Alive, offline
Kissing whales at the edge of the modern world.
Before we begin: I had two big articles come out this month!
For Vox: I wrote about setting rejection goals to get what you want in life — and the brain science behind cultivating a rejection mindset. Thank you to the CSBC readers who took part in November of No, which makes a special appearance in this piece! (Read the full piece on archive.is.)
For the March cover story of Austin Woman magazine: I profiled Nicole Trunfio, a model, jeweler, and founder of modern maternity line Bumpsuit. My favorite detail of Nicole’s life is that she was discovered in an Australian mall at 16, won a modeling competition, and moved to New York City alone at 18 — and made it, big time.
On to today’s essay…
I’m back from one of the most fascinating trips of my life.
I spent a week on a fishing boat traveling through Mexico surrounded by whales, elephant seals, dolphins, sea turtles, endemic birds, sharks, and many more aquatic creatures. I hiked on islands where humans rarely step. I saw dozens of whales breach, spyhop, sleep, and even mate right from the deck of my ship. I KISSED two Gray Whales with mine own lips (and yes, they kissed back — spiritually). I looked into whales’ eyes, soul to soul.
And I didn’t take a single picture. (Which means none of the photos and videos here are mine — all credit and gratitude goes to my lovely shipmates.)
We boarded the Royal Polaris in San Diego on the evening of Thursday, March 6, and I turned my phone off before I went to bed. I didn’t touch it again for a week. That meant no texting, no pictures, no social media, no music, no podcasts, no Googling, no news, no email, no work at all. I did read on my Kindle sometimes, but otherwise I spent my time looking at the ocean and connecting with the people around me.
The last time I experienced life offline like this, I was probably 11. So I took the rare opportunity to totally unplug.
I noticed much more presence. I allowed myself to be bored, which in reality meant taking in the beauty around me, spending time with my own thoughts, and listening to others more. Over three days in San Ignacio Lagoon, where Gray Whales spend some down time during their migrations every year, I whiled away gleeful hours watching whales pop up all around us. I spent long hours on the deck sitting next to my mom, talking and sometimes solving crossword puzzles. In the afternoons, we played Scrabble and card games.
On hikes on San Benito and Cedros islands, I didn’t have my phone, so I wasn’t whipping it out constantly to take mediocre photos. This was so freeing! (I did know that many others around me were recording our time together, many of them with heavy-duty cameras, so that may have helped me relax into the experience, knowing I would have their mementos to rely on later.)
The biggest urge I noticed was to look up the answers to questions that popped into my head, like How long do Gray Whales live? or Where are we in Mexico right now? But I had naturalists onboard to answer many of my questions. I actually really yearned to look up the weather, as silly as that sounds. But, otherwise, I didn’t miss my phone at all — which shows me more than anything that its chief function in my life (other than communication) is to serve as a distraction tool.
In my day-to-day life in Austin, I’m usually alone, so I wasn’t sure how I’d react to being surrounded by ~45 other people on board a small ship. To my surprise, I found myself in a pristine mood the entire eight days I was aboard the ship, even through two days of rough seas as we motored down to Mexico, then back to San Diego a week later. I didn’t feel claustrophobic at all, or even crave alone time. I was curious about all of these new, friendly people around me from all walks of life, and I was happy to bask in the undivided attention of my mother. I felt more kind and patient.
Yes, it’s easy to be in a good mood when you’re in a beautiful place having a novel experience. But how much of my joy was thanks to cutting off my constant connection to screens and the hours of unnecessary stimulation they give me? I suspect that most of my bliss came from the mental freedom of severing the phantom limb that is my phone.
A few hours before we docked back in San Diego on Friday morning, I roused myself from bed at 11:20pm to witness the full lunar eclipse from the sea, along with five of my shipmates. The Blood Moon glowed a ghostly rouge. “It looks like Mars,” someone said.
Before we disembarked, we sat in the galley and shared our highlights of the trip. Looking into a whale’s eye was a life-changing experience for me, but I also shared that being surrounded by so many people who were so enthusiastic about the natural world felt so energizing. Caring is cool, and infectious. I want to fill my life with more people who are unabashedly excited about their passions in life. And I want to be one of those people.
Is someone who’s actually excited about their life content to spend three hours a day looking down at their phone?
I turned my phone service back on around 7am on Friday before we left the ship so I could gather contact info and receive AirDropped photos. I wish I could tell you I eased back into digital life, but that would be a lie. Instead, I binged the internet for the next 72 hours, jumping right back into my habits of mindless scrolling while waiting for a delayed flight back to Austin, and hours of trash TV back on my couch.
Now, I’m back in my home office, returning to a full work week, wondering how the hell I can integrate some of what I learned from my offline week into my normal life. This week was a stark reminder that there’s still a sizable gap between how I WANT to spend my waking hours and how I DO spend them.
So many of my online compulsions come from a place of “boredom” and self-avoidance. Something I’ve learned about myself as I get older is that abstinence is often far easier than moderation, so perhaps it’s time to apply that to my #1 addiction: my phone.
Here’s what I’ve come up with so far:
Turn your phone OFF on Sundays, or even between 9pm to 9am nightly. You can’t absentmindedly check a phone that’s off! Turn your laptop off, too.
Leave your phone and headphones at home for evening walks at least twice a week.
Find a new charging spot for your phone that hides it from your view when you wake up in the morning. (Right now it charges on my office desk, which keeps it out of my bedroom but makes it too tempting to look at when I wake up and open my blinds.)
Create a list of “boredom” activities, hang it on your closet door, and consult it daily. You actually don’t have to fill so many hours with TV, podcasts, social media, etc. You can journal, paint, read, work on your 2024 photo scrapbook, do yoga, go for a walk, pick up your crossword puzzle book, finally finish that cross stitch you started three years ago.
Sounds like an amazing trip! And a very timely newsletter.. I am reading The Comfort Crisis and the author talks about how nature and boredom are both so important for us.
Definitely a bucket list check off!!