I’ve mentioned a few times over the last few years that I’ve struggled with the fear of not being available via my digital devices.
During my Tending Year project in 2018, where I researched, practiced, and blogged about a new productivity tool each week, I wrote a blog post about “Social Media with Intention and Awareness.” Here’s what I had to say about my relationship with my tech six years ago:
Alongside recommendations to batch posts and write creative captions, I kept hearing podcasters preach one piece of advice that felt absolutely insidious to me: turn off your phone. The thought of disconnecting completely from my phone made me feel ill. In fact, it prompted the same kind of panic that I used to feel when I smoked cigarettes and worried about when I would get to take my next smoke break….But, am I really addicted to my phone? Further, am I really addicted to social media, to Instagram, or am I addicted to what they symbolize: the idea that I should be available at all times.
In 2019, I wrote this in my blog post “Intentional Tech Use”:
I have anxiety around being unavailable. I want to be able to step away from my phone/watch and not feel anxious about missing important information. I want to resee my technology as tools that make my life easier, not as things I am beholden to.
In 2022, I wrote another blog post about “Noticing My Attention Practices,” where I said this:
When I started paying attention to my attention practices, I noticed the connectivity my Apple watch provides me: I flick my wrist to read a text message or receive a vibration when someone’s calling me (my phone is always on silent, but the calls route to my watch). I imagined an experiment: I’ll just take it off, treat myself to a fancy artisan watch instead, like back in the day. Can you guess what happened next? I panicked. What if something happened to my loved ones but since my phone is always on silent I wouldn’t get the message bounced to my watch? My chest tightened, and while I felt uncomfortable, I also flagged my catastrophizing as something worth further consideration.
While my relationship with technology is an ever-evolving negotiation, I have some exciting news to share:
I swapped out my Apple Watch for a Casio digital watch last December. I’m pleasantly surprised to report that I don’t miss my smart watch at all!
In fact, I acclimated quickly to wearing a timepiece that didn’t remind me of anything or tether me to being available all the time. I wasn’t using any of the fancy apps or trackers on my watch anyways, so it was functioning basically to tell time and deliver text messages. I was ready for the shift, and have felt so much peace since doing so.
In addition to finally swapping out my smart watch, I wanted to share some more updates about where I’m at with my relationships with technology in May 2024.
Phone Boundaries
I charge my phone in my home office so I don’t feel drawn to reach for it at night in bed. The only time I charge my phone in my bedroom is when Kris is traveling out of town and I want to be available in case of emergencies.
Unless I’m waiting for a scheduled phone call, I keep my iPhone on silent and do not disturb. While these settings do increase my focus and productivity, they also offer me a similar feeling of comfort to not wearing my Apple Watch. I’ll check a text or a voicemail when I get to it.
Email Boundaries
I don’t have a personal or work email app on my phone. I do give myself permission to log into my personal G-mail account via my web browser only if I need to access important details outside of home (like appointment details, gift certificate codes, or addresses), but I don’t check my work email on my cell phone—period. It’s glorious.
My email signature has a line that reads “Please note that I check and respond to email between 10am-4pm Eastern Time on Monday through Friday.” I added this to the bottom of my emails a few years ago for two purposes:
It helps me hold a boundary for when I check and reply to work emails, which keeps my workaholic tendencies in check.
It provides an example that other people can use for their own communication and availability boundaries. If you like it, please feel free to use and adapt it for your own purposes!
What’s Next?
I want to spend less time scrolling on my phone.
First, I plan to use my Forest app more. Forest is a pulse and pause app that encourages focused work sessions by planting a digital tree or flower in a virtual garden every time you successfully complete a Pomodoro session. I’m motivated by the gamification in the app, where each focused work session rewards you with points you can exchange for upgrades to new plants, trees, and background sounds.
Second, I’m going to try to stop phubbing! Phubbing is when we snub someone by using our phone when we’re meant to be enjoying their company. I’m going to try to spend more time being present with Kris and my pets in the evening and less time mindlessly scrolling—which doesn’t actually make me feel connected or happy.
There’s No Right or Wrong Way to Tech
While keeping my phone on silent and sharing my availability in my email signature DO help me feel more present and relaxed, it doesn’t mean I’m some technology angel. The thing about tech boundaries is that there’s no one perfect way to set or hold them. I sometimes bring my phone downstairs with me and scroll “short nail manicure aesthetic” on Pinterest until 9pm. I sometimes pop into my office to briefly check my email before I go to sleep, even though I’m not going to reply to anything. Remember: you don’t need to be perfect—we’re all just doing our best in an increasingly tech-heavy world to find a balance that works best for us.
Take good care and talk soon,
Dr. Kate