Phone fasting has become its own genre. Googling "social media break" netted 141 million results with headlines such as "7 Reasonable Reasons to Take a Break from Social Media."
After a hectic end-of-term 3 involving multiple deadlines, two children and their friends, activities and an exchange student, I craved time.
Every minute seemed spoken for, and if it wasn't, my kids filled it. Or I did - with short stints on Facebook, scrolling mindlessly, chewing up minutes I presumably didn't have.
Fate intervened by fiddling with my phone. The screen bounced, unprompted, from one app to the next.
Posting a status update would've required a tremendous amount of luck and pixie dust, neither of which I have with devices. I tried to text a friend to say I'd pick up the dog, but all I managed was, "B 7." Surely, she knew I was trying to say, "Be there at 7." Maybe she thought I was calling Bingo.
A family wedding prompted an Aussie holiday during the school break. I wrestled the kids from sportswear into most of a suit and a dress.
I wore a sundress, despite the evening's chill. Hubby shaved and donned his wedding suit. We didn't look half-bad and I wanted to show the world.
And yet ... that would require posting online and peeking under red notification bubbles. I haven't (yet) plastered proof of our family's style and togetherness on my timeline. A rare feat of cyber self-control, especially now we're home.
A book I recently finished called Deep Work by Cal Newport helped to inspire me to try one of those tech time-outs people post, meme and tweet about.
Newport argues most knowledge workers shouldn't squander time and talent on something as shallow as social media.
He makes exceptions for people such as deployed military personnel, who depend on online communities for connection to faraway loved ones. How about expats?
I didn't ban Facebook outright - Messenger use was okay, as was checking groups, to which I posted four photos. My rationale was these are forums where people organise activities I may want to take part in like running, weekends away and fundraising.
Feeling like a rebel. Cool (note: 'rebel' and 'cool' are two words my 13-year-old daughter says I'm not allowed to use).
Dawn's Aussie adventure - sans social media. Photos/Supplied
I spent two full days with my husband's family in Sydney's leafy northern 'burbs without scrolling anyone's timeline.
I got to know my lovely new sister-in-law, ate six meals a day and drank bottomless glasses of wine until they started giving me headaches.
The groom and his family rewrote lyrics to Queen's Bohemian Rhapsody: "Mama, just soaked a man/Put a watergun against his head/Pulled my trigger, now he's wet ..." We sang the song as the wedding's finale. I conquered the urge to tell my online circle.
Hubby returned to work. The kids and I flew to Brisbane. We "wowed" and "oh-my-goshed" about the view from our 27th-floor apartment.
It overlooked the muddy river, ferris wheel and Story Bridge, illuminated in different colours each night.
Dawn's Aussie adventure - sans social media. Photos/Supplied
The kids held a koala; we visited Movie World and toured museums. I marvelled at purple-petalled jacarandas in bloom; cheap petrol ($1.22/litre for regular unleaded); and the fact I bumped into another Papamoa runner by chance on the river trail.
The kids marvelled at South Bank's big playground and free outdoor pools.
I told none of this to my timeline audience, or the Twitterverse or Instagram. I did, however, send wedding, koala and one sweaty running pic to two Facebook groups.
I was present for this trip. I admired my children's gusto for walking 20,000 steps each day and still finding energy to climb atop Brisbane's metal art spheres (made of used vegetable steamers); We ate sushi on our terrace and rode the wheel at night; I ferried to a jazz club and met a UK construction project manager and mum of four who asked if she could friend me - on Facebook.
Time found me on holiday - not because we turned back the clock two hours in Sydney and another hour in Brisbane - and not because I wasn't working, either.
The social media break released me from a self-imposed duty of editing and posting photos and captions. I finished entire newspapers, even watched a bit of telly.
I felt smug about my social media diet until coming home to a phone call from my dad. He was ringing to wish Master 12 happy birthday.
"I tried all your numbers the past couple days," said Dad. "I was worried, but Kathe [his wife] said you were probably off on an adventure." I told him about our trip.
"I'd love to see your photos," said Dad. "Post them on Facebook."
