Tag Archives: National Day of Unplugging

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Unite my heart

Yesterday, I was looking at some notes from a solitude retreat I took last August. At the time, I was feeling overcommitted and distracted, and I was trying to decide which of the good things in my life were helping me to glorify God by living a fulfilled life and which were not. So during the retreat (which took the form of a solo hike), I spent some time praying for focus and looking at scripture about having an undivided heart. Let me quote a few of the notes I took at the top of the mountain:

Today’s theme: asking God for focus. I feel like my mind is scattered among tasks and passions and I’m not giving my best to any of it (or truly enjoying any of it). I’ve often said that God’s promise of wisdom in James 1 is one of the only places in Scripture where God promises something without any qualification (e.g. You must be an Israelite). But that isn’t true–the qualification is that you must ask without doubting–“because he who doubts is like a wave of the sea, blown and tossed by the wind. That man should not think he will receive anything from the Lord; he is a double-minded man, unstable in all he does” (Jas. 1:6-8). (I didn’t do a very good job clarifying this in my original notes, but the key word there for my purposes is “double-minded.” God’s gift of wisdom comes to those who are single-minded.)

“Be thou my vision” = Be thou my focus?

This mountain is a good place to be thinking about perspective. The birds are flying below where I’m sitting right now.

Ps. 86:11–“Teach me your way, O LORD, and I will walk in your truth; give me an undivided heart, that I may fear your name.” (KJV–“Unite my heart to fear thy name.”)

Then follows a discussion of things I was going to quit and other things I was going to commit to instead (almost none of which really happened) and a list of things I needed wisdom about, most of which are no longer relevant (which I guess is an answer to prayer?).

This deep desire to be single-minded and united in heart, to be able to focus on one thing and stop my mind from racing down crossroads, is one reason–perhaps the greatest reason–why I decided to “quit everything” (the title, incidentally, of a Dawes song I’ve been thinking about a lot) and move to a new state where my only commitment, so far, is to my job (which is only three days a week this fall!). I’ve been describing this move as “hitting reboot on my life”–a cheesy metaphor, I know, but it’s what this feels like to me.

We’ve been talking about this united heart thing for a long time in Christian circles. I remember I used to feel so guilty when we would sing that song that goes “Give me one pure and holy passion, give me one magnificent obsession”–until I realized that the song is a prayer, not a declaration that we already have one pure and holy passion (“Hey, God. Check this out.”). But I think the secular world is also beginning to articulate the deep discomfort we feel when we are distracted, inattentive, and trying to justify our place in the world by showing all the different ways in which we can contribute. Lately, we have been seeing data about how multitasking is bad for productivity, studies about “flow” (the phenomenon, named by psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, of getting caught up in a fulfilling task), and radical suggestions for strategies like putting our phones away during face-to-face conversations. As is so often the case, the Bible gave us a really good idea thousands of years ago, and we’re just starting to get it.

I know that having a heart singly focused on God is not the same thing as eliminating distractions and getting in the zone while completing a fulfilling task. But the two confirm the same truth: We were created to serve one master, to do one thing really well, to have one ruling passion under which all of our other passions are ordered. We were created to have a united heart.

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National Day of Unplugging (i.e. hiding in the Forbidden Forest)

This week’s Hufflepuff leadership topic is what to do when you need to get away from people–either because you need to work on stuff or because you’re an introvert and being around people (even though you love them) exhausts you.  When asked how they create alone time and space, my two contacts at Hogwarts* had similar answers.  Muggle studies teacher and Hufflepuff alumna Becky Weasley said, “Well, it helps that I’m married to the Hogwarts gamekeeper.  Charlie and I have our own cabin a little ways away from the castle.  When I have a lot of grading to do, I work on it at home instead of in my office.  But when I really need to get away, I pack a picnic and conveniently get lost in the Forbidden Forest.  Charlie will always come find me eventually.”  Her nephew, Patrick, a seventh-year student and Hufflepuff prefect, said, “I like to be available to the first- and second-years when they have questions about school or are just homesick, but sometimes I have to get my own work done, you know?  So a lot of times, I’ll go next door to the kitchens and ask the house-elves not to tell anyone I’m there.  They usually give me some of whatever they’re cooking.  And in return, I help them clean up.  Or I’ll go visit my Aunt Becky and Uncle Charlie.  They usually feed me too.”  So, common themes seem to be 1) food and 2) hiding (like a badger in a burrow?).

But Muggle/No-Maj society presents an additional challenge that our Hogwarts friends don’t have to face: technology.  You can hide if you want, but if you have a phone, people can still find you.  (Unless you’re in the Forbidden Forest, where I hear that reception is really bad.)  Much ink (which here is a metaphor for digital text) has been spilled over the effects that smartphones have had on the American and European work week.  Now, our bosses, colleagues, and employees can find us anytime.  Some people, like me, avoid using their phones for email, but there’s still texting.  One curious consequence of this constant connectivity is a comparison game over who’s the busiest.  I’ve heard people in my organization brag about how many emails they get over the weekend.  “My boss starts emailing me Sunday night around sundown, and I can’t wait until Monday morning to respond to them [implied: because I’m too important to the company].”  I’m not saying this is any one person’s fault.  What we have not only in my organization but in our society at large is a culture of busyness.  And it’s not healthy.

Some Hufflepuff leaders (okay, I just made an assumption there) at an organization called Reboot have started an annual event called National Day of Unplugging.  I participated last year, and I’ve been looking forward to the 2018 event for months.  It’s simple: From sundown this Friday to sundown this Saturday, you keep your phone and other digital devices off.  (The resemblance to Sabbath is not an accident–Reboot is a Jewish organization.)  Of course, that’s if you want to be extreme (which I do).  Maybe for you, unplugging simply means you don’t check email or Instagram for that 24-hour period.  But in any case, you’re engaging in an act of radical freedom and humility–declaring that the digital world (which is not the whole world) can survive without you for 24 hours.

What does this have to do with leadership?  First, obviously, leaders themselves need a break.  But secondly, unplugging has a trickle-down effect.  When I step away from work for a day, I’m letting my employees and students know that it’s okay for them to do the same.

Will you be participating in the National Day of Unplugging?  Do you have other suggestions on this topic?  Let me know in the comments!

*These characters are both my own creations–see last week’s post.