Jeremy C Kester

Relaxation. It is a need. Almost a must-have in today’s society, where everything feels like it is moving at speeds that could strip the skin off one’s flesh were they not careful. Some would place relaxation within this overarching new fad of “self-care”, where an industry has popped up with everything from aroma therapy, self-massagers, and apps to help one in their bid to de-stress, de-clutter, de-exhaust. After all, life is flying by; we all need a moment to breathe.

I, like so many, find myself glued to a device during one of these many times were I seek to relax. Television, cell phone, tablet, gaming console — one or more of these devices shining their harsh glow into my eyes as I lounge in a chair or sprawled out somewhere that can accommodate my 6-foot frame. I claim I am relaxing, trying to spend the moments in a bid to recharge. Yet, I find that it was never the case.

Relaxation was something I always needed more of. To the point of near laziness. To the point of being unable to focus on normal tasks. To the point where procrastination reigned supreme. To the point where I always felt like I needed another nap.

Napping worked of course, when I allowed myself to close my eyes instead of finding another ASMR video (if I stuck to that search term) to “relax”. These pauses of consciousness never quite worked for long, even if I felt less tired in the end. Then, depending on what was going on in my life at the time, also was risky, leaving little time for anything else to happen.

Naps usually only happened because my consciousness couldn’t maintain itself any longer. It was not voluntary, even if I laid down with the intention to nap. Add to that, before and after my attention fell behind my eyelids, the screens would illuminate soon after.

Rest — real rest would seldom visit me.

Of course, the immediate belief is that I simply lacked the time to relax. What I am learning, however, is that I had plenty of time, it was simply in what I chose to spend that time doing where the problems laid.

Recently, I started making myself sit or lie on a bed or sit on a chair without anything. Not even a book. The phone is near enough that I can grab it, doing so to train myself not to need it. Or at least the attempt is being made to get rid of the impulse of grabbing it. Much of the time, I am not trying to sleep, although these sessions may lead to that. The goal is to sit and let my mind wander. Or go blank. All this that I can rest.

The impulse to do this came one day when I simply felt that I had enough of my phone. Even my computer and tablet, which both house the majority of my writing and are the tools to write, each had somehow gotten to the edges of my tolerance. Simply put, I needed a small break to stare into nothingness.

A clarity visited me after this brief session. It maybe lasted 10 or 15 minutes — this session did. Time between necessary tasks was brief, after all. Somehow, it was refreshing. Sitting there with mind wandering aimlessly, not tethered to whatever scrolling or video was there — I found it actually helped.

It made me think, how often in today’s society do we take time like this to simply be still? How often do we set forth with the intention of being alone with our thoughts? How often do we intend to rest or relax without the help of our devices? Without some form of entertainment to guide us?

My guess is that very few of us do.

In many cases, I watch people who are resting, arm or arms bent with a device in hand, their eyes blandly following the pixels lit in front of them. Sure, they’re resting, as everyone including myself tries to convince anyone who raises the question of it all. Maybe it’s the need for a distraction. Perhaps its that tech companies are intentionally hacking our attention, finding better and better ways to draw us in. Maybe that hacking is simply tuning into an innate desire to distract. Turning off our mind without anything to turn it towards is a dangerous proposition.

Meditation is advertised as one option to change our path. It might even be that simply sitting there and doing nothing could be considered a form of it. An active form of doing nothing. Clearing away one’s mind or allowing it to simply float through the substance of one’s thoughts unabated by whatever we would place in front of it.

Yet, that is boring. Some might think it is wasting time. Yet is it? Is either descriptor an accurate portrayal of what we all should be doing? Taking breaths throughout the day, breaks from the insanity of life.

Modern culture, if it is anything, is a race on a treadmill bolted to the bed of a pickup truck racing through a bustling city. In one sense we think we’re getting somewhere, not realizing that we’re not really in control of any of it. And the pace of it all is backbreaking — or rather, it is sanity breaking.

Technology, too, is everywhere, and it is continuing to speed up in what’s novel (or what seems novel). While we seem more connected than ever, we feel more disconnected. We claim to get more done, and still we appear to be unable to get anything done. All the while we can’t seem to break into any understanding about any of it, all while we try our best to claim to know what is going on or how we are going to best manage it all.

Taking breaks, at the very least, has been working from me. And this isn’t the “going off social media” or “digital detox” as some subscribe. People think that everything has to be an all-or-nothing solution to the problem. Some restrictions are necessary. Some changes in behavior is warranted. While I can’t simply drop use of a smartphone or computer, it behooves me to learn a way to manage it.

So I am learning to take small breaks. At the very least.

I am learning to drop the phone or screen when I am tired, even though those ASMR videos might tempt me. Or the Calm app. Things designed — meant — to calm us. Or if Zelda asks for my help to save Hyrule. I tell her to wait.

Screens are needed though. This unending connection to pixels and interaction. It is taking some real effort to put them down and to simply be. To breathe and observe the world. It turns out, even these small breaks are changing me for the better.