The productivity paradox: Unplug to recharge

This was originally sent out in longer form as a letter in movement making, my revolutionary dispatches from the front lines of activism. It’s been edited to be posted here.

I remember the moment that my digital life began to change. September 9, 2009.

I was traveling by train from New York City to Edison, NJ. Along the way, I was tweeting, checking my email, and uploading photos to Flickr — all from a device I held in my hand, my iPhone. I’d been always on for years, using a Palm before the iPhone even existed. The train lurched into the station, the conductor announced the doors opening through the crackling speaker, and I gathered my belongings, and disembarked the train. Took three steps. Felt my pockets. Realized they were empty. Turned around in time to watch the train doors close and the steely New Jersey Transit train begin to chug away.

A partial list of my iPhones contents

• My work and personal email accounts
• All of my bank account balances and transaction via Mint.com
• My twitter
• My facebook
• My personal photos through Flickr
• All of my business and personal contacts

You might think the feelings of leaving your iPhone on a crowded train would get better with time, you would be wrong. As the minutes and hours passed, the enormity of the situation sunk in. My concern wasn’t replacing the costly device. Rather, my concern was how much data I had entrusted to that device. And then, I realized, more than data, how much of myself I had entrusted to that device. I never imagined a time without my iPhone. Now, on September 9, 2009, staring at the empty rail track, the unfathomable became reality.

Faced with this unexpected departure of my trusted digital companion, I opted for a simple flip phone instead. For the next nine months, I went sans-smartphone. That was the beginning of my experiments with digital sabbatical.

***

Gwel Bell is holding an open interview on digital sabbaticals. Here are my responses to some of the questions.

How long were you unplugged?

I was unplugged from my iPhone for seven months, from September 2009 to May 2010. For years before that, I received notifications every time I received an email, every time someone posted on my wall, at every new @reply. Then, I had to actively log on to the social web to receive updates, I had to actively check my email to receive new data.

Over those seven months, and in the time since I readopted the iPhone (I no longer receive notifications on it though), I’ve taken complete digital mini-sabbitcals, lasting from a weekend to two weeks, where I completely unplug from the web (and often the phone). I’m pushing myself into deeper and longer sabbaticals.

What surprised you most about unplugging?

What surprised me most is what I think surprises everyone most, so perhaps it shouldn’t be a surprise: the world doesn’t end. When I log-on to check my emails because I’m no longer getting them on my phone, no one has died (my friends and family have my cell number should such a thing happen), my clients haven’t fired me (they know that I’m either busy working or busy not working and I’ll reply to their email soon), and at least one new order for a Legalize Trans* shirt is waiting to make me smile. Surprise, I didn’t receive any time-sensitive, earth-shattering email.

Logically, but perhaps still surprisingly, I found myself with more time, energy, and focus.  I could commit myself fully, no longer distracted by the buzz of smartphone. I didn’t even have a camera-phone, so there was no temptation to take a picture of the flowers in the park or record a song at the performance. I was immersed in reality with no escape.

What insights did you gain about yourself by taking a Digital Sabbatical?

I knew I could unplug from my personal digital life, but could I survive a professional digital sabbatical? Don’t my clients expect me to be always on? No, it turns out, they don’t. There were a few moments when I reminded clients that I’m not constantly connected to email, that I schedule my work in advance, that I don’t work 24/7. Those were necessary conversations to have–digital sabbatical or not–and my conscious decision to unplug helped me to realize I needed to have those conversations and gave me the vocabulary with which to have them.

When I’m not always on, I find delicious ways to spend my time: journaling; walking; dancing; practicing yoga; intentionally watching television shows, music videos, and TED talks; cooking; eating; talking on the phone with my family; face-to-facing with friends; writing; napping; dreaming.

I’ve yet to quit Facebook and I still check email more than once a day and so excess always tugs at my moderation. Facebook calls, click around some more; Wikipedia suggests, read just another article; TED invites, be inspired yet again.

I find that the temptation to remain plugged in is strong. I also find that short bursts of the social web during an extended digital sabbatical are water in a desert and that long, uninterrupted use of the social web is leaving your laptop always on: it drains the electricity and fries the screen.

Will you take another one? If yes, why? If not, why not?

Absolutely. I don’t view my digital sabbaticals as starting and ending, but rather as stacking upon themselves. Now I don’t receive emails and social web notifications on my phone but I do on the computer. Soon I will only check email once a day, perhaps I will quit Facebook all together. I don’t limit my time online, perhaps I will. Or I’ll stop watching YouTube videos. Or I’ll journal with pen and paper instead of in Notational Velocity or 750 Words.

For me, it’s about finding small things to change, changing them, and watching what happens.

###

Part two, coming Monday, is digital sabbaticals for activists, non-profits, and world changers. Enter your email address below to be notified when it is available.