Screened Out

Three weeks into Lent, I'm grateful for the grace of remaining faithful to a practice I'm trying for the first time. As I spend my work days using my delightful laptop to create budgets, tweak narratives, and correspond with colleagues to accomplish the tasks of the grants office– with only occasional breaks to check Spring Training box scores– I'd noticed myself getting tired out by all that screen time. I found that, in the evenings, I maintained a decent discipline of replying to personal emails from friends in a timely manner, but also a tendency to fritter away time in a range of generally worthy endeavors– daily news trivia on NPR, the nuances of the weather forecast for the next morning's run, or the BBC's latest take on world news. So I made a bold declaration to myself for Lent, and shared it with a few friends to keep myself honest: no screen time after I leave work each day.

After three weeks of screenless evenings, I'm increasingly grateful for the wealth of refreshing activity I've been able to enjoy while my laptop sits closed and unpowered on my desk. I've found greater focus and intentionality in my prayer and my journaling. I've written and sent a number of letters of varying lengths. I've made my way with greater swiftness and closer attention through my two latest books– Bernd Heinrich's Winter World and Jared Diamond's Collapse. I've enjoyed countless cups of tea while indulging in these activities. Most of all, I've enjoyed a different experience of connectivity– be it with the written word, the divine voice, or the gentle tranquility that seems to attend my deep engagement with both.

With days lengthening, and the end of Standard Time about to bestow an extra hour of light upon expanding evenings, I can anticipate sustaining my "screened out" evenings into the spring, when I might even be able to haul a chair outside to read, write, or pray by the radiance of a good sunset.