Take a Screenbatical
7 couples. 1 long weekend. No kids.
The above transformed 14 of us into worry-free juveniles when we arrived at Casa Acini — a fancy, upscale beachfront Villa in Los Cabos to celebrate our dear friend’s 50th birthday.
We were about halfway through the trip in the heavy of a sun-soaked afternoon when a few of us now “marinated” Alphas decided to dismiss the advice of the hospitable house staff. The shimmering Sea of Cortez (Pacific Ocean side) was just steps from our Villa, and the crash of some colossal waves was calling us.
While there were beach warnings and literal red flags everywhere…
Out 5 of the dads went. Yours truly being one of them.
I won’t speak for anyone else, but in the back of my mind, as I was working myself AWAY from our house, I could hear the cautionary commentary from the staff repeating on a loop in my head:
Be careful out there.
The waves are deceptive.
The undertows are dangerous.
We were now 100 yards out in the thick of the waves. One big crash after the next. No doubt, this was a good time. The waves were loud, but we were louder as we laughed like big kids jumping, ducking, or riding each wave that presented itself.
When we had enough, 20 minutes later, we headed back towards the sand.
As I tried to work myself back in, less-than-ideal swimming conditions showed its face. Unpredictable rip tides tug me from below, nudging me from the shore back towards the Ocean. My quiet struggle was real as these powerful, swirling rip tides were working against me.
I remember being locked in and focused on doing what I needed to do to return to shore. Finally, I made my way past the danger zone. What felt like an eternity (which lasted all of five-minutes) was behind me.
I stepped out of the water, and, like a few of the other Dads, the laughs were now all muted. I quietly huffed my way across the serene and pristine sand back toward the Villa.
What does any of the above have to do with the subject title?
Fast forward to last week.
1 couple. 1 final family summer trek. 2 kids.
My wife and I took the family to Ojai, near Santa Barbara, for a final quick getaway before school started. If you’re an adult, then you’re like me: You don’t get summer off. In fact, the rhythm of the household is disjointed because of summer. I was committed to taking a few days off. But, when you run your own business, do you ever really step away? Even when my calendar says, “I’m off”…I’m on. Just ask my family.
While there is always a nearby screen accessible and at my fingertips, something in the first few days of our trip triggered me. I realized I was checking my phone more than usual, and it had bothered me enough to realize I needed to detach.
So, I pulled an audible: I decided I was going to absolve myself from all screens — a Screenbatical, if you will — for a simple, meager 24 hours. As I woke up on the morning of the last full day of our trek, I took my cell phone and locked it in the safe. This was a pleasant surprise to my wife.
As the day kicked off, we headed out into the quaint town of Ojai for breakfast. We stumbled onto a special little spot called Love Social Cafe. Once our order was in (breakfast tacos for me), that’s when it hit me:
Be careful out there.
The waves are deceptive.
The undertows are dangerous.
While not on me, my security blanket of a cell phone was tugging at me.
In my first moment of stillness, I was restless.
I know myself well enough to say with confidence that if my screen were in my pocket, I would have checked it for a text, an email, or some (not so) breaking news. Instead, my eyes spotted something I would have missed sitting on a table on the other side of the restaurant: A Dominoes set.
For the next 45 minutes, our family played a game we didn’t know the rules. So much that a stranger-turned-friend named “Lee” stepped in and taught us how to play. We were enlightened on the scoring system. We learned about “spinners” (a tile that can be played on both sides). We were educated about when one needs to turn to the boneyard where the remaining dominoes currently not in-play lived face down. We enjoyed our breakfasts, connected with each other, and made a new friend. Not bad for the first hour of my screen-free day.
Next up, we convinced the kids to go on a hike.
Code for: “bribed kids”. Hike now, ice cream later.
When you have kids under 10, the hikes are more like the world’s slowest 100-yard dash. As we hiked up Los Padres National Forest, a spectacular view from above Ojai made itself available. As our official unpaid family photographer, I found myself wanting to take a picture of this moment. And, just then, I heard something ringing. Was it from my pocket? No. It was my cell phone calling me in my mind.
Be careful out there.
The waves are deceptive.
The undertows are dangerous.
I was thinking about my phone when I should have been experiencing this hike with my family. I took a deep breath, held my daughter’s hands, and returned back to our moment on the mountain. We hiked back to where we came from as the pursuit of ice cream now flooded my children’s minds.
As the day went on, I thought less about my phone and connected more with my kids.
There was our “getting lost” time in the world’s largest outside bookstore called, “Bart’s Books”. There was the cruising around Ojai Valley Inn, exploring the property, from our bikes. There was an endless afternoon at the pool dunking my son and catching up with the woman I live with whom, at this moment, wasn’t just wearing the title of “Mom” but “Wife”.
As the day turned to night, the undertow of my cell phone loosened its grip on me. We hit an outdoor movie the kids wanted to see. Just before Super Mario Brothers was projected on the big screen, my ten-year-old son turned to me and said, “You seem less stressed, Dad”.
Like Super Mario hitting a ton of bricks himself, this stuck to me:
1. I don’t like that my son can already spot “stress” when he sees it.
2. I didn’t like that my son could sense I was lighter from my Screenbatical.
As my 24-hour experiment ended, I learned a valuable lesson that I will forever take into every vacation. I had been disconnected from what mattered most. If we’re not careful, our cell phones and the access it provides, will drown us.
My Screenbatical was my lifesaver.
