When I reached the one thousandth unplugged hour , I imagined the story would be finished . I ’ d have completed a challenge , and it would be time to find another one to put in its place .
But here I am , standing well beyond the one-thousand-hour mark , and I can tell you a different truth than what I anticipated : This story is only beginning . There ’ s so much more to live and understand , so much more to uncover and learn as the unplugged hours stack higher and higher . Every time I think I ’ ve learned all that I can from the unplugged hours , another lesson emerges , ready for me to go deeper — something new that I never saw within myself when the phone was buzzing and the emails were pouring in at all hours .
It ’ s almost as if those first thousand hours set the foundation , and now I ’ m building upward — erecting frames , building walls , and dreaming about where all the furniture will go .
I ’ m a different person than I was when I turned off my phone for the first time . That time in my life was marked by a frenetic pace and the belief that there was never enough time .
“ I don ’ t have enough time ,” I said whenever I felt stressed or anxious , or when there was undoubtedly too much piled on my plate . But I ’ ve learned , through the steady rhythm of powering down , that the time was always there . All along , it was available — it was just waiting to be reclaimed . It was waiting for me to see that I had been putting it in the wrong places and had to learn to use it differently . So that ’ s what I did .
Since the unplugged hours began , there have been hours of presence and deep connection — interactions so rich and real , all of us there forgot to check our phones .
There have been hours of movement , of reading good books . Hours spent entertaining guests and cooking nourishing meals . There have been puzzles and walks and moments gathered around the table to drink life down deep with one another . There have been hours of seeking God , falling back in love with the rhythms of spirituality , praying in secret spaces , living more curiously , and creating new things — at the table , at the counter , at the desk in the corner of the room .
Hour by hour , I came back to life . I rediscovered the color that had faded from the picture . It feels like everything came back , even things I didn ’ t know were absent at first , but it all came back even better — like newer , upgraded models . Just a few minutes ago , as I was sitting here at my desk , I heard the front door swing open and closed . Curious , I left my chair and went downstairs to find Lane and Novalee sitting on the front porch , listening for crickets in the night air . Such a simple rhythm of peace that they savor together at least once a week . Years ago , I might have missed this . Tonight , I went out onto the porch and stood with them in the moment — I dug my heels down and stayed right in it .
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