What I Experienced When I Cut Down on Screen Time
“Like obedient children, do not act in compliance with the desires of your former ignorance but, as he who called you is holy, be holy yourselves in every aspect of your conduct” (1 Peter 1:14-15).
In recent years, I have noticed that screen time has become a crutch for me. I was spending more time than I was willing to admit on my phone or computer, but this past Lent, I finally committed to seriously trying to change that. I adhered to a Lenten promise to limit the use of my personal electronic devices.
Given the nature of my job (leading a computational genetics research team with many members working remotely), I spend the vast majority of my working hours in front of a monitor. And as many in leadership positions can relate to, “working hours” rarely mean Monday to Friday, 9 to 5. Outside of work — aside from my husband — my family and most of my friends live hours away, so phone or text is our primary mode of communication. I am fortunate that endless scrolling through social media has never been much of an issue for me up to now, but regardless, extensive use of my personal devices has been a hurdle.
Although one can easily set screen time limits on devices and turn off notifications, during Lent, I turned off my phone and computer after a certain time each day. Yes, that's right, completely powered off (not silent or airplane modes) to avoid the temptation of checking notifications after my set electronics curfew.
Here’s what I learned.
We Can Do Hard Things
At first, I didn't think that I'd be able to restrict my phone and computer use. Earlier, when I thought about cutting back on screen time, I always came up with an excuse. What if an unexpected work priority arose at any hour, any day, requiring my immediate attention? Yet, once I gathered the courage and committed to reducing the use of my devices (and made it successfully past Ash Wednesday!), I realized that my goal for the Lenten season was possible.
Some days were easier than others. There were days when I had my personal electronic devices on for a fraction of my set maximum time, while on other days I reluctantly powered them off at the end of my predetermined limit. However, I am happy to report that my promise was a success.
With this year’s Lent now behind me, what is next? My goal was never to maintain a strict (for my standards) screen time limit beyond this season. Rather, thanks to my Lenten promise, I was able to reduce my reliance on my personal electronic devices. Now, I self-assess every so often to ensure I still have them in check.
Certainly, we've all heard, read or watched stories on the benefits of limiting our dependence on our phones. From my Lenten experience, I can attest to the breadth of positive outcomes on one's well-being in all aspects, from physical to emotional, from personal to interpersonal. I felt less anxious. My creativity flourished. I responded to messages received overnight the following morning, and nothing bad happened. I slept better. I had more opportunities for quality time. Doing chores around the house felt less like actual chores. And the list goes on. But writing about the benefits of reducing screen time is not the purpose of this article.
I wanted to use the Lenten season to address a go-to behavior or habit that needed reforming. For me, that was the use of small electronics at all hours of the day. Despite my excuses to rationalize their prominence in my day-to-day life, it was only when I admitted that I was letting them dictate too much of my time that I was finally able to work to rectify that.
Challenge Yourself to Make a Change
Take my experience as a challenge to carefully evaluate and identify the comfort or security blankets, or the crutches, that have popped up in your life at the moment. Maybe they have been there for a while, or perhaps they are new additions to your routine. Once identified, I urge you to make the first concrete steps to implement change.
You don’t need to wait until New Year's Day, Ash Wednesday, your birthday, the first day of the month, or whichever future timestamp that seems suitable. After all, there is no time like the present.
Sarah Gagliano Taliun is a genetics professor with many interests in addition to studying DNA. She and her husband now call Montreal home. When she is not reading a scientific article or meeting with students, Sarah can be found experimenting with new recipes in the kitchen, reading her Bible or taking a walk in nature.