Disconnection notice. (Turn off the lights now.)

dis·con·nect

\ ˌdis-kə-ˈnekt \

transitive verb

1 : to sever the connection of or between

2 : dissociate · "are disconnected from meaningful relationships"

intransitive verb

1 : to terminate a connection

2 : to become detached or withdrawn · "disconnects into dark moods"

Around the same time last year, I deactivated all my social media accounts for a whole month. To most, this idea may seem silly (downright stupid, even) given the fact that practically everything happening around one's own universe now involves some form of social media. Whose birthday is it today? Facebook will help you remember. What's going on with the world lately? Twitter has the breaking news covered. What are your friends up to? Look no further than their Instagram stories and Snaps. There is no reason, really, for you to be ignorant or indifferent in this "golden age" of information and technology. That being said, I still willingly chose to go dark and disconnect — a choice I make again today.

Why then? Why now? A few things come to mind:

First of all, my birthday's coming up again. As the prospect of surviving the scare of membership in The 27 Club (pending any life-ending casualty between now and the 2nd of October) nears becoming a reality, I thought it best to take this time to do some reflecting — on the year that passed, and on my life so far — and for it to have any meaningful result, I need to cut out all distractions so my focus can be devoted to this effort. It's never easy to contemplate about life, death, or the things in between, but I think what makes it hard is the fact that we get so caught up going through the usual motions that we forget to hit pause and take a second to collect our thoughts. And it's only after something tragic happens, when a giant monkey-wrench gets thrown in the gears that make up the cycles of our everyday lives, when we'll have no choice but to come face-to-face with where we are in the cosmos and what will become of us moving forward. I don't know about you, but I'd rather take the preemptive route on this one; I would hate to be forced into this exercise by a massive, massive crisis.

Secondly: I'm also of the opinion that a digital detox every now and then is beneficial to one's holistic well-being. Sure, these days social media has been nothing short of helpful, if not to stay in touch with family and friends then at least to leisurely pass the time. But often, as with all things pleasurable to us, it tends to get addictive. Before we know it we would've spent minute after minute mindlessly scrolling through our multiple feeds with no end in sight, and eventually we find ourselves going down a rabbit hole of games and links and memes and quotes and videos that soon we forget why we were online in the first place. Some might argue, "Well, do you really need a reason to be online?" Okay, maybe you don't. When it eats up a huge chunk of your entire day, however, that's a problem; and I'm not just talking about that one solid, uninterrupted period of time in a day that you're online. I mean ALL the other times in between, as well: from the time you wake up, to your commute going to school/work, to your breaks, to your commute back home, up until you kill the lights in your room and go to sleep — if you decide to sleep at all, that is. Do the math and if you find that you've spent a third of your day (possibly more) in front of a screen, which is pretty much half the time you're awake, then you, my friend, just might need a digital detox yourself.

 

Thirdly: I want my time back, quite frankly. There's a lot I've been putting off lately that I can't find the time anymore to actually start them, and I blame it partly on my time online. I have a number of things off the top of my head that I wish to write about, apart from all the unfinished drafts on my Blogger still awaiting completion. My backlog of books has been piling up again, and this includes books that were bought, borrowed, and given as gifts. A couple of major activities are coming up soon that I need to prepare for, either by taking care of the necessary logistics (buying plane tickets, reserving hotel rooms, filing vacation leaves, etc.) or by committing to memory (i.e. learning AND memorizing) the parts I will have a hand in. This is not to say I dislike having downtime, or I don't enjoy moments where I can just chill and do absolutely nothing — sure I do! But part of me also takes delight in that sense of accomplishment, of getting stuff done and crossing things off my list. It provides this pat-on-the-back, gratifying feeling knowing you've managed your time effectively and used it productively. Now, who wouldn't want that?

Going back to that word — "detox". Using it to describe my current situation would imply that there is something toxic I should immediately cleanse from my system before I get destroyed by it. This brings me to my last point: as much as I try my hardest not to let things get under my skin, there are a few that, admittedly, have gotten to me. And as someone who has become more considerate of his mental and psychological health, it's gotten to me in a way that, if I do not act soon, it could quite possibly compromise my peace of mind. See, I come across a lot of stuff on my feeds every day, some of which I'd actually bother to look into and most others I wouldn't give a second thought. But a number of things — some public, some private — are just inexplicably and undeniably upsetting (to me, at least) that I need to distance myself from the negativity before I say or do something I'll regret later on. Now, granted, this plan of action does not guarantee that the upsetting things will just magically disappear once you walk away. In addition, different people react to different things differently, and perhaps the simpler solution to this dilemma is not self-quarantine but rather to begin accepting one's present reality and just have thicker skin. Both are valid counterpoints, and maybe that day will come in the not-too-distant future that I'll be better equipped to deal with the bad vibes. For now, though, I'm content with coping this way, with closing myself up and calling in the "exterminators" to drive the bugs, pests and rodents out.

What are these "exterminators"? I thought I'd go about this month-long hiatus with one guiding principle: I need fewer reasons to look at my phone. So I disabled the always-on display, which normally lets me know what time it is, and bought a slick, sophisticated-looking analog watch to do the job. I hid all the social media apps from the home screen and from the apps menu itself. By some fortunate (although random) coincidence, my laptop recently needed repairing as well, and as of this writing it sits securely in a Daly City computer shop awaiting pickup. (I have the option of leaving it there until the end of the month, too, but that probably isn't a brilliant move. I mean, I could just not turn on my laptop, right?) As soon as I finish this post, which I'm currently typing away using the Google Keep app on my phone, I will begin using one of my old, barely-written-on notebooks for all my writing. The backlog of books is at my disposal should I ever find myself with nothing to do, and I can start clearing it one book at a time. The rest of my idle time will be devoted to prayer, as well as preparations for the aforementioned major activities.

I'm not exactly sure how this entire month will play out. There's a whole host of things I'm probably going to miss out, too, because I just won't know about them — a LOT can happen in 30 days, you know — and that's gonna suck. On the flipside, though, I'm curious to see what fascinating insights I end up discovering during this time I'll spend offline. I can't wait.

In the meantime, it's getting late. I should probably heed Ely Buendia's advice right about now...

Take it away, Pupil: