Time Outdoors: Natural remedies for digital fatigue

Sometimes I feel there is a battle being waged between the age-old, slower rhythms of the natural world and the fast-paced digital algorithms delivered via our smartphones.

I fear we are being pulled away from the former, toward the latter. Less connected to the physical, natural order of things, and drawn to the limitless digital data a click away.

Looking out the window and watching a flock of winter bluebirds in the yard is real. They are communicating and interacting and finding food and being just what they are. There is no manipulation of their behavior, other than the in-the-moment realities of what is before them. The purity of something this simple is breathtaking. Too often, we miss the beauty of these moments by filling our downtime with screentime.

Our devices flood us with data that is changing and shifting to reinforce the behavior that caused us to swipe the phone open. By triggering a dopamine release, digital interactions incentivize us to engage more frequently. Dopamine does not cause happiness; it rewards behavior with a temporary fix of pleasure, so we repeat the behavior to feel it again. This builds the compulsion to check our phones often.

Fixing the quick fix

This data can be stressful to take in. Storm clouds threaten the bedrock of our democracy. Socioeconomic forces collide with unknown outcomes. Civil unrest and political strife are custom-delivered, 24/7. Unplugging is necessary but can feel risky because of what’s at stake. We are drawn to these hits of endorphins via information customized to keep us interested. As this circle deepens, social isolation and stress often result. 

How can nature play a restorative role in breaking these patterns? How can face-to-face human interactions or moments of quiet thinking stand up to quick-fix digital addiction?

I admit to being on my phone way too often. I do not have all the answers, but I am trying to limit screen-based stimuli. A recent Tuesday morning offers an example.

Every month or so, a “Conservation and Climate Coffee” is held at 7:30 a.m. at town offices on Keyes Road. This month, the invite included a quote from John Muir that read, “In February, let nature be your guide and find solace in its beauty and rhythm.” This struck me, and I decided to attend.

After parking, I purposefully left my smartphone in the car. This is unusual, because grabbing my keys and phone is instinctive muscle memory these days.

The meeting was packed, and I was aware of how different it felt to be in the room while unable to fill any downtime with a quick hit of distraction. I felt more present and aware. Voices and inflection seemed crisper.

Opening the forum

Natural Resource Director Delia Kaye and other employees gave updates on various conservation-related initiatives, and then, as is the custom of the meeting, everyone in the room got a chance to briefly share what was on their mind, one at a time.

A speaker mentioned the upcoming Acton Climate Action Network series on composting, and a vibrant discussion ensued. Someone spoke about an event to commemorate the history of Heywood Meadow and how it was saved from development. A winter seed-sowing event and bird walk at Great Meadows Wildlife Refuge were presented. An update on the felling of trees at Hanscom and the hangar expansion was covered, as was a course on bequeathing open land via estate planning from UMass. Also announced were an initiative to make Acton more bike-friendly and the Land Trust’s successful conservation of 30 acres of land off Lowell Road. Those who did not choose to speak simply stated their name and “here listening.” 

When my turn came, I was moved to speak about the unique format of the meeting itself and how impressive it was to be in the company of so many informed and involved conservation-minded Concordians. The meeting was a catalog of real action being taken by real people to address real environmental problems — in person and face to face. Literally the opposite of doomscrolling. It was invigorating. I am not sure I would have felt what I felt or said what I said if I had been distracted by my smartphone.

‘No phones upstairs’

Something we have successfully implemented in our house is a “no phones upstairs” rule. This does not have to be enforced because it is so obviously beneficial. Reading in bed on a cold winter night before going to sleep is one of life’s great pleasures. I doubt I would have the discipline to crack a book if my phone were within reach.

Purposefully leaving our devices behind when we walk together is another trick my wife and I have started. It becomes apparent how distracting text alerts are when you are phone-free even for a 20-minute stroll in the woods. 

Studies have shown that reducing phone use can lower anxiety and stress, improve mood, and allow your brain to rest and recharge. Without the constant alerts and temptation to check your device, mindfulness and awareness of your surroundings increase.

The rhythm and beauty that Muir describes cannot be altered by AI, and no algorithm exists to adjust how the interconnected natural world presents itself. In these stressful times, nature’s example can play a role in helping us all to unplug and reduce digital fatigue. So can just being together with others, in a room, in this town we all love.

So, until next month, I hope you notice the bluebirds in your yard and “let nature be your guide” if you spend Time Outdoors with your family. Try leaving your smartphone behind when you do.

Wilson Kerr lives in Acton and is an avid outdoorsman and amateur naturalist. This monthly column is written to help grow awareness of the wonders of nature. In this increasingly fast-paced and technology-packed world, it is important to stop and take in the beauty of our area and the animals that inhabit it. The author hopes this column will be read by families and used as a teaching tool and that you will spend more … Time Outdoors.