Getting Off

(-Line, that is)

In the resolution spirit of a fresh New Year when it seems as if a blank slate (real or imagined) lies before us, might I try to inspire with the good intentions of committing to getting off(line) more in 2026? Despite my stop-shopping mantra, some of these ideas for a less screen-addled life do mention spending some minor moola, but in a unique and sustainable way (watch, journal cover, original art). Interspersed are quotes from a long thoughtful list by Mehret Biruk on “100 ways to spend more time offline.” Read his list, read this, and get outta here. Getting off in the traditional sense is also on the list.

May we together attempt the pursuit of a Happier New Year.

LEARN SOMETHING

Take a class, on anything new to you, or a hobby worth further honing. Here in the Hollow, we have the Hudson Valley Writers Center if you want to try your hand at poetry, humor-writing, fiction, or, coming up Jan. 10, an in-person workshop on “Clarity Through Creativity: A Workshop A Workshop for Crossroads, Questions, & New Direction with Jan Greenfield.”

Zwilling sells fine knives from their Pleasantville showroom, but they also have a demo kitchen and incredible cooking classes, like “From Rice to Roll: A Sushi Experience,” “Steakhouse Menu,” “Homemade Pasta,” or evening experiences that include eating the multi-course meal you cook for date night or girls’ night out, along with an array of opportunities to dabble in various cuisines (Filipino, Middle East, German, Indonesian, Moroccan).

And if your budget is zero, try your local library (more below). Our Warner Library gathers a monthly writing peer group, a chess club, and often all-age craft classes that include the materials you need to leave with a piece such as bracelet or earrings.

Cook without a recipe. Trust yourself enough to know how to make a simple meal using your senses and a dash of common sense.

TELL TIME

I heard a teacher say on NPR—which was no big surprise since I witness the same with my girls—that kids don’t know how to tell time anymore. Now that they don’t allow phones in New York state classrooms (thank you Gov. Hochul!), the kids don’t know their whens. Well, there’s a big round clock on the wall, the teacher points out. But they are confounded by its multiple hands and complicated configurations. If they learned to tell old-school time many years ago, they’ve forgotten. So a refresher course is in order.

Everyone, I think, would benefit from having a watch so you don’t have to open up the Pandora’s box of a whole “smart” phone with all its bleeps and treats when all you really need is a quick time check. Remember watches? There are so many that would be so much fun to wear.

Such as this color wheel one on Etsy, or this steam punky pocket watch with an engraved back and wooden box, a watch ring, watch bracelets, or a pair of retro Swatches.

You don’t need to be a kid to admit you may not be the most comfortable with analog. Here’s a refresher that won’t make you feel childish from Lifehacker.

Never look at your phone in a situation where it wouldn’t be appropriate to read a book.

PLAY GAMES

Declare one night a week game night in your household. Sometimes some friends host these at our Writers Center. One of my favorite memories from my youth involved my crazy family experiencing some minor moments of calm by doing just that. I got the inflated idea at the age of 10 or so that I was great in Trivial Pursuit and Scrabble, which the rest of the gaming world hasn’t accepted since they are better at these trivial pursuits than my parents and brother. Oh well.

My kids just taught me a card game I never knew called “Oh Hell,” which was more fun than I expected (and fast) as you just do 10 rounds after a bit of a technical climb in learning the rules. When we were cabin-camping this summer, they also had to teach me Gin Rummy because I don’t remember anything from my childhood (except Scrabble). We enjoy Uno, Bananagrams, Pictionary, Clue—oh hell we’ll even sink each other’s battleships (especially after recreating one long-lost submarine with our 3D printer). I try to get everyone onboard with assembling actual puzzles but that’s pushing it, Mom.

“Sell your cleverness and embrace bewilderment.” - Rumi

MAKE CARDS

My daughters are used to making cards for every occasion since their first daycare Valentine’s Day and churning out 30 each with the ends of a celery bunch serving as a paint stamp, so much so that it’s just become a reflex. This time of year while buried in the post-gift piles, we are fashioning a round of thank-you cards. Channeling the practice of gratitude into the form of a handmade card that gets sent with stamp in the actual mail is a beautiful tangible gesture to both send and receive. These girls are really skilled at these cards; I cannot compete.

