Blog is moving!

Hi all,

With *extensive* help from Andrew Willett, I have created a new website for Tech-free Day, and have decided to blog from that site instead of this one.

So, for any and all posts after May 4, please visit www.techfreeday.org.

See you on the other side...

Family Tech-free Day: The Second Attempt

The Universe is toying with me. Our family technology-free days never turn out the way I envision them. This time, I had it all planned out for April 24th. A Saturday, so that I could connect with my Jewish friends who observe Shabbat. A simple set of rules: no laptops, no cell phones, just to keep things easy.

It started out rather well. We ended up visiting a potential pre-school in the early evening on Friday, but managed to get back home with a half hour to spare before the sun set. Still, in the spirit of the thing, I decided not to use the cell phone, and not to do any work to prepare dinner. So I walked down to our local BBQ joint and waited at the bar while they prepared our meal. Ok, so I watched the Giants game on television while I was waiting. But it was communal! It was on when I walked in the door! And the Giants were WINNING!

Anyway, back at home, my dear husband had prepared a lovely candle-lit table for us after feeding and putting our son to bed (yes, I am nominating him for the Husband of the Year award). We had a lovely meal that evolved into an intimate, animated discussion about where we wanted to be in five years, that unfortunately DE-volved into a nasty fight about where we wanted to be in our immediate future. So, on the positive side, instead of watching yet another episode of Lost on the laptop, we had an important, soul-baring discussion. On the negative, the vibe was kind of ruined by the argument.

Ah, well, on to the main event – a whole day of enjoying friends, nature, and each other. We had yet another birthday party to attend on Saturday, and I had cleverly remembered to print out the directions from the Evite. Too bad I printed out the directions from our house, instead of the Farmer's Market. It was fun to be at the Farmer's Market as a family (I usually go by myself), but buying all of our vegetables in 10 minutes because we were late to the party and had to backtrack to find the place...not so fun. And definitely not part of the theme of slowing down and enjoying life. On top of that, I forgot the birthday present, and somehow never managed to eat breakfast. Next time, I think I'm getting rid of the clock again, and avoiding any plans that require us to look at a clock.

The birthday party was, of course, a lot of fun, and we got to mingle with friends that we see often, and friends that we haven't seen in a while. And we did get to lounge around afterwards, while our son napped. We even got to enjoy a hike in Glen Canyon Park in the afternoon, and anyone who has ever hiked with a toddler will know that we definitely slowed down for that.

I had sent out a last-minute invite to a few friends to join us for an open house dinner sort of gathering in the evening, but the response was tepid and nobody ended up joining us. Just as well, because by late afternoon I had developed the dreaded Tech-free Day Fever. Martin had it last time, this time it was my turn to be floored by aches and chills that had me in bed by 8pm for the next 24 hours.

I wonder if our bodies are just leaping at the chance to do nothing and make sure of it by forcing us to lie down and suffer through an illness whenever I propose a tech-free day. At any rate, we made up for the time with friends by hosting a spontaneous dinner party on the following Saturday evening that was exactly what I envisioned.

Next time, I'm going to do a little more advance planning and try a little harder to recruit people to join me if not in person, then in spirit. Actually, next time we are going to be in the woods with good friends for 48 hours of nothing that plugs in. It should be fun to see one of the guys who designed the iPad try and live without his iPhone for the weekend.

In other news, plans are moving forward for the Main Event – Tech-free Day San Francisco on June 26. I'll be moving this blog to the new Tech-free Day website next week. Details to come.

Connecting Without the Internet

A flurry of short and long trips have kept me from setting a date for our family's next Technology-free Day, but I am thinking Saturday April 24 might be as good a time as any. We are definitely due to unplug -- I'm embarrassed to admit how many of our date nights lately have been accompanied by NetFlix. Who knew "Lost" could really be so compelling?

In an effort to inspire myself and hopefully others, here are five ideas for a fun, technology-free date night:

1) Arts and Crafts. Channel your inner kindergartener and pick something messy that you haven't done since you were five. This past week I made Easter egg baskets out of papier mache and dyed eggs to go inside them. If you are feeling more ambitious, why not try making a Pinhole Camera together?

