Reflecting on Going 3 Days Without a Phone
Here's what I learned after a weekend of fully disconnecting, waking up without an alarm, not taking a single video, and using a watch to tell time.
In January of 2024, I made a bingo card with 24 things I wanted to accomplish throughout the year. One of them was to go a whole day without my phone. 12 months went by, and I never did it. It was one of the very few slots on my bingo card I failed to accomplish. I made a candle and I took ballet lessons and I made a basket and I went down a waterslide. But I never went the full day without a phone.
Fast forward to the beginning of this year, my new friend Julianna (of Keepsake fame) shared this idea she had been noodling on— to host a writing retreat at her family’s ancestral home, Sand Pond, in upstate New York. The property has been in her family for generations and has thousands of acres of woods, a lake, and multiple houses, one of which was built in the 1920s. Picture original wallpaper, twin beds, plaid arm chairs, floral skirted sofas, shelves filled with leather bound books, and a really long wood dining table with Windsor chairs. Oh, and a wood burning fireplace. Julianna made the writer’s retreat official, selecting Memorial Day weekend as the retreat date. I RSVPed hell-fucking-yes, and thought to myself, what a good time to finally check that last thing off my bingo card. But instead of one full day without a phone, I would do three.
Once I boarded my train to Sand Pond on that Friday, I slowly started weaning myself off of my phone. I posted one last Instagram story, then spent the 2 hour journey reading and journaling and knitting. I looked out the window at the green landscape passing me by. I barely listened to music, instead just allowing myself to sit in silence and eavesdrop on the conversations around me. I got to my destination, a small little train depot on the Delaware River, and walked out to the parking lot to find Julianna’s mom waving at me. There is something so cozy and so comforting about being picked up from a train station by a mother, even if it isn’t your own. The 20ish minute drive to the family home was spent winding through the mountains and learning about the history of Sand Pond.
We pulled up to the perfect house where Julianna was waiting by the door to welcome me. She gave me a tour of the perfect 1920s abode and led me to my bedroom, where I noticed a doll-sized wood table with two little drawers nestled next to the most perfect pink striped chair. I decided this would be the perfect hide-out for my phone. I texted my family goodbye, put the device on do-not-disturb, and tucked it away for three days straight.
Here’s How Life Looked Without a Phone
In the days that followed, life looked really different. I fully disconnected from the world and lived in this perfect little bubble, impenetrable from outside forces that usually seep into my psyche via my phone. Allow me to share some prime examples:
When I drove into town to pick up more girls from the train, and instead of using GPS, I simply followed behind Julianna. I did get lost, but only for a few minutes. I just followed the signs and context clues until I found myself back at the little train depot
I listened to Sirius XM radio. On this same drive to pick up the girls from their train, I flipped through the stations, toggling between Dave Matthews, the Goo Goo Dolls, and the like. On a normal day, I would’ve curated the perfect driving-around-the-country-side-with-the-windows-down playlist, but without a phone, I was at the mercy of the Sirius XM gods and honestly, it was a comfort. We live in a world where there are so many options and decisions and choices, and just rolling with what you are given is such a nice break.
My favorite photo from the weekend—friends making new friends during Parlor Hour I didn’t wake up to an alarm. Instead, I woke up when my body wanted to and rolled over to check my watch. My watch!! What a concept. I crept out of bed, brushed my teeth, and tip-toed down the hall, following the smell of coffee, to the living room to see which other girls were already awake.
Speaking of my watch. All weekend, I rarely knew what time it was. Nobody was waiting on me. I had nowhere to be. And when it was time for dinner or our scheduled afternoon walk, someone would simply let me know.
I stayed up way past my usual bed time, instead just letting the late night conversations by the fire consume me, instead of stressing about being in bed in time to get a full eight hours. Existing without the pressure of time for three days was a release.
I didn’t take a single video or iPhone photo. Instead, I brought my new Fuji camera and took photos of things that inspired me. I didn’t think about the content or reels or engagement or trending audio. I just sought out to capture a moment.
I think what struck me as the most shocking about going three days without my phone was how normal it felt. I felt no sense of withdrawl. I never felt myself reaching for it. I never got in bed and thought I wonder what Susie Q was up today, I wish I could watch her Instagram story. I never missed the outside world. In fact on Monday, when I opened the drawer to pull out my phone, I almost felt grossed out by it? Like having the weight of a phone back in my hand felt wrong. It felt toxic. And that’s because it is.
Instagram and TikTok have rewired our brains in this absolutely insane way I can’t explain nor do I think I am the person to do so. Something with serotonin. But going a few days without it reminded me that we have the power to stop this. We were never supposed to be this connected and this accessible. And we don’t have to be. So I am vowing to take all of these learnings with me into the future. I’m going to go phoneless way more. I’m going to spend my idle time simply thinking and being alone with my thoughts. Because not every hour of every day has to be spent doing something. I am going to sit in silence more. And you know what the other thing I learned is? When you go multiple days without sharing or updating your friends and family, the conversations that follow are way more meaningful. I found so much delight in not speaking to my mother for three days, and then calling her on Tuesday to tell her everything that happened. It was like the drive home from summer camp, where you ramble about your new friends and your new hobbies and everything that happened.
Anywho. I hope this newsletter serves as a reminder that you have control over that little device of yours. It’s not a living being that comes alive without consent. It’s a tool that we get to use how we want, when we want. Go a day without it, go two, go three. You’ll be better for it—I promise!
xo,
Claudia
What’s the camera you’re using? Pics are so lovely
Loved this so much! I would love to do this myself!