through feeds during what should be quiet moments. It’s as if having a minute of peace is somehow anathema, when in fact it is what I secretly crave… and yet for some reason resist.
I find myself yearning for simpler — even if more inconvenient — times. (Remember when “downtime” actually meant time… down? No pings, no algorithms feeding you the next dopamine hit?)
But… A Blog?
Yes, the blog as a medium is supposed to be dead (and it very well may be), but loading up this simple, pared-down, classic WordPress template brought me a surprising level of satisfaction. Just words on a page. Maybe a picture. It’s like rediscovering the joy of a handwritten letter over a rushed email — slower, for sure, but way more meaningful. (We should probably start writing letters again.)
I have no intention of becoming a Luddite (using the term in its currently popular definition), and technology not only fascinates me but is essential to work efforts. Yet there is still something to be said for having access to an “off” switch, one that you can toggle at will.
The freedom in that is immense.
And it’s not about rejecting progress. It’s about reclaiming myself.
Not all that long ago, it seems, TV shows aired one episode per week — there was no such thing as “binging” on them, unless you bought the DVD set at the end of the run. That anticipation built community. You could discuss the latest plot twist at work or with friends the next day, not spoil it instantly via social media.
And if you wanted anything other than pizza or Chinese food for dinner, you had to get in your car and go get it. Same with groceries. Same with everything else (delivery culture is out of control).
And It’s Not Just Me
This shift isn’t just personal. It’s also cultural. Studies on digital overload show rising rates of anxiety and burnout, especially among younger generations who’ve never known a world without smartphones(!). Sure, we’re wired for novelty. But constant stimulation is destroying what makes us human, and is eroding our ability to enjoy being human.
So I have taken steps in my personal life to pump the brakes. Delivery services cancelled and more errands run on my own. Streaming services cancelled or scaled back. Investing more in media I can hold in my hands (and truly own). Purchasing an analog watch so I can check the time without pulling out my phone and staring at it like some dumb ol’ monkey and almost always getting sucked into some algorithm that does not have my best interest at heart (even if it had one).
I’ve revived old habits like reading physical books unconnected from the internet. I’m enforcing some pretty strict screen time limits on the younger people in the house. The children claim to hate that, of course, but once we push through the complaining, the dividends are increased use of imagination and improved social behaviors.
Of course, this isn’t a full retreat; I’m still typing this on a computer, after all. But it’s an effort at balance. I make no promises about the future of this blog, as I certainly don’t need yet another techy master to rear its ugly head. But I am looking forward to whatever happens with it — if anything.
If nothing else, it’s place I can share thoughts, books, and ideas without being tied into some sort of weird ecosystem that gamifies… well, everything.
This could be fun!