2) Cook dinner together. Pick out a menu that matches your culinary skill level and spend the evening chopping, sauteeing, and garnishing together. With the right equipment, even making sushi at home is much easier than you might think.

3) Don't cook. Pick up a picnic. There is nothing more romantic than relaxing on a picnic blanket with finger food, a bottle of wine, and a beautiful view. Or, if April showers are ruining your picnic plans, take it inside in front of the fire place.

4) Play a board game. Sequence is our current favorite, but if you want to make it a double or triple date, a get-to-know-you game like Loaded Questions is sure to generate a lot of laughter and a new perspective on some of your friends.

5) Read aloud to each other. A happy couple I know swears that doing this every night is what keeps their marriage going. Choose whatever you enjoy, whether it be love poems, a short story, or the latest issue of The New Yorker. Read out loud. Discuss.

I'm delving into some reading of my own: "The Sabbath World: Glimpses of a Different Order of Time" by Judith Shulevitz. From the inside flap: "In this erudite, elegantly written book, critic Judith Shulevitz weaves together histories of the Jewish and Christian sabbaths, speculations on the nature of time, and a rueful account of her personal struggle with the day." Intrigued? I sure was when I heard Terry Gross interview her. I'll review it in my next blog post.

“Unplugging” in the Media

The backlash is gaining momentum. I am hearing more and more about people who are fed up with information overload and the burden of being constantly connected. Reboot, the organization that I linked to a few posts ago who created the Sabbath Manifesto, launched the first National Day of Unplugging today. They invited everyone to "put down the cell phone, stop the status updates on Facebook, shut down Twitter, sign out of e-mail and relax." Aimed at Jewish professionals who are interested in re-inventing the Sabbath, this is exactly the kind of movement that people all over the United States can benefit from, regardless of religious affiliation.

Strategic Trend and Marketing Consultant Wendy Dembo is noticing activity of this kind on both coasts. She pointed out that The New York Times is talking (watch the video!) about Reboot's project. And another article about the National Day of Unplugging appears in the style section of that newspaper. It's a new lifestyle!

Employers are taking notice as well. The March issue of Entrepreneur magazine published an article called "Email is making you stupid" that reveals "The average information worker – basically anyone at a desk – loses 2.1 hours of productivity every day to interruptions and distractions." People's brains just are not built for the kind of multi-tasking that has become commonplace. The article also cites examples of companies who are working to change this: "Companies including U.S. Cellular and Deloitte & Touche have mandated less e-mail use, encouraged more face-to-face contact and experimented with programs such as 'no e-mail Friday'. The results often are surprising: employees build rapport with colleagues – and they save time. Co-workers can settle something in a two-minute phone conversation that might have required three e-mails per person." Surprise!

I hope to see more and more about this in the media, and if I'm not seeing it, I'll make some news of my own. National Tech-free Day will be the next full-moon Saturday, on June 26. In the mean time, I will be planning some smaller tech-free events over the next few months. Join me!

Here Now

When my husband Martin was last up in Nevada City, he spotted a great bumper sticker. Along the lines of “I'd rather be fishing” or “I'd rather be golfing”, this one stated: “I'd rather be here now.” As in, not with the person on the other side of this cell phone or (god forbid!) text conversation, but right here, in this car, just driving. That's my beef with all the people sitting in cafes with their laptops or walking across the street, talking on their cell phones. They aren't where they look like they are. Their bodies are there, but their brains and attention are far away.

This past Sunday, my intention was to be Here Now with my family for 24 hours. No computers, no cell phones. I took it a few steps farther and eliminated cars (the better to keep us Here) and clocks because, well, as I discussed in my last post, I am a slave to the clock and that aspect of our technology-free day was really the only thing I was worried about.

So, you might be wondering, did we enjoy a weekend of familial bliss? Did we sit around, tell stories, get to know each other better? Did we spend time walking up on the hill that is our backyard and fly kites, munch on a picnic, watch the sun setting over the fog bank? Well, no. We did not, strictly speaking, break any of the “rules” but we also did not spend that time away from technology getting any closer to my goal of social intimacy and heeding our natural rhythms.

