How To Unplug & Reclaim Peace In A Busy World

Your phone is someone else’s agenda.

I woke up last week and wondered—where did the time go? Well, if you ask my screen time, it went to scrolling, inbox pings, and Googling things that served no purpose and added no value to my life. My thumb did its little dance before my brain had a chance to wake up.

I caught myself doing pointless things—notifications layered over to-do lists, reaching for my phone before my eyes were even open. It was muscle memory at this point.

And that’s when it hit me: I didn’t want to be “always on” anymore.

I’d had enough of being so available to everyone else and their agendas. When you think about it, every ping, every alert, every “don’t forget this sale ends soon” email—it’s all someone else’s plan for your time. It’s rarely about what you actually need. The constant connectivity is soaking up years of our lives.

So, I decided to do something radical: unplug.

Not forever, not dramatically—just for a few hours each day. No notifications. No background soundtrack. Just me, my thoughts, and the world around me.

The first few days were uncomfortable, like trying to fall asleep in a silent house when you’ve lived next to a freeway your whole life. But then something shifted.

I started to hear again—the gentle whoosh of wind through my window, the rhythmic click of my dog’s nails on the floor as she chased her toy, the faint thwack of a baseball being hit in the distance. Even the sound of my own breathing—slow, steady, human—felt like something new.

It reminded me of Italy.

The Mediterranean has a way of teaching you how to be still without guilt. In Italy, there’s a phrase: dolce far niente—the sweetness of doing nothing. But it’s not really about doing nothing. It’s about being present.

It’s that morning coffee enjoyed slowly in the sun—the warm ceramic of the cup against your hands, the aroma wrapping around you like a soft blanket. It’s watching the light ripple across the sea and realizing you don’t have to rush to fill every moment.

In Italy, “doing nothing” is actually doing something essential—it’s refilling your soul.

Here in Los Angeles, though, time feels different. It’s slippery. The city hums with energy that demands your undivided attention. It’s a rat race—who can get the furthest, what have you accomplished, how much money can you make? It never stops.

And your phone doesn’t help. One minute you’re answering an email, the next you’re deep in a scroll hole looking at someone else’s vacation photos, and before you know it, the sun has set—and your brain feels like it did something, even though it didn’t.

I used to think rest was something I had to earn. Like if I worked hard enough, checked off enough boxes, then maybe—just maybe—I’d deserve a quiet evening or a slow morning. But unplugging has taught me that rest isn’t a reward; it’s a requirement.

Since my kids left for college, I’ve been forced to make some life changes anyway—so why not start here? A few sacred hours a day with no screens, no pings, no pressure to perform.

Some days that means reading the book that’s been gathering dust on my shelf. Other days, it’s sorting through my child’s baby albums—the ones I’ve been meaning to organize for years but never “had time” for. Sometimes it’s literally doing nothing at all—sitting outside, sipping tea, and letting the sunlight warm my face.

Funny how I can do it effortlessly in Italy—lingering over lunch, talking with friends for hours, walking without a destination—and yet here, I have to remind myself to slow down.

The States have a way of structuring your days around productivity. It’s all about optimizing time, not savoring it.

But I’m starting to choose savoring.

Because when you unplug, you start to notice the tiny things that make life rich—the smell of something baking in the oven, the texture of linen sheets when you climb into bed, the golden-hour glow that hits your kitchen walls just right. Those small, quiet luxuries that don’t cost anything but presence.

And here’s the secret: the world doesn’t fall apart when you step away. The emails wait. The posts wait. The people who really need you will still find a way to reach you.

What changes isn’t out there—it’s you.

You start showing up softer. More patient. More you.

So if you’ve been feeling that constant hum of burnout—that restless need to “check one more thing”—try giving yourself a few unplugged hours. Put your phone in another room. Close your laptop. Step outside. Feel the air on your skin, listen to the wind, notice the way the light moves.

You might be surprised by what you find waiting for you in the quiet.

8 Disciplined Habits to Help You Unplug (and Stay That Way)

Unplugging sounds simple—until you try it.

You tell yourself you’ll take a quick break from your phone, and five minutes later you’re knee-deep in your email, looking at a sale you didn’t need, checking a notification that didn’t matter. It’s a cycle that sneaks up on all of us.

But here’s the truth: unplugging isn’t about rejecting technology—it’s about reclaiming your attention. It’s a choice to protect your time, your peace, and your ability to be where you are.

