This is the month of Maying

 

A Gentle Digital Detox for the May Bank Holiday

It’s the first Bank Holiday weekend in May and, as I write, the sun is shining. We all feel a little brighter when the weather is kind, though who knows how long it will last.

If you’re reading this on a laptop, tablet or phone, you’re using the internet — something most of us rely on every day. Many of us would feel quite lost without access to emails, messages, the NHS App, and all the other interesting things we check without thinking. But every now and then, it can help to reset our habits and give Google a rest.

Keeping one eye on a screen is tiring. The world is going through a difficult time, and constantly checking the news or social media can quietly raise our stress levels. Some people choose to step away from it all for a while, and many find it surprisingly freeing. If you feel you look at your screen too often, try a small digital detox — a day, a weekend, or even a week without scrolling. You can still keep in touch with friends and family, and you can still answer calls. Putting your phone on silent for a while can feel wonderfully peaceful.

A break from screens can also be a chance to reconnect with the world around you. Take a walk, sit in the garden, or simply notice the fresh air when you open the door. Listen to music you enjoy. Try writing, crafting, or taking a few photos. Let yourself enjoy the moment, just as it is.

“The Quiet That Was Waiting”

I turned the screen face‑down
and the room exhaled.
There was a small hush
behind the ticking clock,
a space I’d forgotten
was mine.

In the stillness,
my thoughts arrived
without hurrying,
like birds returning
to a branch
I’d left empty.

 

“Blue Light Off”

When the blue light fades,
the world softens.
Shadows stretch into stories,
and the night remembers
how to speak.

My hands unclench.
My breath lengthens.
I meet myself again
in the quiet
I keep postponing.

“Unplugging”

I stepped away
from the endless scroll
and found the day
still waiting—
sun on the fence,
wind in the hedge,
a robin rehearsing
its one perfect note.

None of it needed
a password.

 

“Relearning Slow”

Without the buzz
and the blinking,
time widens.

Tea cools gently
instead of being forgotten.
Thoughts land softly
instead of scattering.

I remember
that my mind
was never meant
to sprint.

Haiku Set for Digital Rest

Screen sleeps on the desk—
my pulse finds its older rhythm,
quiet as morning.

Notifications fade;
a single raindrop tapping
becomes the headline.

Hands empty at last—
I hold the warm mug instead
and feel myself here.