The Unplugged Hours

1. The Digital World Steals Our Vibrant Life

What we may actually be missing out on is the full, vibrant life that’s right in front of us—one where we can gather, create, learn, and find what we’ve been looking for all along.

The illusion of connection. We are often convinced that constant digital connectivity enhances our lives, making us feel more connected, effective, or informed. However, this pervasive digital presence frequently leads to a profound disconnect from the rich, present life unfolding around us. The author highlights a growing weariness and a sense of missing out on what truly matters.

Hidden costs. The relentless stream of notifications and information takes a significant toll on our well-being. This constant stimulation leads to:

• Nomophobia: Fear of being disconnected from one's mobile phone.
• Elevated Cortisol: Stress hormone levels rise even when a phone is just in sight.
• Information Overload: Our brains, designed for monotasking, struggle with constant input, leading to shorter attention spans and increased anxiety.
• Eroding Compassion: Apathy can set in from the overwhelming influx of news and stories.

Surface-level living. This digital dependency fosters a habit of documenting life rather than fully participating in it, leading to a reliance on external validation. Relationships become stagnant, and even family moments are interrupted by the urge to check devices, creating a pervasive feeling that no one is ever truly present.

2. Unplugging is a Journey to Reclaim Your Presence

This was me—hour by hour—taking back a life that had slowly become less present, less awake, and less vibrant over time.

A gentle nudge. The author's journey began on her thirty-third birthday with a simple, profound instruction: "Turn off your phone." This wasn't a call to abandon technology entirely, but an invitation to find balance and reclaim a life that had become less vibrant due to constant connectivity. The initial twelve hours of being powered down brought more joy than she had felt all year.

The 1,000-hour challenge. This epiphany led to a personal challenge: 1,000 unplugged hours in one year, equating to a few intentional device-free hours daily. The goal was not an extreme digital detox but a conscious effort to put technology back in its rightful place. The author defined "unplugged" as no phone, email, social media, TV, or digital media consumption.

Beyond a simple experiment. What started as a challenge quickly transformed into an ongoing story of cultivating profound presence. The author realized it was about recovering lost parts of herself, creating rather than consuming, seeing blessing in the mundane, and breaking free from the hurriedness that caused anxiety and restlessness. It was a call to relentlessly check into her own life.

3. Growth Emerges from Embracing Discomfort

My ability to plug in became a portal I went through to avoid any emotion I didn’t feel like facing: anger, sadness, jealousy, pain.

The default of disconnect. The author recounts a pivotal moment during a silent car ride home after a date-night fight, where she realized her phone was off. This presented a choice: endure momentary discomfort or escape it with a button press. Over time, she had unknowingly built a default mode of disconnect, using her devices to numb any uncomfortable emotion.

Numbing vs. connecting. These "little escapes" initially felt harmless but evolved into a pattern of avoiding genuine feelings. As author Brianna Wiest notes, if phone use doesn't inspire or relax, it's likely an avoidance of discomfort that signals a need for change. The devices allow us to bypass stillness and self-reflection.

Sitting in the uncomfortable. When beginning to unplug, feelings of discomfort, awkwardness, or not knowing "what to do with your hands" are common. The author encourages readers to sit in these feelings, embodying them, as resistance often signals that one is on the right path. Growth frequently emerges from staying in discomfort long enough to learn from it.

4. Prioritize Checking In with Your Inner Self

What would happen if we checked into the lives we’re building as much as we checked into other people’s lives online?

The cycle of overwhelm. The author describes a past state of constant overwhelm, anxiety, and stress, fueled by the pressure to be "all the things" to everyone. This led to a habit of immediately checking her phone upon waking, allowing external agendas and opinions to dictate her day before it even began, effectively "checking out" rather than "checking in."

Dopamine traps. Our brains crave dopamine, and devices deliver intense doses quickly, leading to addictive scrolling and clicking. This constant pursuit of external stimulation prevents us from turning inward. The author highlights Psalm 42, where the psalmist asks, "Why are you downcast, O my soul?"—a powerful example of checking in with oneself.

Reclaiming self-awareness. The process of checking in began slowly:

• Using an alarm clock and keeping the phone out of the bedroom.
• Prioritizing coffee, Scripture, and sunlight over emails in the morning.
• Learning to sit and do nothing, embracing solitude.
  This shift allowed her to regain the ability to be alone with herself, fostering self-awareness and realizing that she was worth the time and attention she had previously given to digital distractions.

