Switch off

Is it time to disconnect from a hyper-connected world?

It was a Whatsapp message from my nephew that first alerted me to the fact that something was up. “Hello, I’m not going to be using a phone any more,” he announced cheerily to all his contacts. “If you’d like to get in touch, I’d be delighted to hear from you on email.” It’s now been a few weeks since that announcement and Arjun maintains that he’s never been more at peace than since he gave up on his phone. There are no incessant calls and messages, both personal and professional, no constant notifications from social media platforms; instead there is blessed quiet in which he can hear himself think.

I would have dismissed this as just my nephew being his usual eccentric self – he did, after all, give up on being a successful lawyer to train in drama therapy – if I hadn’t meet many other millennials since then who also seem to be disenchanted by phones and what they are doing to their lives.

One of them confessed that she felt so stressed at the thought of having to take work calls at all hours of the day that just the ring of her phone was enough to trigger an anxiety attack. Another had deleted all social media apps like Twitter and Facebook from his phone, using them only when he accessed his laptop, and felt much more productive as a consequence. And then, there was the one who was so concerned by his ‘screen time’ reports (did he really spend 2.3 hours on Instagram on average every day?) that he had downloaded an app that automatically cut off his Internet usage once he had breached a certain time limit.

I could go on, but you probably get the point. I certainly did, and inspired by these young people, over the last fortnight I have attempted to bring down my ‘screen time’ as well (no, you really don’t want to know how long I spend on Twitter every day) and see if that helps me concentrate better on the book that I am working on at the moment. My way of doing this was to activate ‘Airplane mode’ when I sat down to write, so I had to perforce focus on my writing rather than disappear down the rabbit hole that is the Internet.

I must admit that it wasn’t easy to begin with. With an almost Pavlovian response, my fingers kept reaching out for the Twitter or Instagram icon, as my attention wandered from the computer screen in front of me. But when the feed would not – or more accurately, could not – refresh – I had no option but to turn back to my writing. The first few days were tough as my brain rewired itself to focus on one task rather than flitting from one to another as it had become accustomed to doing. But after a period of time, I actually began to look forward to these islands of time when I could concentrate on one thing to the exclusion of all else. And now, two weeks later, I can’t even begin to sit down to write without first activating ‘Airplane mode’ on my phone.

One happy outcome of this is over the last fortnight, my screen time is down by 47 per cent. And it would be even lower if it wasn’t for the fact that I have downloaded the Kindle app on my phone and do all my late-night reading on it.  The time I spend reading news sites is still a bit high, but I justify it to myself by calling it work (which, in a way, it is) rather than pleasure. I dip into Twitter only once or twice a day, and I feel much calmer – and much less outraged! – as a consequence. And I treat Instagram like a late-night treat rather than an hourly indulgence, which makes me appreciate it a lot more.

I am now pushing the envelope a little further by leaving my phone behind when I go on my daily walks. It felt a bit strange at first, not being able to listen to music or an audio book as I ambled through Lodhi Garden. But as I walked on, I began to appreciate the real world around me a lot more when I didn’t have a distracting soundtrack playing in my ear. I drank in the beauty of the flowery verges, the majesty of the monuments that suddenly sprang up on me, and the sweet sound of birdsong as the sun set on another day.

In a way it was a throwback to a gentler time, to my mobile phone-free youth, when I used to leave work in the evening and head straight out for a bracing walk secure in the knowledge that nobody could get hold of me for the next hour or so no matter how hard they tried. This is not a feeling that most young people these days are at all familiar with, given the hyper-connectedness of their lives, when they are never truly off the grid. Work mails keep pouring in at all times, bosses Whatsapp at odd hours and expect an instant comeback, and parents want to know exactly where you are and what you are doing at any given time.

No wonder the poor dears want to turn their phones on silent, or even switch the damn things off. In this day and age, sadly, that’s the only way to get some peace and quiet – and a tiny sliver of time to yourself.

Take a walk

Trust me on this, it will do you much good; and not just by way of exercise

This is the only time of the year when it is a pleasure to take a walk in the park. The worst of the winter in over (in those parts that do, in fact, have a winter) and the searing heat of the summer lies in the hazy distance. There is a cool breeze wafting, the sun radiates its mild benevolence on all, the flowers bloom without the slightest sense of modesty, and the smell of roasting peanuts comes rolling in from around the corner.

How can you not enjoy a walk through the park when the whole universe is conspiring to please you at every turn?

Well, as you may have guessed by now, I can and I do enjoy it tremendously. I try and keep my afternoons free so that I can ramble through Lodhi Garden, taking care to stay away from the jogging track with its aggressive, Lycra-clad bullies who take particular pleasure in shoving slower souls like me off the path. Instead, I veer off on to the smaller pathways, some of them enclosed by bamboo trees, some bound by flowering beds, and yet others bordered by a quietly sparkling lake, where ducks and geese majestically paddle away, scarcely disturbing the calm surface of the water.

I turn my phone on silent and slip it into my pocket. For the next hour or so, I don't want to hear from anyone. I don't need music blaring through my earphones. I don't care for the distraction of my Twitter timeline or my Facebook feed. I don't want to take pictures that I can later post on Instagram.

This is my quiet time. A time when I need to hear myself think. And I find that I never think quite so clearly as when I am taking a walk.

This is the time when I work out the kinks in the plot of the novel I am halfway through writing. This is when I think of the topic of my next column. This is when I plan the menu if I am having people over for dinner. This is when I think of the cutting responses I should have used in the argument I had with a friend last night (I know, I know, it's too late, but even so...).

But most of all, I use this time to simply let my mind wander where it will. If it chooses to go back and examine a childhood memory, I follow it right there. If it wants to puzzle over why dog owners never pick up after their pooches, I allow it to do so. If it feels like ruminating over the book I've just finished reading, I let it. If it wants to examine the meaning of life, then I indulge it.

And I can tell that my mind really needs this because at the end of my perambulation I find myself feeling much lighter, more energised, and far less stressed than I was before I began my walk. And it's not just the physical exercise that makes me feel better about myself, it is also the mental stimulation.

It now turns out that I am far from being the only one who feels this way. A recent article in the New York Times detailed a University of Birmingham study that examined if people did feel better after a walk. The subjects were divided into two groups, one of whom walked for half an hour in their lunch break (they could pace themselves as they saw fit; going as slow or fast as they liked) while the other didn't. Those who did walk were asked to rate their state of mind afterwards on a specially designed app. At the end of 10 weeks, the first group had significantly higher rates of mental and physical satisfaction than the group that didn't walk. They felt better about themselves, were less stressed, felt more equipped to deal with problems and were far less overwhelmed by life.

After 10 weeks, the second group -- which had, until then, served as the control group -- was asked to walk during their lunch break as well. And -- you guessed right! -- they started feeling better about themselves as well after taking a half-hour lunchtime stroll. They felt refreshed, rejuvenated and ready on take on the world (I paraphrase, of course, but that was the gist of it).

Frankly, I am not surprised. My own experience has told me over the years that going for a walk leads to a sense of well-being that has nothing to do with aerobic exercise itself. A walk is much more than that.

For me, it is a period of quiet reflection, a time to switch off and spend time with myself. For others, who treat it as a communal activity, it may be a time to bond with friends, exchange gossip, or just a laugh or two. And then, there are those who treat it as an opportunity to listen to the latest music or even listen to an audio book, something that they don't otherwise have time for in their fractious lives.

But whatever the motivation, there is no denying that taking a stroll, no matter how gentle, is good for your general well being. So, what are you waiting for? Go on. Take a walk. You can always thank me later.