Will Anfeldt

A recovering screen zombie’s guide to rediscovering the outdoors

The Great Awakening (AKA: When My Phone Died and Changed My Life)

It started with a dead battery. Not the kind of dead battery that sends you scrambling for a charger like a caffeinated squirrel, but the kind where your phone finally gives up the ghost after three years of you ignoring every “Low Battery” warning like it was a suggestion rather than a cry for help.

There I was, standing in my living room, holding what was essentially a very expensive paperweight, when something magical happened: I looked up. And I mean really looked up. Not the quick glance you do when someone says your name, but the kind of looking where you actually see things. Like that window I’d been walking past for months. The one with the view of… wait, is that a tree? When did that get there?

The Revelation: There’s a Whole World Out There (Who Knew?)

Turns out, while I’d been busy perfecting my thumb-scrolling technique and achieving expert-level status in the ancient art of doom-scrolling, an entire universe had been existing right outside my door. I know, I know – shocking revelation of the century.

My first venture into what scientists call “the outdoors” was less David Attenborough documentary and more slapstick comedy. I stepped onto my front porch like a vampire seeing sunlight for the first time, squinting and making weird hissing noises. A neighbor walking by asked if I was okay. I realized I’d been indoors so long that I’d developed what I can only describe as “social skills rust.”

The Learning Curve: Nature Doesn’t Have WiFi (The Horror!)

The adjustment period was rough. I kept reaching for my pocket every thirty seconds, experiencing phantom buzzing syndrome. I’d instinctively look for the “like” button on a particularly nice cloud formation. I tried to take a screenshot of a sunset with my eyes, which, surprisingly, doesn’t work.

But slowly, something beautiful began to happen. My attention span, which had been reduced to the approximate length of a TikTok video, started to expand like a time-lapse flower blooming. I could sit on a park bench for an entire ten minutes without feeling the overwhelming urge to check if anyone had commented on my breakfast photo from 2019.

The Benefits: Nature’s Original Streaming Service

Here’s what I discovered about this “green time” phenomenon:

Fresh Air is Actually Fresh: Unlike the recycled office air I’d been breathing (which I’m pretty sure was 60% other people’s sighs), outdoor air has this weird quality where it doesn’t make you feel like you’re slowly suffocating in productivity.

Trees Are the Original Influencers: They’ve been standing there for decades, looking fabulous in every season, never asking for followers or posting thirst traps. They just exist, providing oxygen and shade like the ultimate life coaches they are.

Birds Offer Better Content Than Most Social Media: A cardinal arguing with a blue jay over prime real estate is infinitely more entertaining than watching another person film themselves eating cereal. Plus, no ads.

Walking is Like Scrolling, But With Your Feet: You move through space instead of through an endless feed of people you went to high school with selling essential oils. The content is better, and you don’t end up feeling existentially empty afterward.

The Science-y Bit (Don’t Worry, I’ll Keep It Simple)

Apparently, spending time in nature does all sorts of good things for your brain that staring at screens does not. Something about reduced cortisol levels and increased serotonin production. I don’t pretend to understand the science, but I do know that after an hour in the park, I feel less like a stressed hamster on a wheel and more like a human being who might actually survive the apocalypse.

Studies show that even looking at pictures of nature can reduce stress levels. But here’s the plot twist: looking at actual nature works even better! Revolutionary stuff, really.

Practical Tips for Fellow Screen Zombies

Start Small: You don’t need to suddenly become Bear Grylls. Begin with sitting outside for five minutes without your phone. Yes, it will feel like an eternity. Yes, you will survive.

Find Your Gateway Nature: Maybe it’s a houseplant (hard to kill, even for beginners). Maybe it’s that patch of grass between the sidewalk and the street that you’ve never really noticed. Work your way up to actual parks and hiking trails.

Practice Digital Sundowning: Pick a time each day when the screens go off. I chose sunset, partly because it’s poetic and partly because it’s when the good nature shows start.

Embrace Boredom: This is the hard part. When you’re not constantly stimulated by notifications and infinite scroll feeds, your brain might panic. Let it. Boredom is where creativity lives, and creativity is where you remember that you’re actually an interesting person with thoughts and ideas.

The Plot Twist: I Still Use Screens (I’m Not a Monster)

Don’t worry – I’m not suggesting we all become Luddites and start making our own candles. Technology is useful. Screens serve a purpose. The internet has cat videos, and that’s important for society.

The goal isn’t to eliminate screen time entirely but to create some balance. To remember that there’s a world beyond the glow of our devices. To occasionally lift our heads and notice that the sky changes colors every single day, and it’s putting on this incredible show that we’re missing because we’re watching someone else’s lunch on Instagram.

The Happy Ending (Because This Isn’t a Dystopian Novel)

These days, I’m what you might call a “balanced human.” I still check my phone, but I also know what phase the moon is in. I can scroll through social media, but I can also sit quietly and listen to actual birds tweeting instead of the digital kind.

My screen time is down, my vitamin D levels are up, and I’ve discovered that I actually enjoy my own company when I’m not constantly seeking digital validation. Who knew?

So here’s my challenge to you, fellow citizens of the internet: Put down your phone (after you finish reading this, obviously – I need those engagement metrics). Step outside. Look around. Take a deep breath of that weird, unfiltered air.

Your notifications will wait. The memes will still be there when you get back. But that sunset happening right now? That’s a limited-time offer, no subscription required.

And the best part? Nature never asks you to rate your experience or leave a review. Though if it did, I’d give it five stars and definitely recommend it to a friend.

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Now excuse me while I go watch a real bird build an actual nest instead of watching someone else’s vacation photos. The entertainment value is surprisingly high, and the subscription is free.