These eight habits have helped me stay grounded, find stillness, and remember what life feels like when I’m not rushing from one notification to the next. Think of them as small daily disciplines—a Mediterranean way to unplug and reconnect with what’s real.

1. Set Digital Boundaries Early

If the first thing you see in the morning is a screen, you’ve already handed your peace away.

Start by unplugging from your phone for the first 30 minutes after you wake up. Leave it in another room and let your body wake naturally—open the curtains, stretch, make coffee, step outside if you can.

You’ll be amazed how different the morning feels when the first sound you hear is birds or the kettle boiling instead of pings. You’re not missing out—you’re actually catching up with yourself. I usually spend that time reading or practicing my Italian grammar.

💡 Getting started: Buy a simple alarm clock so your phone doesn’t sleep next to you. Keep it charging across the room or in the kitchen. That single shift transforms your morning energy from reactive to calm.

2. Schedule Screen-Free Hours Every Day

The only way to unplug consistently is to plan for it. Choose a few sacred hours each day—maybe during dinner, or the hour before bed—and make them screen-free. No exceptions, no “just checking.”

This isn’t punishment; it’s permission.

You’re giving your mind time to reset, your eyes time to rest, and your nervous system time to remember what peace feels like.

In Italy, people linger over dinner for hours—talking, laughing, eating slowly. That’s their natural way to unplug. I started unplugging at 8 p.m.—my kids are set as emergency contacts, so if they call, it still rings, but otherwise all notifications stay silent in another room.

💡 Getting started: Put your phone on “Do Not Disturb” from 7–9 p.m. or during meals. Let friends and family know that’s your “unplug window.” Protect it like you would an appointment—with yourself.

3. Keep Your Phone Out of Reach

Out of sight, out of mind. When your phone is always within reach, it becomes an extension of your hand—and eventually, your thoughts.

Try leaving it in another room when you’re cooking, cleaning, or working. You’ll notice your brain relax in ways it hasn’t in a while. It’s a quiet kind of freedom.

When you unplug physically, you also unplug mentally. You stop reaching for distraction and start reaching for presence.

💡 Getting started: Set a small “unplug station” in your home—a basket or drawer where your phone goes during dinner, reading, or creative time. Make unplugging a visual, physical act.

4. Start a New Hobby You’ve Always Wanted to Try

Unplugging isn’t just about turning off—it’s about turning toward something that brings value back into your life. A hobby gives your mind a place to land when it’s not being pulled by a screen. It helps you reconnect with curiosity, creativity, and the satisfaction of making or learning something purely because it interests you.

Hobbies are more than leisure; they’re medicine for a restless mind. They reduce stress, sharpen focus, and even rewire your brain to handle boredom and stillness more peacefully. Whether it’s painting, gardening, playing guitar, or baking, hobbies teach patience—something technology often takes away.

If you’re unsure where to begin, think about the kind of value you want to create:

Creative Value
- Writing, cooking, photography, interior design, or pottery let you make something tangible. You see progress, you hold it, you share it.
Physical Value
- Activities like hiking, yoga, or cycling restore energy and release tension built up from sitting and scrolling.
Intellectual Value
- Learning a new language, taking a local class, or studying art or history keeps your mind challenged and growing.
Emotional Value
- Journaling, playing an instrument, or volunteering give your emotions a healthy outlet and sense of connection.

Your unplugged hours can become your most productive time—not in the “work” sense, but in the way they build self-worth and inner peace. When you use that space to create, learn, or restore, you begin to realize that stillness isn’t empty—it’s full of possibility.

Getting started:

List three areas you want to grow in: creative, physical, or emotional.
Pick one hobby that supports that area—something small and realistic you can do weekly.
Set aside one unplugged hour to practice it—no guilt, no multitasking.
Reflect afterward: ask yourself what you learned or created that didn’t exist before that hour.

When you look back, those quiet, hobby-filled hours will become proof that unplugging doesn’t waste time—it multiplies it, turning your free moments into a well of calm, skill, and satisfaction.

5. Read More

Reading is the ultimate unplug. It’s not just an escape—it’s a return. A way to slow your thoughts, strengthen your focus, and reconnect with imagination in its purest form.

When you read, you’re training your brain to do what technology rarely allows: to linger. To sit with an idea long enough for it to unfold. That slow pace—page by page, line by line—rebuilds attention span, patience, and empathy. It also quiets mental noise in a way that scrolling never can.