5. Authentic Connection Thrives Beyond Screens

Whether we’re willing to admit it or not, we desperately need the physical presence of others.

Maggie's wisdom. The author recalls a college encounter with an elderly woman named Maggie, who criticized young people's screen-based communication, emphasizing the need to "see, touch, smell" a best friend. This interaction, initially dismissed, became a powerful wake-up call about the diminishing quality of digital relationships. The author admits to being part of the 61% of adults reporting loneliness, despite constant digital "connection."

The cost of convenience. Relationships often feel easier behind a screen, allowing for curated versions of ourselves and superficial interactions. This wide-net approach, however, leads to fragile connections and isolation. The author's "substitute granny" story illustrates the unexpected richness and divine timing of in-person encounters, which can easily be missed when distracted by devices.

Vulnerability vs. honesty. While honesty involves sharing parts of ourselves, true vulnerability, the author argues, means inviting others into our mess, being willing to be helped, and removing the mask. This level of connection requires face-to-face interaction, fostering deep roots that yield the fullness and richness of human connection, even if it means pushing through discomfort.

6. Redefine Worth Beyond Constant Productivity

Could it be that on the days we feel like we’re producing nothing, God is producing something valuable and resilient within us?

The "Boneyard" mentality. Growing up feeling overlooked, the author developed an intense drive to "do more" and "accomplish more," equating achievement with worth. This ambition, fueled by digital applause, led to a constant pressure to be "all the things" and a belief that her value was tied to her output.

Crumbling definitions. A ten-month season of her daughter's unexplained illness forced the author to confront her rigid definition of productivity. Days were chaotic, tasks went undone, and her old metrics of success crumbled. Her mother's simple advice, "You could maybe just be sad and not make a system," offered a permission slip to release the need to constantly "fix" or "master" every situation.

Internal growth. This period of perceived "unproductivity" revealed a deeper truth: something valuable was being produced within her. Patience, preparedness, trust, gratitude, and the ability to be truly present were cultivated. The author realized she couldn't "produce" her way into becoming the person she desired; instead, internal shifts like compassion and peace were slowly emerging, far more lasting than any external accomplishment.

7. Rekindle Your Innate Sense of Wonder

Life is very, very hard. It takes practice to maintain the wonder.

A child's perspective. The author observes her two-year-old daughter, Novalee, who lives in perpetual awe, noticing every detail from car models to distant train rumblings. This childlike wonder, often lost in adulthood, highlights how easily we become hurried and preoccupied, unintentionally stifling our own and others' capacity for awe.

The power of "unselfing." Research from UC Berkeley shows that experiences of awe and wonder lead to "unselfing"—a sense of smallness that isn't insignificant but rather connects us to something vast. This phenomenon calms the nervous system, releases oxytocin, quiets mental chatter, and deepens connections. It's harder to experience when our heads are always down, focused inward.

A breath prayer for awe. The author adopted a breath prayer: "God, restore my sense of wonder." This practice, along with intentionally noticing the mundane (like a spider spinning a web or a rainstorm), helps to reactivate this vital human capacity. Wonder, she realizes, isn't found in exotic travel but in the everyday, hiding in plain sight, if we only look up and pay attention.

8. Embrace Sacred Rest to Refill Your Soul

The world has our hands, but our soul belongs to Someone Else.

Jesus's invitation. The author frequently returns to Jesus's invitation: "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest." This highlights a divine understanding of our deep soul weariness and a gentle invitation to cease striving, not a command.

Sabbath undone. Before the pandemic, Sabbath—a 24-hour period of rest, delight, and ceasing from digital engagement—was central to the author's life. However, during the pandemic, the rhythm unraveled as she turned to her phone for answers, fearing she'd miss something crucial if she unplugged. This led to "doomscrolling" and a deeper sense of anxiety.

Reclaiming rest. Re-engaging with Sabbath meant releasing perfectionism and embracing the practice of ceasing:

• Ceasing work, tech, productivity, striving, and control.
• Learning to release the narrative of "holding it all together."
  This weekly rhythm infused her with strength, fresh inspiration, and a posture of peace. It taught her that rest isn't weakness but a secret to strength, allowing her to return to the bustle with renewed energy and a different cadence.

9. God's Presence is Your Ultimate Qualification

Of all the things I could offer you, this is the most important thing, the thing that will allow you to be okay in all of this: my presence.

