Tech & the Art of Doing Absolutely Nothing

Longing for true quiet in a world of constant notifications? Maybe the greatest rebellion is unplugging, embracing stillness—and remembering to reboot.

Do you ever find yourself longing for a bit of quiet? Not just “airplane mode” quiet, but the true-blue, fire-in-the-hearth, knitting-by-lantern kind of quiet. Nowadays, finding peace feels like trying to locate Waldo in Times Square on New Year’s Eve—everyone’s jostling for your attention, from your smartwatch urging you to “stand up” to some app telling you that, no, you really should drink more water (because that’s what survival has come to).

When did life become one big notification? We’re a long way from the days when sitting on the porch with a pitcher of iced tea was a whole afternoon activity. Instead, we’re sprinting through time itself, thanks to these beeping, flashing contraptions that tell us we’re running late—even to relax.

And here’s the kicker: they call this “progress.” Funny, isn’t it? As a self-admitted tech junkie, I can’t help but marvel at the upside of it all, even if I’ve rewritten the old adage to fit the times: “When it comes to technology, the definition of madness is doing the same thing over and over and getting a different result.” Whether it’s Wi-Fi that cuts out only in the exact moment you’re on a Zoom call, or a printer that jams for no reason on page 47, it’s as if technology’s one true innovation is in unpredictability.

Now, imagine explaining to the early American settlers that one day we’d invent machines that track our steps, monitor our heartbeats, and remind us to sleep—as if we’d forget! Those folks worked from dawn till dusk, only to fall into bed with barely enough strength to pull a quilt up to their chin. The “self-care” movement for them was surviving winter without losing any toes.

Let’s take a moment to salute the Luddites, those 19th-century renegades who took a stand against machines in England. Of course, they were talking about textile mills, not toasters that talk back, but still—the spirit of it remains. They were fed up with technology before it could even Tweet. Imagine what they’d say now. I like to think they’d be on a sort of heroic cross-country journey, ripping out Wi-Fi routers, tossing Fitbits into the ocean, maybe even engaging in a few ceremonial smartphone burials.

But here we are. Modern Luddites, craving a life slower than the last software update, hoping to reclaim a shred of time from an era where every second is micro-managed, GPS-tracked, and preserved in the Cloud for posterity.

So, what can we do? Maybe we can take a cue from our own history—embrace the art of doing absolutely nothing now and then. Put the phone down, ignore the watch, and let the silence fill in the gaps. After all, in this plugged-in world, perhaps the greatest rebellion is a little peace and quiet.

And, of course, don’t forget to reboot.