Finding Stillness in a Fast-Paced World

Technology often glows brightly, yet fatigue looms in our thoughts. Before the age of smartphones, we understood how to disconnect, to breathe, and simply exist. Why, then, has it taken so long for us to recall that ability?

A while back, Tristan Harris, who once worked at Google as a design ethicist, uncovered a troubling truth: our constant engagement with technology is not just random but carefully engineered. Features like endless scrolling and persistent notifications are crafted to keep us hooked—not for our benefit. For Harris, stepping away from social media and putting down his phone was an act of self-care. What he unearthed within Silicon Valley is now reverberating through an entire generation.

Recently, a friend recounted a conversation that gave her pause. Her teenage daughter seemed taken by nostalgia as she listened to stories from a family friend who grew up in the 1980s—riding bikes until dark, playing casual games outdoors, and the simplicity of corded phones on kitchen walls. The girl sighed and said, “I envy people who grew up in the 80s and 90s.”

Her yearning wasn’t for outdated tech; it was for a life with fewer distractions, fewer obligations, and, frankly, more space to simply exist. She, it seems, is not an outlier—an increasing number of teens are opting for old-school wall phones, not due to financial restrictions but as a statement. It’s a quirky twist that reflects a deeper desire.

This longing is becoming quite common.

Isolation vs. Sabbath

With around 98% of Gen Z carrying smartphones, they spend roughly five hours daily on their devices. Despite this, many are actively trying to step back from technology. Research from Pew indicates that constant connectivity often leads to fatigue rather than fulfillment. Nearly three-quarters of young people report negative effects on their mental wellness, sleep, and face-to-face interactions.

Loneliness deepens the struggle. A counselor working with Teen Challenge recently noted something alarming: among the most distressed teenage girls they assist, the core issue isn’t substance abuse or defiance, but loneliness, a lingering impact of the pandemic. These young women have internalized a view of others as potential threats, developing a habit of distancing themselves that lingers even post-restrictions. What began as protective has turned into a cycle of disconnection that’s hard to break.

Many of these girls have been shaped—not just by the isolation of screens—but by the lack of real connection, the absence of candid discussions with friends, comforting hugs, or the reassuring presence of trusted adults. The very walls built to keep out harmful influences have, paradoxically, confined them in solitude. And when isolation becomes a routine, true rest becomes almost unachievable.

Now, however, a new generation is stepping into existence.

My two-year-old grandson can find his favorite episodes of Bluey on his tablet without needing any assistance. His attention is completely captivated by vibrant videos, and he loves to sing along with the alphabet. He’s been surrounded by joyful tunes, and he seems thrilled. There’s no requirement for him to grasp how these things work. Most adults don’t marvel at technology as much anymore. Immediate gratification replaces comprehension. He delights in altering his grandmother’s face using filters on his father’s phone. Speech may be limited, but his tapping skills? Impressive.

If toddlers can easily navigate screens, isn’t it crucial for us to teach them—perhaps even model for them—how to disconnect? To establish boundaries? To show them that the most valuable experiences in life often exist away from screens?

Embracing Rest in a Restless Era

Every generation adapts to evolving tools. Baby boomers grew up with landlines; Gen Xers managed long cords; Millennials were introduced to the internet; Gen Z embraced smartphones; and Gen Alpha is born into tablets. Still, the intrinsic human need for rest remains constant. More access doesn’t equate to more peace.

Long before screens became prevalent, people felt overwhelmed by the constant din of life. In the 1800s, Henry David Thoreau retreated to Walden Pond—not from disdain for society but because he felt consumed by it. His retreat wasn’t an escape but an opportunity to regain focus.

In our time, Cal Newport has chosen a similar route. He completely avoids social media and writes about digital minimalism. His argument isn’t that tech is inherently harmful, but rather that distractions come with a hefty price. He contends that intentional limitations can lead to deeper concentration, genuine rest, and more impactful work.

What might appear as mere nostalgia could very well be wisdom.

The Biblical Perspective on Rest

The Bible quietly yet consistently underscores the significance of rest.

Jesus, both divine and human, often withdrew from the throngs to find solitude. He was never rushed or always available, yet he remained fully present wherever he was. Not all requests were fulfilled, nor were all needs met in the moment. Still, his life overflowed with purpose.

In the wake of John the Baptist’s death, he sought out a quiet place (Matthew 14:13). During busy times, he took moments to pray in secret (Luke 5:16). In his darkest moments, before his crucifixion, he found solitude in the Garden of Gethsemane (Matthew 26:36). Again and again, he invited others to join him in rest: “Come with me to a quiet place and get some rest.” (Mark 6:31).

This wasn’t a sign of weakness; it was wisdom. Even God took a break on the seventh day—not from explicit fatigue, but to recognize the sacredness of rest. The Epistle to the Hebrews reminds us:

“Therefore there remains a Sabbath rest for the people of God. Whoever enters into the rest of God rests from their works, just as God rested from His.” – Hebrews 4:9-10

The Sabbath isn’t merely an escape from life; it’s a return to its essence.

Rest Days in a Tech-Saturated Society

In a world marked by constant interruptions and hurriedness, faith offers a refreshing counter-narrative. It’s tempting to think stepping back from turmoil is necessary; it might even feel irresponsible. However, some of our most essential work often takes place in the silences we habitually evade.

We need to learn from the one who exemplified rest perfectly.

In Mark 1, Jesus accomplishes a multitude of tasks in a single day: he calls his first disciples, casts out demons, and heals those in need. He pursues meaningful work throughout the day, no matter how it appears. Yet, even amid that busyness, he found moments to step back. Early one morning, long before dawn, Jesus snuck away to pray in a solitary spot. When his disciples urgently called out, “Everyone is looking for you!” he didn’t hurriedly respond. Instead, he replied, “Let’s head to nearby villages so I can preach there too. That’s why I came.” Mark 1:38

He understood both his mission and his limits. Despite his capability to heal everyone, he refrained from succumbing to others’ expectations. His focus on purpose provided structure for his days. He gave abundantly, but he also recognized the importance of stepping back. The lesson is clear: Rest is not just a reward for completion, but a rhythm necessary for sustainability.

David grasped this principle as well. “Be still, and know that I am God” (Psalm 46:10). In the original context, “still” suggests a letting go—releasing control of things beyond our grasp. It parallels rest as an act of faith. This sentiment echoes throughout scripture: “In quietness and trust lies your strength.” (Isaiah 30:15).

Many modern mental health challenges can be traced back to stress, overwhelming schedules, and shallow connections. Just as our bodies require nourishment, our minds and spirits need regular intervals of peace to maintain equilibrium. True connection, both with each other and with God, replenishes in ways that constant availability simply cannot provide (John 15:4-5).

Why not start with something manageable? Maybe dedicate one day a week to a digital detox. Carve out ten minutes for quiet without notifications or social media. Consider reading a book or sharing meals with family while leaving devices in another room.

Step back. Exhale. The world won’t stop spinning, and you deserve guilt-free rest.

Reflecting on the Bigger Picture

The concept of rest predates our current era.

Long before the digital age, God recognized the burden of relentless stimulation.

God offered rest long before we were pressured into endless engagement.

The desire to disconnect may be less about reminiscing and more about rediscovering who we’re meant to be: finite beings, loved and in constant need of renewal.