Moses's question. The author reflects on Moses's encounter with God at the burning bush. When Moses, feeling unqualified after forty years in obscurity, asks, "Who am I that you would use me?", God's response is not a list of Moses's qualifications but a simple, profound promise: "I will be with you."

Presence as qualification. This divine response shifts the focus from personal capability to God's unwavering presence. It reassures that we don't need to possess all the "scout badges" or feel perfectly qualified for life's challenges. God's presence is the ultimate qualifier, a constant companion who goes before and follows behind us.

An internal shift. This truth fosters an internal shift, replacing the question "What if God's not here?" with "What if he's in absolutely everything?" This realization allows for a release of pressure and a deeper trust. It means we can step into our roles—as parents, professionals, or friends—with the confidence that God's complete, unwavering presence is with us, making us bold and courageous.

10. Cultivate a Rich and Resilient Inner Life

If your soul is healthy, no external circumstance can destroy your life. If your soul is unhealthy, no external circumstance can redeem your life.

The neglected interior. The author uses the analogy of a dilapidated, unoccupied house to describe a neglected inner life. Just as an owner might paint the exterior but ignore the crumbling interior, we often focus on outward appearances (looks, job, success) while neglecting our unseen inner world. Christian philosopher Dallas Willard emphasizes that a healthy soul is paramount, as no external circumstance can redeem an unhealthy one.

The "outer life trap." Neglecting the inner life leads to defining ourselves by external circumstances and seeking validation from people and events. Leadership coach Susanne Biro calls this the "outer life trap." The author's experience at a dude ranch, where she felt deeply insecure despite being unplugged, revealed that internal battles can persist even without digital distractions.

Building an inner sanctuary. Cultivating an inner life requires:

• Getting alone with oneself: Facing anger, lies, fears, and broken patterns.
• Silencing external noise: Drastically reducing media consumption.
• Adding wise voices: Carefully selecting regenerative content.
• Practicing stillness, prayer, and gratitude.
• Renewing the mind: Actively replacing chaotic lies with better truths.
  This ongoing, often slow work, transforms one into a stronger, more patient, and grace-filled person, leading to a "vibrant" soul that is alive in its deepest parts.

11. Choose a Peaceful Pace Over Constant Hurry

Peace has a pace. A steady, resilient pace. And sometimes you have to slow down to recover your peace and learn how to move with it.

The Christmas card saga. The author recounts a holiday season where her resistance to slowing down manifested as a refusal to send or open Christmas cards, fueled by a "can't keep up" mentality. This self-imposed hurriedness left her mentally frayed and drained of joy, highlighting how her inner compass had broken.

Learning from a mother's pace. Childhood memories of her mother's "painfully slow" pace, stopping to photograph random bits of nature, now appear as wisdom. Her mother was not distracted but attentive, setting her own rhythm and refusing to be rushed by others. This observation revealed that a peaceful pace is a deliberate choice, not a magical occurrence.

Elijah's slow journey. The story of Elijah, nourished by God and walking for forty days what could have been an eleven-day journey, illustrates that God often sets a slow, spiritual pace for transformation. Theologian Kosuke Koyama notes, "Love has a speed. It is an inner speed. It is a spiritual speed." This peaceful pace, though seemingly illogical in a fast-paced world, is essential for recovering peace and cultivating a life rooted in deep rest rather than striving.

12. The Unplugged Life is an Ever-Unfolding Story

This story is only beginning. There’s so much more to live and understand, so much more to uncover and learn as the unplugged hours stack higher and higher.

An anticlimactic milestone. Reaching the 1,000-hour mark was not a grand, celebratory event but a quiet, personal realization while floating in a pool. This understated moment underscored a profound shift: the author no longer needed external validation or applause to confirm the value of her experience. She had learned to savor moments for herself.

Savoring over sharing. The author's journey taught her the healthy opposite of constant sharing is savoring—enjoying moments slowly, without distraction or hurry, accepting their fleeting nature. The mantra "Proceed quietly" became a guiding whisper, reminding her to resist the urge to instantly document or share, especially when the motive was rooted in insecurity rather than overflow.

A continuous beginning. The unplugged hours laid a foundation, and now the building continues. The author realized that "I don't have enough time" was a lie; time was always available, just waiting to be reclaimed and used differently. Her language shifted to "I've had the great gift of time—and it has been enough for me." The ultimate challenge she leaves readers with is simple yet profound: "Take your time." This means setting your own pace, embracing silence, and approaching life with deliberate care, knowing that true presence makes all the difference.

Last updated: February 9, 2026