We were hit by two gigantic and unexpected obstacles that thwarted our plans. One, Martin ended up “on call” at work for the final push of a big product launch at his start-up. He wants to keep his job, so we couldn't really be unreachable. Second, my entire family came down with an awful stuffed up, coughing, miserable, feverish illness. Martin found a great workaround to avoid clocks, but still take aspirin and cough medicine every four hours – a timer!

So, from the very beginning, none of the 24 hours went according to my plan, but it was certainly a relaxing day. My original vision for Saturday night was to sit on our deck with a glass of wine and watch the sun set behind Sutro Tower with my little family as a sort of opening ritual. Instead the day went out with a flurry of text messaging to coordinate a meet-up with friends at the local pizza parlor. It was toddler mayhem with three little ones and only four adults, but who needs technology if you have good friends and a couple of beers? Social intimacy? Heck yeah! On our walk home, we watched an enormous almost-full moon rise over Bernal Hill and that really was a spiritual moment. Connection with nature? Check!

Next stop in my fantasy of a technology-free evening was supposed to be lying in bed with my husband and having a deep conversation about our hopes and dreams. Instead, Martin had to go to work so I read a magazine until I fell asleep at what I am sure was an hour so early that I never would have let myself close my eyes if I had known what time it actually was. Paying attention to my natural rhythm never felt so good.

The next morning we were all really sick, and it was an easy decision to blow off the birthday party. My dream of walking up to Bernal Hill and flying a kite after a nice picnic was replaced by lying on the couch and eating random things whenever we felt hungry. Martin mostly worked and napped. Peter napped. I fumed about not having things go my way and not being able to pick up the phone and complain about it. I missed my friends. I was deeply disappointed. I started trying to figure out how many hours we had left in the day.

Finally, as the day drew to a close, I got my wish of sitting on the deck and watching the sun set. So what if we were drinking hot tea instead of a glass of wine? After it was officially dark, I turned on the cell phone and walked over to a friend's house who had been borrowing my laptop. We sat in her dining room and watched the now-full moon rise over the neighbor's fence. It was magical.

Slave to the Clock

I am gearing up for our first Tech-free Day without computers, phones, cars, and clocks this Sunday, and I am both excited and fearful that I am woefully unprepared. What will we DO with a whole day and evening of free time and no way of looking things up on the internet or connecting with friends? I am just hoping to wing it and follow our intuition or our bliss, or whatever strikes our fancy. Food, always my main concern, shouldn't be a problem since for this day, cooking is ok and so is take-out. We just can't use the phone to call and order it.

My biggest worry has actually been our one fixed plan – a birthday party that runs from 10:30am to 1:00pm on Sunday. I now have a better understanding of the difficulty of observing a Sabbath in a world and a community that is on a different schedule and plan. I have been worrying for a week now about how we will get to the party on time without a clock to guide us. I even made a point of checking out how the sun comes in the window at 10:30am, in hopes of timing our departure that way. Paying closer attention to the natural world (the sun) is a good thing, so I don't think it's cheating. And spending time with friends is definitely in the spirit of this experiment, so we are going to make an effort to get to the party. We just might be a little late. Or early. And I have to remember to look up the address on the Evite before Saturday at sunset. Paper invitations are a rarity these days.

I am starting to realize what a slave I am to the clock, especially with a little one who thrives on structure and consistency. My son, Peter, needs to have breakfast by 8:30. He has lunch at 12:00 and goes down for a nap at 1:00. He needs to nap for at least an hour, so if he calls out before 2:00, I encourage him to stay in his crib for at least a little longer. He has dinner at 6:00, so if he asks for a snack after 5:00, I try and keep it light, or give him an early dinner if he is really hungry. He has his bath at 6:30 so that he can be in bed by 7:00 each evening. With all of these checkpoints, I am constantly looking at my watch to see if it is “time” for him to eat or sleep. In a sense, it feels a bit like lazy parenting – I rely on the clock to tell me what he needs instead of looking to him for signs of hunger and sleepiness.

