Sometimes, we just have to get away. Especially now, when it’s almost impossible to disconnect from work, to get space in our day for quiet, to have a moment where there is nothing left on the to-do list and we can allow our minds to reset. Even if we do step out for a walk, or escape to a hotel for a writing binge, we always have our phones. Which means that every friend, family member, boss, client, and work colleague comes with us. They often join us in the bathroom. Not to mention notifications from complete strangers on social media. Just imagine what it would look like if all those people were physically there, crowding around you as you tried to write. When was the last time you were truly alone? With no way for anyone or anything to intrude on your thoughts? It’s easier to remove ourselves from real people than it is from our endless virtual networks. I used to just muddle through. But as I’ve become more aware of how the overstimulation taxes my neurons, I’ve learned that it’s my responsibility to carve out time to step away, take a breath, and let the dust settle. Only then am I still enough to hear my own creative intuition. I show up better for my writing, as well as for my work, family, and social life. I’m sharing this because, honestly, I’m at critical mass. My family is wonderful, but this is a very active household, and with work and writing, it’s a lot. My job as a digital marketing specialist means I am online all day, every day. I’ve learned the signs that I need a break— feeling impatient, frazzled, overwhelmed, and blocked. The brain drain is poison to creativity, and the stress influences everyone and everything around me. My experience with digital burn-out inspired my novella, Popsicle, where the effects of internet overload end up with extreme consequences. So for the next two weeks, I’ve planned a sabbatical. I’ll be alone — well, not totally alone. I’ll be with dogs, which is honestly the best company. My trick is booking nearby getaways on a pet-sitting app. I get a place to myself, and the owner gets someone to spoil their furbabies. Win-win. I know we can’t always take off and leave our responsibilities behind, but even micro-getaways help. You can hide in a quiet corner at the local library. Put on headphones and lock yourself in a closet. Go to a park and wander around without a purpose. Sometimes I get into my car and drive to a nearby parking lot just to be in silence. The crucial thing is to turn off your phone. Leave it at home, if you can. Not only do notifications interrupt you, the mere anticipation of getting messages puts you in a constant low-level alert mode. This steals bandwidth from your creative potential. Notice how it feels to remove the possibility of being interrupted—to release the urge to send pictures, check email, or Google whatever random question comes into your mind. Yes, it’s an uneasy feeling to be untethered. But it’s so incredibly freeing. Now, I ask you—what could you do to plan a small pocket of solitude?
*******
P.S. Speaking of things worth your time—our short story contest is open for submissions, and we’re now accepting nonfiction essays on writing and creativity for publication on this blog. All the details are on our submissions page. We’d love to read your work.
|