Books give you perspective. They stretch your mind beyond your current world and remind you how big life really is. One moment, you’re in the kitchens of Tuscany; the next, you’re inside someone else’s story, seeing through their eyes. That’s what reading does—it reawakens your curiosity about people, places, and ideas.

If you’ve fallen out of the reading habit, start small. Choose stories or topics that genuinely interest you, not ones that feel like homework. Fiction helps you imagine again; memoirs ground you in truth; cookbooks, travel guides, and poetry reconnect you to beauty and ritual.

Try swapping one nightly scroll session for twenty minutes with a book. That single shift changes the entire rhythm of your evening—it slows your breathing, relaxes your nervous system, and signals to your brain that it’s time to rest.

Reading also creates value beyond the moment. It deepens your knowledge, strengthens your vocabulary, sparks creativity, and even improves how you write and speak. You begin noticing connections in everyday life—ideas linking across time, history, and experience.

Getting started:

Choose something that truly interests you. Don’t chase trends—pick a subject, author, or style that excites you.
Create a ritual around it. Light a candle, pour tea, or play soft instrumental music while you read.
Make it easy to access. Keep a book in your bag, by your bed, or on your coffee table so it’s the first thing you see when you want to unwind.
Set small goals. Ten pages a night, one chapter a week—whatever feels doable. Consistency matters more than speed.
Journal what you learn or feel. A few lines about what resonated helps the ideas sink in and turns reading into reflection.

When you dedicate unplugged time to reading, you’re not disconnecting—you’re deepening. You’re inviting your mind to expand, your imagination to wander, and your soul to rest in a world that finally moves at your pace.

6. Move Your Body

Exercise pulls you back into the present moment. Whether it’s a walk, yoga, or dancing in your Movement is one of the simplest and most effective ways to return to the present moment. When you move, you reconnect your mind and body—the two parts of yourself that screens quietly separate. Whether it’s a walk, yoga, stretching, or dancing in your kitchen, movement releases the static energy that builds up from sitting, scrolling, and absorbing constant information.

The goal isn’t to “work out” in the traditional sense—it’s to move in ways that remind you you’re alive. A walk at sunset, the feeling of grass under your feet, a deep breath of morning air—these small rituals reset your nervous system and quiet your mind far more than another hour online ever could.

When you unplug and move, you start noticing the world again: the sound of your footsteps, the rhythm of your breath, the warmth of sunlight on your skin. Physical activity becomes a kind of meditation—steady, rhythmic, grounding. It’s no coincidence that people in the Mediterranean live long, healthy lives; their movement isn’t forced. It’s woven naturally into their days—walking to the market, tending to a garden, climbing stairs instead of elevators, talking as they stroll through town squares.

Movement also unlocks creativity. Some of the best ideas come when you’re walking, not staring at a screen. Your mind untangles itself in motion, letting thoughts flow freely. That’s why so many writers, artists, and thinkers swear by walking as part of their daily practice—it’s thinking with your whole body.

You don’t have to commit to a full workout routine or buy fancy gear. Start where you are. If you’ve been sitting most of the day, stand and stretch. Take a slow walk around your block. Dance for one song. The point isn’t perfection—it’s presence.

Getting started:

Build small rituals of movement into your day. Take the stairs, walk while you talk, stretch between tasks.
Schedule a daily “unplugged walk.” Ten to twenty minutes without headphones or distractions—just you, your thoughts, and the world around you.
Explore joyful movement. Try a dance class, hiking trail, or yoga flow that feels good, not punishing.
Connect it to your environment. If you live near the beach, walk along the shore; if you’re in the city, stroll through a park. Let your surroundings set the pace.
Reflect afterward. Ask yourself how your body feels, not just what it did. The goal is to feel reconnected, not accomplished.

Movement isn’t about burning calories—it’s about burning through the noise. It clears space for clarity, energy, and gratitude. The more you move, the more you realize that stillness doesn’t always come from sitting—it often begins when you take the first step.

7. Audit Your Diet

When you start unplugging, you realize how often screens shape what and how you eat. We scroll while snacking, eat at our desks, watch shows during dinner, and reach for convenience instead of connection. Unplugging gives you a chance to reset not just your mind—but your relationship with food.

