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Introduction
This Memorial Day weekend, I’m heading to Joshua Tree, excited to disconnect and spend time with friends in one of the most offline places in America. One of the greatest marvels of National Parks is their ability to preserve quiet spaces, free from the digital noise that fills so much of daily life. These landscapes invite us to slow down, let our minds wander, and simply exist in the moment.
But the true magic of stepping away from screens isn’t the solitude, it’s the value of real memories. Not the fleeting kind that scroll past in an instant, but the ones that stay with you, woven into your life experience, carried wherever you go. The best part of living in the offline world is being able to say, “I was there.” Not for the sake of a photo-op, but because the experience was unforgettable.
By now, we’ve all seen the picture of crowds on New Year’s Eve with phones raised, “recording the moment.” They captured it, but they didn’t live it. Most probably don’t remember the burst of fireworks overhead or the way confetti drifted through the air. All they have is a video tucked away in their gallery. A file they haven’t watched, shared, or thought about since.
Today, I want to encourage two simple ways to break free from the screen and start experiencing life in real time.
Turn Your Phone Off
Whether you have a smartphone or a dumbphone, turning it completely off is the easiest way to be fully present and create lasting memories. In his upcoming book Unplug, Richard Simon shares his story and others' experiences of choosing to live offline by default. He turned off his phone for an entire year and encourages others to embrace a similar approach. While committing to a year without a phone may not be realistic for most, a weekend or even 24 hours dedicated to memory-making is re-energizing.
At first, shutting down your phone can feel daunting. We instinctively worry about emergencies or missing something important. However, these concerns rarely materialize. Instead of being caught up in notifications, you can be immersed in real experiences, such as paddle boarding, climbing, or simply wandering through the city with no distractions. In those quiet moments—when boredom sets in—the mind has the space for self-reflection and creative thought, something increasingly rare in our overstimulated world.
As Johnny Harris pointed out in his latest video on boredom1, silence and disengaging from constant stimulation don’t hinder creativity, they unlock it. This weekend, or sometime this summer, challenge yourself to power down and experience the benefits of living offline.
Embrace Slow
Our world moves fast: instant photos, quick videos, endless scrolling. Thus, to focus and savor memories, we should prioritize slowing down. Using film, painting, or any medium that forces you to be deliberate helps you immerse in the moment instead of catching it. When you shoot on film, you don’t have unlimited retries or filters to perfect the shot. You frame it carefully, adjust the settings, and wait for the final image to develop. That patience makes each photo feel real2, like it holds weight instead of just another file lost in the cloud.
The same goes for painting, sketching, or even journaling. In addition, reading a book’s physical copy is one of those forgotten joys that encourages us to embrace a downshift. These aren’t things you can rush. You have to slow down, observe, and let the process unfold naturally. Sketching a busy city street, painting a quiet sunset, or molding clay by hand force you to engage in ways digital tools simply can’t replicate. You notice the tiny details, the way light moves, the messiness.
Beyond that, these slower, tactile experiences bring something digital never can. The click of a film shutter, the texture of canvas, the scratch of a pencil on paper—they remind us that creativity isn’t the final product. It’s the process that enamors us. When everything else feels fleeting, embracing vintage methods keeps us grounded. It makes sure we’re actually living in the moments we want to remember.
Conclusion
This could be the summer you turned your phone off.3 The summer of laughter with family. The summer that you can say: “I was there and it was awesome!” I hope your summer is filled with stories to tell, not reels to share on the WhatsApp group.
A good video on the matter of dopamine and boredom:
And expensive. Film ain’t cheap y’all.
Yes, this is a play on “The Summer I Turned Pretty” haha.
Thank you José! It is one of your best posts in my opinion and inspires me to write down my memories instead of taking a picture.
I loved this! I just came back from a holiday with my friends where I turned my phone off for most of the holiday. I felt so present, it was great to get a break (and I usually have very good boundaries with my phone anyway)