Global Day of Unplugging, the Freewrite Way

Annie Cosby
March 02, 2025 | 3 min read

It's no secret that here at Freewrite, we're a bit obsessed with overcoming digital distractions to live your best life.

That's why we love the Global Day of Unplugging.

What is the Global Day of Unplugging?

Founded by nonprofit org Reboot, the Global Day of Unplugging has grown from a small initiative to a global movement embraced by thousands seeking relief from digital overload.

The day, typically held in March, offers people an opportunity to practice a 24-hour period of setting aside soul-sucking devices and reconnecting with ourselves, others, and the physical world around us.

But, Freewrite, you make digital devices. Why are you promoting this?

Sure, we love our tech. But at the core of our mission is a desire to create tech that enhances people's lives and helps them practice their passions — rather than depleting their well-being and energy.

And the philosophy behind the Global Day of Unplugging isn't actually anti-technology. It's pro-balance. Reboot promotes mindful usage rather than complete rejection of our digital tools.

The philosophy behind the Global Day of Unplugging isn't actually anti-technology. It's pro-balance.

Why Participate in the Global Day of Unplugging?

We talk about this a lot. Like here. And here and here. (See below for a list of articles.)

Studies consistently show that excessive time scrolling damages our productivity, our mental health, and our bodies. It contributes to increased stress, poor sleep quality, decreased attention spans, reduced face-to-face social interaction, and more.

Taking a deliberate break can:

  • Reset your relationship with technology
  • Reduce anxiety and improve mental clarity
  • Enhance creativity and focus
  • Strengthen in-person relationships
  • Improve sleep quality
  • Create space for neglected hobbies and activities
  • And more!

Studies consistently show that excessive time scrolling damages our productivity, our mental health, and our bodies.

How to Prepare for the Day of Unplugging

Successfully unplugging requires some advance planning.

Now, we understand that being able to disconnect completely is, for many, a privilege modern life doesn't afford. Between work responsibilities and family safety concerns, different people will be able to achieve different levels of "unplugging."

Here's how we suggest preparing:

  1. Set clear boundaries.Decide exactly when your unplugging period will begin and end. Communicate these boundaries to friends, family, and colleagues so they understand your temporary unavailability. Consider setting up an auto-responder for emails and messages explaining your digital break.
  2. Create a plan. Decide what you're going to do with your offline time, and assemble the items that will help you focus. If you know what you're going to do, you're less likely to reach for your phone out of boredom. Suggested activities: writing, reading, doing a craft, cycling, going for a nature walk, playing a board game, going to the dog park, cooking a special meal, or simply commiting to unstructured time to daydream.
  3. Put your phone away.While some people may be able to completely turn off their phones, if you can't due to certain responsibilities, simply treat it like a landline. Leave it in one room of the house and do your activities in another.
  4. And, of course, charge your Freewrite.That way, you're ready to take it on the go for the Global Day of Unplugging. Go write at the park, or a museum, or the zoo, or anywhere else you can think of!

Further Reading

Recommended articles

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March 22, 2025 4 min read

I’ve spent years writing while secretly fearing that a single misplaced word would expose me — not just as a bad writer, but as a fraud.

My background is originally in photography, and I see it there, too. A photographer I know recently posted a before-and-after comparison of their editing from 2018 versus now, asking if we also saw changes in our own work over the years.

Naturally, we should. If our work is the same, years apart, have we really grown as artists?

So why is that the growing, the process of it, the daily grind of it, is so painful?

So why is that the growing, the process of it, the daily grind of it, is so painful?

The Haunting

Hitting “publish” on an essay or a blog always stirs up insecurity — the overthinking, the over-editing. The fear that someone will call me out for not being a real writer.

I initially hesitated to make writing part of my freelance work. My background is in photography and design. Writing was something I gravitated toward, but I had no degree to validate it. No official stamp of approval.

Like many writers, I started with zero confidence in my voice — agonizing over edits, drowning in research, second-guessing every word.