Think of your diet the way you think of your attention: what you feed yourself determines how you feel. A mindful, nourishing diet creates calm, energy, and clarity—the very things that constant stimulation takes away.

When you eat while distracted, you miss the signals your body sends—hunger, satisfaction, even pleasure. But when you slow down and eat with presence, your food transforms from fuel into an experience.

The Mediterranean lifestyle thrives on this philosophy. Meals are never rushed. They’re shared, savored, and often prepared from scratch. Ingredients are simple—olive oil, fresh vegetables, whole grains, herbs, and fish—but full of flavor and life. There’s balance, not restriction. Food isn’t something to control; it’s something to celebrate.

Unplugged time is the perfect opportunity to reconnect with real food. Step away from processed snacks and rediscover what it means to eat intentionally. Shop at a farmer’s market. Cook your own meal. Notice how a tomato smells when it’s ripe, how olive oil glistens on your plate, how bread still warm from the oven feels in your hands.

When you give food your full attention, it gives something back—nourishment, joy, and peace.

Getting started:

Eat one meal a day without screens. No TV, no phone, no laptop. Just you, your food, and your thoughts.
Simplify your meals. Focus on real ingredients—vegetables, fruits, whole grains, olive oil, nuts, and fish. Keep it colorful and fresh.
Cook more often. Even one homemade meal a week shifts your connection to what you eat.
Practice mindful eating. Take smaller bites. Chew slowly. Notice the textures and flavors.
Hydrate with intention. Start your day with water or herbal tea before coffee—it signals care to your body.
Savor rituals. Set the table, light a candle, pour a glass of wine or sparkling water. Treat your meal as a moment, not a task.

Your unplugged hours can become a sanctuary for your health—time to feed your body what it actually needs instead of what’s most convenient.

Because when you nourish yourself well, you think clearer, rest deeper, and move through life with more balance. The quiet you’re craving isn’t just mental—it’s physical too.

8. Practice Your Faith (or Personal Reflection)

Unplugging creates space not just for silence, but for something sacred. When the noise falls away, you begin to hear what’s been waiting beneath it—your own voice, your intuition, and whatever you consider divine.

Faith and reflection come in many forms. For some, it’s prayer or scripture. For others, it’s journaling, walking in nature, or simply watching the sunrise. What matters isn’t the form—it’s the intention. These moments of stillness reconnect you to something larger than yourself and remind you that peace doesn’t always have to be earned; it can be received.

In the Mediterranean, faith and reflection are woven into daily life. You see it in small rituals—the lighting of a candle, the ringing of church bells, the quiet pause before a meal. People stop, breathe, and acknowledge something greater than the moment. That rhythm of reverence gives life balance and meaning.

When you unplug, you give yourself permission to rediscover that same sense of reverence. To be grateful. To reflect. To ask questions. To listen for answers. You begin to understand that silence isn’t empty—it’s full of wisdom, if you’re still enough to hear it.

Your practice doesn’t need to look a certain way. It doesn’t require perfect words or a spiritual title. It can be as simple as closing your eyes, taking three deep breaths, and feeling the pulse of gratitude for what you already have.

Getting started:

Create a simple ritual. Light a candle in the morning or before bed. Let that act signal your transition from busy to still.
Practice daily gratitude. Write down three things you’re thankful for each day. Small, specific details work best—the smell of bread baking, the laughter of someone you love, the warmth of sunlight through a window.
Try mindful prayer or meditation. Set a timer for five minutes and focus on your breath, a phrase, or a prayer that brings peace.
Reflect without judgment. Journal your thoughts—not to fix them, but to see them clearly.
Connect with something greater. Whether that’s God, nature, art, or community—let it remind you that you’re part of something meaningful.

Your unplugged hours become sacred when you fill them with reflection. Faith—whatever it means to you—isn’t about perfection; it’s about presence. It’s the art of pausing long enough to notice that life itself is already a prayer.

Remember

Unplugging takes practice. It’s a discipline, yes—but it’s also a devotion. A way of telling yourself: I deserve to exist beyond the noise.

The world will always pull at you—emails, ads, deadlines, updates. But none of those things truly need you as much as you need your own peace.

So unplug often. Unplug without guilt. Unplug to breathe, to notice, to remember that life isn’t happening behind a screen—it’s happening all around you.As the Italians say, piano, piano—slowly, slowly. That’s how you find your way back to yourself.