I tried a digital detox once. Threw my phone in a drawer. Logged out of everything. Even taped over my laptop camera like I was in some DIY spy movie. The first few hours were quiet. Too quiet. Like the eerie calm before a toddler smears peanut butter on the ceiling.
By day two, I found myself petting my TV remote like it was a comforting relic from a bygone era.
But here’s the thing: I didn’t miss Instagram. Or Twitter. Or even the endless sea of food videos that somehow always made me hungry at midnight. What I did miss? Choice. The freedom to do something unexpected. To click, scroll, laugh, discover.
It turns out, it wasn’t the platforms I craved—it was the possibility. The thrill of stumbling into something random yet delightful. Like signing up for a new class at 2 a.m. Or falling into a rabbit hole about the invention of Velcro. Or trying out an online casino just because the theme music slapped.
People love structure. But we don’t survive on routines alone. We live for surprise. For moments when we say, “Okay, that was random… but I’m into it.”
There’s a place for control. But there’s also joy in letting go.
A friend of mine planned her wedding like a military operation. Color-coded spreadsheets. Call times. Contingency plans for rain, wind, and distant thunder. But the memory everyone still talks about? When her dog stole a canapé and ran through the dance floor like he was in Mission Impossible.
No amount of planning could’ve produced that moment. It happened because life left room for it.
In our obsession with optimizing every second—habit trackers, morning routines, bullet journals—we’ve accidentally squeezed out spontaneity. We tell ourselves, Once everything is perfect, then I’ll relax. But that moment never arrives. Perfection is a moving target. Peace comes when we drop the bow and arrow.
This doesn’t mean giving up on goals. It means loosening our grip.
You don’t need to schedule joy. Sometimes it just shows up uninvited, wearing Crocs and bringing snacks.
I once ended up joining a pottery class because I was early to a dentist appointment and had time to kill. I walked in with zero expectations. Two hours later, I was up to my elbows in clay, trying to mold something that didn’t look like a sad pancake. It was ridiculous. Messy. Brilliant.
Spontaneity makes stories worth telling.
And yes, it can happen online, too.
That’s the part we forget. The internet isn’t just a productivity machine. It’s a playground. And no, I don’t mean doomscrolling or digital shopping cart confessions at 1 a.m. I mean letting your curiosity drive the wheel.
Like exploring new music genres from countries you can’t spell. Joining a book club with strangers. Getting absolutely schooled in trivia by an 11-year-old. Or poking around an online casino, not to gamble your savings away, but to experience something outside the norm.
It’s okay to try things that aren’t on your vision board.
And sometimes, the most freeing decision is to stop making decisions and just see what happens.
That doesn’t make you unfocused. It makes you human.
People always say, “Live in the moment.” Sounds great. But what does it mean?
It means looking up instead of down.
It means saying yes before your anxiety convinces you to say no.
It means making space—for laughter, for randomness, for the unscripted.
Our lives aren’t content calendars. We’re not meant to live like email campaigns.
We’re messy. We double-book. We cancel. We surprise ourselves.
And sometimes, the most healing thing we can do is to get a little lost. Wander. Meander without needing a GPS. Even digitally.
So open a weird new app. Try something that makes you roll your eyes at first. Go down a Wikipedia hole on jellyfish reproduction. Click on that ad that looks like it’s trying too hard. Follow the breadcrumbs. You might hate it. Or it might stick.
But that moment of curiosity? That’s the spark. That’s what keeps us from becoming robots with calendars.
Your calendar might say you’re free from 3 to 4 p.m. today. But real freedom? That’s the stuff you don’t pencil in. That’s the offbeat, the accidental, the impulsive.
So go ahead. Break your routine a little. Try the weird coffee flavor. Take the long way home. And if you end up chatting with a stranger in a game lobby or placing a bet on a virtual camel race—well, that’s one way to spend an afternoon.
Just remember: it’s not about being productive every second.
It’s about being alive in them.
Just remember: it’s not about being productive every second.
It’s about being alive in them. Let yourself mess up the schedule. Let joy interrupt your to-do list. The most unforgettable parts of life rarely come with a reminder notification. So ditch the perfection pressure—sometimes the detour is the destination, and the glitch is the gift. Keep exploring.
