Entering Digital Rehab: Grand Canyon, Part 1

My family and I just completed the trip of a lifetime: eight days rafting down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon. We camped on the side of the river, slept under the stars and a moon so bright I thought it was sunrise on the first night, hiked into stunning side canyons, danced under epic waterfalls, and jumped off 25-foot cliffs into the river. It was a magical family bonding moment. It was also insanely hot, exhausting, dirty, and took us well outside of our individual and family comfort zones. We met a few rattlesnakes, avoided meeting any scorpions (which were allegedly there), navigated hordes of nighttime bats, and negotiated a daily detente with ravens who stalked us for miles.

We loved almost every moment of it, and each of us had plenty of “I can’t wait to get home to my own bed” thoughts. We will never forget this experience.

(Not to worry dear readers… I have not forgotten that this is a business blog, not a travel journal. Here comes the pivot.)

The intent of this trip was an amazing family experience in a stunning national park. But the impact of this trip went well beyond the experience itself.

One of the unique elements of traveling in such a remote place is that you are completely detached from the rest of the outside world. There are no cell phone towers or wireless networks in Grand Canyon. As we packed the boats and launched on Day 1, our phones became nothing more than cameras: no access to email, texts, social media, news, sports scores… zero information or interaction with anything outside of our raft floating down the Colorado.

We had entered a digital rehab facility.

I take addiction really seriously and have experienced plenty of it in my network of friends and family. So I don’t make this connection lightly. But the overwhelming feeling I had over our days inside Grand Canyon was that we were essentially detoxing an addiction to technology. On many other vacations, I have always said I was going to “disconnect from work.” And occasionally I have been able to do that. But even when we choose not to read our work emails, most of us still have our devices with us. We still want to see texts from friends, check a sports score, follow the news or the stock market, download the latest podcast… even when we say we will “disconnect” that disconnection is usually only partial, and the temptation of checking news, scores, or social media is always available anytime you need a hit.

This disconnection was complete. It was forced. And it allowed for lots of reflection. So, a few thoughts to share:

Reflection #1: Being present. This is not new ground, and something I (and many others) write about all the time. But my perspective on it now is far more real. Yes, our devices arm us with piles of information and communication and contact with others. But they also rob us of connection with what is happening right in front of us. Our devices rob us of our ability to focus, to listen, to notice. We all know it, and we all are annoyed by it. But we all allow it to happen (more on this in a moment.) When we are NOT distracted by devices, there are countless things that we now have the bandwidth to notice. It might be something big and beautiful like a stunning moon rise. Or it might be a change in demeanor in a family member who is not feeling well, but unwilling to say it out loud. This happened with our daughter on the trip… she wasn’t feeling well, but didn’t want to ruin the trip by making a big deal out of it. So the signs that she was not on her game were subtle, and if Emily and I were distracted by our devices we might have missed the clues. God knows how many times we have missed such clues in the past…

Reflection #2: Found Time. I have my iPad set up to tell me how many hours I spend on it every week. And I usually take that data with a large grain of salt. Because a lot of that time is work-related. So I justify it in my mind. But the amount of time I spend on my devices every day is shocking. And on this trip, I got all of that time back. That time turned into more conversation, games, reading, and resting. I am not yet retired, so engaging with my work is still required. But I now have a much deeper appreciation for the gift of time that putting the devices down can provide.

Reflection #3: Our Digital Behaviors are Entirely Self-Inflicted. For some of us, the digital behaviors can be managed with more self-awareness and a few more guard rails. For others, the behaviors do venture into an addiction that is so pervasive that some other form of intervention might be necessary, from a family member, friend or colleague. But behaviors can be changed. The first step is realizing that a problem exists, and second is understanding and acknowledging the associated cost.

My family returned from this trip with a shared experience we will be talking about forever. And I returned with a much deeper appreciation of the cost of digital distraction. I have a list of intended behavior changes and am already working on implementing them.

I encourage similar reflection for each of you. Spend some time thinking about the cost of digital distractions, and how they impact you, your family and friends, and your colleagues and customers.

Good luck.

Next up: The Grand Canyon Diaries, Part 2