A life, according to cards given and received.

Commit to single-tasking.

TALK TO STRANGERS

Many items on Mehret’s list encourage the lost art of outreach. Leave the phone at home (or at least in your bag) and while walking around town observe, with head up and ears unplugged, the tiny wonders of the universe. Smile at strangers. Interrupt a chain of texting happening in real time with an actual call. Remember phone calls? Visit someone you miss. Invite people to plans you’ve already made. Everyone’s bandwidth is so depleted and benumbed that when you buy a pair of tickets to a concert or aforementioned cooking class and just invite them to your existing plans, it will be such a welcome surprise.

Not only smile at that stranger but initiate a conversation. My kids, in the full throes of massive teen embarrassment over everything their weird mama does, are mortified by this habit of mine of being friendly. I guess for a shy girl I can seem brave and verbose with people I don’t know. It’s my curiosity and aversion to small talk that leads me. I can ask anyone anywhere a probing personal question, perhaps thanks to being a reporter for years. Often this will spark the most interesting conversations and epiphanies. People are hungry to talk, I try to tell my kids; they want to be asked, and then they really love being heard.

Be the crazy one.

WRITE YOUR LIFE

In bed, without devices (more on that below), I read, meditate, journal, dream, sleep. The new journal I was gifted for Christmas says “Inspire” on the cover and in it I am focusing on trying to recapture dreams when they are still intact like bugs in amber under the glaze of not quite being awake. My dreams lately have been especially bonkers, perhaps because I’m in the habit of trying to remember them.

Then there’s the whole series of composition notebooks I have amassed through the years (my brain database) since I bought this sort of “life-changing” leather journal cover advertised here. I buy a stack of college-ruled composition notebooks when they are on sale before Labor Day for less than a buck each and then insert them one by one all year long into a nice black leather cover. I have carried this precious/unprecious combo around with me everywhere I go for decades. In it, is everything. All my ideas, all my lists, all my to-dos, plans, budgets, stories, thoughts, snippets. It’s more than a journal, it’s my world.

“Instructions for Living a Life: Pay attention. Be astonished. Tell about it.”— Mary Oliver

LOVE THE LIBRARY

I can’t say enough about the greatest treasure in most any community: the public library. It’s our richest national resource and I hope we continue to treat it right. My local library, the Warner, has all the free books of course (or a network to transfer them to you if they don’t), but also free classes, language lessons, concerts, author readings, devices on loan, packets of seeds to take in the spring, a massive iron Gates of Hell-esque front door, and rotating glass displays of some hoarder’s odd collectables. I still borrow DVDs (this holiday season showing at my house: It’s a Wonderful Life, A Christmas Story), and roam the aisles and librarians’ special selection displays to discover new authors. As a kid, I used to go as far as starting with A and moving onto B, but now in my 50s, life feels too fleeting for alphabetical. Still, what wonders live here. Not to mention, free passes to visit excellent sites in the region like Mohonk Preserve and Storm King.

Keep a device-free bedroom. If you are bored, read a book or do crosswords, and if you are lucky, have sex and cuddle.

SUPPORT THE ARTS

I admire my friend Kersten Harries’ unique premise of a CSA for art on Substack, designed to get people offline more than on, like a Harry and David Fruit of the Month Club but with her original paintings.

By joining her Substack as a paid subscriber, you (or the person you want to gift this too) will receive not words via email but a 5x7 print monthly of one of her original watercolor paintings by snail mail. I can’t wait to receive my first.

This is an experiment, to help get me outside and painting more regularly again, and hopefully will spread a little joy into the world via snail mail, possibly inspiring the receivers to pause and enjoy nature or make art themselves.

This concept has me brainstorming new ways I can use this platform to get people engaging with the real world, like my Show and Tell series, next upcoming date in the springtime TBD.

Self-medicate with art

It’s ironic of course to use the medium to critique the medium, but if you won’t answer my calls how else can I reach you?

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