I Wasn’t Trying to Disappear From the Internet
I spend enough time around technology to know I am not about to suddenly announce that electricity has ruined society.
My phone is useful. My laptop is useful. Google Maps has probably prevented me from ending up somewhere in rural Jamaica asking a goat for directions.
So when I became interested in analog living, I wasn’t trying to escape modern life. I just started noticing how easily screens had become the default answer to almost everything.
Bored? Phone.
Waiting? Phone.
Eating? Phone.
Supposedly relaxing after spending the entire day on a computer? Excellent. Time to stare at a smaller computer.
That was the part I wanted to change.
Analog living, at least for me, is less about rejecting technology and more about deliberately bringing physical experiences back into everyday life. It is choosing things I can touch, make, hear, write, cook, build or experience without needing a notification halfway through.
Start Where Your Life Already Feels Too Digital
I don’t think anybody needs to dramatically redesign their entire life on Monday morning.
Instead, pay attention to the places where technology has quietly become automatic.
If breakfast now includes twenty minutes of scrolling, try eating first.
If every evening automatically becomes Netflix, YouTube or social media, choose one night where you do something else.
Read a physical book. Write something down. Cook slowly. Play music and actually listen to it. Sit outside. Work on something with your hands.
None of these activities are particularly revolutionary, and that is exactly why they work.
An analog life is usually built from ordinary habits rather than dramatic declarations.
You can read instead of scroll.
You can write in a notebook instead of opening another app.
You can listen to an album from beginning to end instead of allowing an algorithm to jump through twenty different moods before dinner.
You can take photographs simply because you want to remember something, not because the picture needs to perform for anybody online.
And yes, you can sit somewhere and do absolutely nothing productive.
That one may require advanced training.
Build Around Things You Actually Enjoy
This is where I think analog living can become unnecessarily performative.
If you hate journaling, you do not suddenly need twelve leather-bound notebooks because somebody arranged them beautifully beside a cup of coffee on Pinterest.
If gardening makes you miserable, your journey toward a calmer life probably should not begin with you angrily trying to keep basil alive.
Choose activities you genuinely like.
Maybe that means cooking.
Maybe it means records, books, drawing, writing, photography, puzzles, cards, walking, roller skating or fixing things around your home.
The best analog activity is one that becomes more interesting than reaching for your phone.
Start with one habit and give it space to become normal.
Then add another.
Eventually you may notice that the quieter parts of the day no longer feel like empty spaces you need to fill.
They begin to feel like your actual life.
Want to explore analog living with me? I’m looking at simple ways to spend more time experiencing life away from a screen—from creating a more analog home and finding things to do alone, to dates, hobbies and practical skills that are still worth knowing.
Analog Living: Learning to Spend More of My Life Offline
What Would You Bring Back?
Think about one part of your day that currently feels more digital than you want it to be and change only that first. You don’t need to disappear from the internet; you just need to make sure there are still parts of your life worth looking up from it for.