I even created a shield for myself: ghostwriting.

I even created a shield for myself: ghostwriting.

If my words weren’t my own, they couldn’t be wrong. Ghostwriting meant safety — no risk, no vulnerability, just words without ownership.

I still remember the feeling of scrolling to the bottom of an article I had written and seeing someone else’s name, their face beside words that had once been mine.

The truth is, I always wanted to write. As a kid, I imagined it. Yet, I found myself handing over my work, letting someone else own it.

I told myself it didn’t matter. It was work. Getting paid to write should be enough.

But here’s the thing: I wasn’t just playing it safe — I was slowly erasing myself. Word by word. Edit by edit. And finally, in the by-line.

I wasn’t just playing it safe — I was slowly erasing myself. Word by word. Edit by edit. And finally, in the by-line.

The Disappearing Act

This was true when I was writing under my own name, too. The more I worried about getting it right, the less I sounded like me.

I worried. I worried about how long an essay was (“people will be bored”), finding endless examples as proof of my research (“no way my own opinion is valid on its own”), the title I gave a piece (“it has to be a hook”), or editing out personal touches (“better to be safe than be seen”).

I built a guardrail around my writing, adjusting, tweaking, over-correcting. Advice meant to help only locked me in. It created a sentence rewritten to sound smarter, an opinion softened to sound safer, a paragraph reshaped to sound acceptable.

I built a guardrail around my writing, adjusting, tweaking, over-correcting.

But playing it safe makes the work dull. Writing loses its edge.

It took deliberate effort to break this habit. I’m not perfect, but here’s what I know after a year of intentionally letting my writing sound like me:

My work is clearer. It moves with my own rhythm. It’s less shaped by external influence, by fear, by the constant need to smooth it into something more polished, more likable.

But playing it safe makes the work dull. Writing loses its edge.

The Resurrection

The drive for acceptance is a slippery slope — one we don’t always realize we’re sliding down. It’s present in the small choices that pull us away from artistic integrity: checking how others did it first, tweaking our work to fit a mold, hesitating before saying what we actually mean.

And let’s be honest — this isn’t just about writing. It bleeds into everything.

It’s there when we stay silent in the face of wrongdoing, when we hold back our true way of being, when we choose work that feels “respectable,” whatever that means. It’s in every “yes” we say when we really want to say “no.”

If your self-expression is rooted in a need for acceptance, are you creating for yourself — or for others? Does your work help you explore your thoughts, your life? Does it add depth, energy, and meaning?

My work is clearer. It moves with my own rhythm. It’s less shaped by external influence, by fear, by the constant need to smooth it into something more polished, more likable.

I get it. We’re social creatures. Isolation isn’t the answer. Ignoring societal norms won’t make us better writers. Often, the most meaningful work is born from responding to or resisting those norms.

But knowing yourself well enough to recognize when acceptance is shaping your work brings clarity.

Am I doing this to be part of a community, to build connections, to learn and grow?

Or am I doing this to meet someone else’s expectations, dulling my voice just to fit in?

The Revival

Here’s what I know as I look back at my writing: I’m grateful for the years spent learning, for the times I sought acceptance with curiosity. But I’m in a different phase now.

I know who I am, and those who connect with my work reflect that back at me — in the messages they send, in the conversations we share.

I know who I am, and those who connect with my work reflect that back at me — in the messages they send, in the conversations we share.

It’s our differences that drive growth. I want to nurture these connections, to be challenged by difference, to keep writing in a way that feels like me. The me who isn’t afraid to show what I think and care about.

So, I ask you, as I ask myself now:

If no one was watching, if no one could judge, what would you write?

If no one was watching, if no one could judge, what would you write?

March 20, 2025 6 min read

A book deal without an agent? An agent offer after a book deal? Learn how Writer Bobby Miller took his publishing journey into his own hands. 

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We've chatted with the creatures of Middle Earth to discover their writing preferences and which Freewrite devices work best for each of them.

Find your Lord of the Rings identity and discover your next Freewrite.