So what if I just let him guide me for a day regarding his needs for food and sleep? Would that be so bad? Sure, he might subsist on rice cakes for a few meals if he fills up on “snack” too close to dinner. He might get to stay up a bit later that usual. That's really the worst that could happen. And on the positive side, my maternal instincts will get a workout as I pay close attention to him to see what he needs in a given moment instead of just going by the clock. Luckily he is starting to talk a bit more, so I can always ask him if he is hungry or needs to sleep. I think I'm getting closer to my goal of familial intimacy, I just hope I don't alienate my friends by showing up for their party at 8:30 in the morning...

By the way, I have adjusted the security settings on my Comments to make it a little easier for you all to post. What do you think? Do you think it is beneficial or even possible to disengage from our attachment to timekeepers in a society that functions "by the clock"?

Shmirat Shabbat: A Day of Rest

I needed some encouragement in anticipation of my first technology-free day, and so I turned to people who do without technology on a weekly basis, and have been doing it for thousands of years already. Jews have traditionally reserved the time from sundown on Fridays to sundown on Saturdays as a period of rest. No work, no driving, no chores, and especially no internet. Just eating and hanging out with friends and family. A real break from the work week. It's called Shmirat Shabbat. Abraham Joshua Heschel, theologian and author of “The Sabbath: Its Meaning for Modern Man” calls the Sabbath a “palace in time”: “The meaning of the Sabbath is to celebrate time rather than space. Six days a week we live under the tyranny of things of space; on the Sabbath we try to become attuned to holiness in time. It is a day on which we ... turn from the results of creation to the mystery of creation.”

Leaving behind the *stuff* that our lives become cluttered with (the results of creation) and using the time to examine what we believe (the mystery of creation) sounds noble and philosophical. But what does this mean in concrete terms? Heschel again: “To set apart one day a week for freedom, a day on which we would not use the instruments which have been so easily turned into weapons of destruction, a day for being with ourselves, a day of detachment from the vulgar, of independence of external obligations, a day on which we stop worshipping the idols of technical civilization ... is there any institution that holds out a greater hope for man's progress than the Sabbath?”

So “weapons of destruction” sounds a bit extreme, but “worshipping the idols of technical civilization” is right on target if you have ever observed a new iPhone owner at close range. And can you believe he wrote that in 1951, before the iPhone was even a twinkle in Steve Jobs' eye? At any rate, I wanted to find out how “Shomer Shabbat” is actually observed, if at all, in the modern world, and what kind of effect it has on the lives of the observers. Is it an antiquated ritual whose myriad restrictions modern Jews find oppressive? Or is it an indispensable way for people to re-connect with their families, friends, and even their own souls on a weekly basis?

For Ronit Frank, a stay-at-home mother of a happy 5-month-old baby girl, it is both. Frank grew up in Israel, where she had “the best childhood ever,” partially because the whole community where she lived kept Shabbat. “I have a deep memory of it being something fantastic as a kid, but as I grew older it was more like 'been there, done that'.” Frank recalls Shabbat during her childhood as “magical. It was our time to stop everything and relax and enjoy family and sit around and talk.” But along with adulthood came a different perspective. “As I grew older,” says Frank, “I didn't accept the explanation of why we don't do certain things. ... I wanted to go to the beach and I needed a car. It was kind of depressing not being able to go anywhere and do all this stuff.” She lives in a suburb of the San Francisco Bay Area now, where life without a car is, for many, unthinkable.

America's love affair with the automobile is well documented, and many Americans depend on their cars to get everywhere. Is there a benefit beyond environmental reasons for staying out of your car for a day? Like, Ronit Frank, Jen Friedman lives in the suburbs of the San Francisco Bay Area. She observes Shabbat regularly, and she is also tempted by the freedom of the automobile: “Some days it would be much more fun to get in the car.” But for her, the trade-off is worth it. She has observed Shabbat her whole life, with no plans to change: “It lets you rest and lets your soul rest. It's just you and your family and god. There's not technology or work to get in the way.” Emily Shapiro Katz, a San Francisco mother of two who observes Shabbat, thinks not driving is the whole point: “The not driving on Shabbat thing is brilliant. That is what defines close-knit Jewish communities because you have to live near each other. That was the great downfall in the 50s of suburban sprawl that destroyed communal intimacy. Shabbat-observant communities still have that because you have to live close to each other.”

