DIGITAL DETOX

"Switch off to switch on" – this phrase no longer sounds like a paradox. It is more like a lifeline in a world where screens have become our windows, mirrors, and walls all at once. The alarm clock falls silent – and the first thing we do is reach for our phone. Morning news, messages, social media, notifications... Before even getting out of bed, we are already immersed in the heart of digital noise. The day unfolds with the same rhythm: screens accompany us at work, on transport, at home – even in bed before sleep. We have become constantly connected – yet simultaneously disconnected: from ourselves, the present moment, and genuine dialogue.

Screen culture

Psychologists speak about "digital fatigue" and "information noise." People experience difficulty concentrating, anxiety without clear cause, insomnia, and exhaustion despite seeming inactivity. Social media algorithms, notifications, and endless newsfeeds are all designed to keep us engaged for as long as possible. Our brains receive microdoses of dopamine for every like, newsfeed update, or notification. This is not merely a habit; it is an addiction. We fear missing out on something important and in the process lose the most vital element: contact with ourselves. And children notice this.

When adults with phones in their hands disengage from the present moment, they set a quiet but powerful example. A mother answering texts at dinner or a father scrolling through the newsfeed instead of conversing becomes an image of adulthood that a child absorbs as normal. The digital addiction of adults becomes the gateway to children's addiction. This is how family screen culture forms, where silence becomes the norm and personal presence is replaced by scrolling.

If dinner is spent in the company of gadgets or on a walk where everyone is absorbed in their own screen – not only is a habit created but also a family ritual of detachment. The longer this continues, the more difficult it becomes to restore attentive presence and meaningful dialogue within the family.

However, adults can change the rules of the game. When a child sees their mother closing her laptop to be with them or their father putting away his phone to play a board game, this sends a strong signal – often stronger than any reprimand.

A child turns to screens because they respond immediately. Screens are fast, bright, and exciting. They never say "wait," never scold or look away into a phone as adults sometimes do. The screen becomes an interlocutor, babysitter, comforter, or friend. The less warmth and attention there is in reality, the more eagerly the child dives into the virtual world.

Parents often worry, "My child has completely gone into gadgets." But often the problem begins with the parent who "goes" there first. Silent dinners with phones in hand and family walks where everyone looks at their own screen all subtly create in the child the impression that live presence is unnecessary. If it is unnecessary, why seek it?

A child's digital addiction is not just a whim or weakness; it is a wake-up call indicating that something important is missing in reality. Perhaps a simple look in the eye; a question without irritation; shared activities without distractions. This is why it is important not to break down, forbid, or blame. A ban achieves nothing if there is no positive alternative behind it. Children cannot simply be pulled away from screens; they must be kept away because life outside is more interesting.

When a parent puts the phone aside and invites their child to play a board game, go for a walk, or bake together, the child feels: "I am important. I am interesting. I am being heard." It is this experience that displaces the screen. We need to bring rituals of intimacy back into homes – not mechanical routines but living rituals. Read together; discuss what you see; organise "weekends without phones" – not as punishment but as an adventure. Let there be resistance at first; let there be awkwardness – but beyond that lies opportunity.

A child quickly learns that real life is where people laugh, listen, and hug; where one can be bored, fantasise, build, make mistakes, and be oneself. The more such live moments fill a home, the less room there will be for addiction. Screens can do many things but they cannot love.

What is a digital detox?

Digital detox does not mean rejecting technology but rather reclaiming control over it. It means consciously stepping away from screens for an hour, a day, a weekend or a holiday. It is an opportunity to hear silence; to savour conversation without interruptions from notifications; to relearn how to look into each other’s eyes rather than camera lenses. Where to begin?

Switch off unnecessary notifications. Define "screen windows." For example, avoid your phone during the first and last hours of your day. Take a day off from social media – you will be amazed at how much free time you suddenly have. Setting your smartphone screen to black and white drastically reduces its "attractiveness." Replace scrolling with a walk; stories with books; endless feeds with silence.

This is not about banning screens but restoring balance.

And then what?

Many who try digital detox experience unexpected benefits. Sleep improves; clarity and calm return; interest in simple pleasures revives; and a sense of self-control grows. This is not an escape from the world but a return to it – real, rich, alive.

Conclusion

The digital environment is not an enemy but like any medium requires moderation. True freedom lies not in being constantly online but in choosing when to be offline. Try disconnecting – perhaps you will hear your own thoughts again. Most importantly, you may once more become an example of living presence for those learning how to live by watching you.