Rebooting - How It Came About, Going Forward

Here’s how it happened…

For weeks—maybe months—the Facebook photography group I help administer had been more controversy than constructive conversation. Instead of thoughtful discussion, we were wading through flare‑ups, misunderstandings, and the kind of low‑grade friction that slowly drains the joy out of a community. 

Add to that the grim news coming out of Minneapolis, where I have family, plus the steady drip of disinformation that seeps into any feed no matter how many things you “hide” or “snooze.” It became clear. 

I needed to step away for a while.

Fortunately, the Facebook group has a terrific admin team, and I knew the group would not only survive but probably thrive in my absence. With that reassurance, I started planning a retreat from the noise.

Somewhere in that process, the idea expanded. Why not go beyond a social‑media break and try a full‑on digital detox—or at least as close as modern life allows? Email is email and still necessary from time to time, but I could reclaim a lot of mental space by changing my habits.

So I did:

1. I moved all the “media” apps off my home screens—Facebook, Instagram, Apple News, the New York Times. Out of sight, out of mind.
2. I unsubscribed from every newsletter, digest, and “daily summary” that had been quietly colonizing my attention.
3. I dug out some paper and a pen. (Remember when choosing the right pen felt like a small but meaningful pleasure?)
4. 
   Realizing I no longer had autocorrect or “look up,” I stopped by the local Goodwill bookstore and stocked up: Webster’s New World Compact Desk Dictionary, Webster’s Pocket Dictionary, the New York Library Desk Reference, and a gorgeous thumb‑indexed copy of Bartlett’s Roget’s Thesaurus. All for under $12. A small miracle.
5. And as if on cue, my sister had given me The Book of Alchemy for Christmas—a guide to journaling and reflection. Perfect timing.

With all that in hand, I set a few new rules for myself:

• Before touching a device with a screen, I read a book or magazine for at least 15 minutes.
• Immediately after breakfast (and coffee), I write in a paper journal for at least 15 minutes.

Nothing dramatic. Nothing punitive. Just small rituals to reclaim a bit of quiet and remember what it feels like to think without a glowing rectangle nearby.

What I’ve Noticed So Far

The surprising part isn’t how much I’ve missed. It’s how little.

The world didn’t fall apart because I wasn’t refreshing a feed. The group didn’t collapse without my constant vigilance, although I do miss the wonderful images posted and the thoughtful critiques that quite a few members were capable of. And the space that opened up — the mental quiet, the analog slowness — felt less like deprivation and more like oxygen.

I’m not swearing off technology. I’m not moving to a cabin in the woods. But I am rediscovering the pleasure of choosing what gets my attention, instead of letting the algorithms choose for me.

And for now, that feels like enough.

Rebooting My Place in the Digital World

For the past week, I stepped away from the glowing world of screens. The digital noise was making me feel like I was in a Kansas tornado, spinning like a top, being pulled in a thousand directions at the same time. 

So I went old school instead: notebooks, pens, thrift‑store dictionaries, and thoughts that didn’t need to be broadcast the moment they arrived. I eschewed electronics.

But the urge to share never really disappears. Humans are built for connection, and eventually I felt that familiar tug — not the frantic compulsion to post, but the quieter impulse to speak in my own voice and offer something honest to whoever wanders by.

So I’m dusting off this old blog. Same Chuck, better perspective. I’m not here to rejoin the churn; I’m here to re‑enter differently. Slower. Calmer. With more intention and far less angst.

Let’s see what’s up…