Building intimacy within families and communities is perhaps the biggest reason I want people to take a break from technology. In stark contrast to how most people view technology – as a time saver and communication enabler – I believe that technology often actually gets in the way of communication. It's a distraction, another layer between two people. Jen Friedman looks forward to Shabbat because there is nothing to get in the way of thinking and communicating: “Without distractions, your mind can actually work. You have time to read, to think, to talk.” Ronit Frank also remembers Shabbat as a time when people enjoyed being together and having real conversations: “Nobody was watching TV, people actually talked to each other, and got into depth of the subject. We were actually meeting up with each other, we had no other option. I remember having fun, really enjoying my parents because they were not working, they were not busy. My mom was not ironing or cleaning, she was just there. It was pure joy.”

This connection between parent and child is an explanation that I heard over and over again for why people still observe Shabbat in modern society. Elana Bernstein Storch is a Practice Administrator for a cardiology practice in Phoenix, Arizona and a busy mother of four who sees Shabbat as “a gift”. Like Friedman, she has been observing Shabbat her entire life: “I have a tremendous quality of life. No to do list. No errands. It's very important to take time out from your week for reflection and have the time with your children. ... Some friends don't observe the Sabbath, they go to the movies or whatever. I really feel like they are missing out.” Ronit Frank's sister felt like she was missing out on the family closeness of her childhood by not keeping Shabbat. Frank told me how her sister has decided to give Shabbat another try: “Now she is married and she is going back. She feels that it brings the family more together and keeps it whole. She says: 'If I did not keep Shabbat, I would not be able to talk to my son or do anything with him.'” For these women, giving up driving or watching TV is a small price to pay for a closer relationship with their children. Jen Friedman sums it up: “If I didn't give this to my kids, it wouldn't feel right.”

Hearing all of these stories about the peace and intimacy people get out of a day to rest and re-connect with their families was just the encouragement I needed to plan my first Kosina Family Tech-Free Day. In fact, I started feeling a bit wimpy just eliminating laptops for the day. I'm not ready to take the plunge and eliminate all electricity yet, but I can definitely live without computers, cell phones, clocks, and cars for a day. For practical reasons, I've chosen a Sunday for our own personal Sabbath, and decided to adopt the Jewish tradition of starting at sundown on Saturday, February 27th and ending when we see three stars in the sky on the evening of Sunday, February 28th. Maybe we'll even watch the sunset, something I've been wanting to do as a family for years now, but somehow haven't found the time for yet.

Want to read more about observing a Sabbath?

Here are some links to get you started:

The Sabbath Manifesto, a "creative project designed to slow down lives in an increasingly hectic world" offers tips for how to observe your own Sabbath and testimonials from happy Sabbath observers.

Sabbath Keepers offers multimedia profiles of three different people who keep the Sabbath in modern society.

And lastly, evidence that I am not alone in my quest for people to put down their electronic devices and talk to each other. Here is an article about a cafe in Oakland that asked patrons to turn off their laptops for a day and actually talk to each other at communal tables.

Nothing with a Face

Deciding what technology to do without on Technology-free Day is a bit like deciding how to be a vegetarian. It seems simple at first. No meat. Well, does fish count as meat? There are plenty of pescetarians out there who wouldn't think of letting a morsel of cow past their lips, but have absolutely no qualms about eating fish. And what about wearing leather? Is it ok to kill an animal to get a pair of shoes if you don't believe in killing an animal to get a hamburger? Some vegans don't eat honey because they believe the production of honey exploits bees. Followers of Jainism, an ancient Indian religion that preaches non-violence against all living beings, wear face masks so that they don't accidentally breathe in a gnat and kill it. And for those of you who thought peanut butter was a perfectly acceptable vegetarian alternative, read this article about food contaminants. Apparently the FDA allows an “average of 30 or more insect fragments per 100 grams of peanut butter” before it starts investigating.

So, what's an animal lover to do? Some vegetarians draw the line at eating anything with a face. So animal products like honey and milk would be ok, but they won't eat anything that could look you in the eye. I tried adopting this policy for Technology-free Day, and decided to eliminate anything with a “face” or screen. So, no computers, no TVs, no cell phones, but then I realized {gasp} that clocks would have to go too. Well that threw me into a panic.

I tried another approach: nothing with an on/off switch. Pretty straightforward. Again, computers, TVs, cell phones, but what about lights? Lamps have on/off switches. So do coffee grinders and stove burners. Does a key in a car count as an on/off switch? Hmm.

Perplexed, I turned to Judaism. Jews, as I mentioned previously, have been going “technology free” for hundreds of years on a weekly basis to rest and observe “Shabbat”. They have very specific rules for this stuff, and strictly forbid 39 different categories of work. It is also forbidden to get someone else to do the work for you, so even though you can't cook, you also can't just get take-out. Making fire is forbidden, and this rule has been adapted to the modern age to ban turning on lights and even starting cars, since the spark plug lights a fire in the engine.

I realized that like vegetarians, I would just have to draw the line somewhere. And that the line could move. I could start out by banning the biggest offenders: computers (which for us includes TV since we watch movies and shows on our laptop). Next, I could expand the list of contraband to cell phones, clocks, cars, and eventually all electricity. I probably won't miss some of these things at all for 24 hours (the car), but some I cannot imagine living without. Embarrassingly, clocks are high on that list. So are coffee grinders. This is pretty telling about how I live my life and what I am a slave to. I think this experiment is going in the right direction.

Taking a Break from Technology

After snarling bitterly at my husband as yet another oblivious pedestrian sauntered into the crosswalk in front of my car, paying more attention to the little electronic device he was holding than to oncoming traffic, I snapped. Enough! Enough staring into screens every waking minute. Enough knowing what the girl you hated in high school ate for breakfast because you saw her post on Facebook, but not knowing why your grandmother moved to California in 1921. Enough playing “Save the Rainforest” on the computer instead of getting outside and picking up trash on Ocean Beach.

Mobile devices, computers, and maybe even Twitter are here to stay. And they are not necessarily a bad thing. But sometimes, it's good to take a break. This blog is going to be about taking a break from technology. How I do it. How you can do it too. What happens when we turn off the laptops, the phones, even the car for 24 hours? Come along and find out.

I get the irony of using a computer and the web to talk about this. I really do. I also get the irony of doing this in a city just north of Silicon Valley, where most of this stuff was invented. Let me re-iterate that I am not anti-technology. I just think we all might benefit from unplugging every once in a while, re-connecting with each other through real conversation and touch.

Jews know all about this. They've been taking a day off from technology every week since before computers were invented. It's called “Shabbat” and instead of watching television, families come together to eat leisurely meals, talk, nap, play games and generally enjoy each others' company. Doesn't that sound relaxing?

Looking back on when I have been happiest, I notice that I am most relaxed after spending a few days or if I'm lucky, a week, outside. It doesn't matter if I am rock climbing in the Sierras, backpacking through the Alaskan wilderness, or checking out the art at the Burning Man Festival, all that matters is that using technology is not an option for several days. (It doesn't hurt, of course, spending this time in some of the most visually stimulating places on earth.)

It must be possible to re-create this relaxation and feeling of connection without heading off to the wilderness for a week, and my goal with this blog is to keep me accountable to do just that. Every month or so I will declare a Technology-free Day in my household and we will experiment with living without computers, cell phones, cars, maybe even electricity if we are feeling adventurous. I'll chronicle what we did, and how it went, here. Eventually I hope to encourage others to do the same.

I'm primarily interested in the social aspects of this experiment, but there is a beneficial environmental impact as well. “No Impact Man” has that covered in his blog.

Like Mahatma Gandhi said: “Be the change you want to see in the world.” At this point, it's hard to see how not checking email for a day will encourage that guy in the crosswalk to hang up and take a look around him at this beautiful city, but I have to start somewhere.