It’s strange how silence can teach you more than words ever could. In the past 10.5 months, I’ve ventured on five Himalayan treks—each about four days long—and for 90% of those journeys, my phone stayed switched off. The mountains, rugged and vast, have a way of forcing you into the present moment. But once back in the city, the grip of my phone tightens, pulling me into its endless scroll.
This contrast between my trekking life and urban reality has made me reflect deeply on our relationship with technology. It’s not just about how much time we spend on screens but what that time does to us—and what we lose in the process.
The Cost of Escaping Emotions
Let’s face it, most of us use our phones to avoid discomfort. Feeling bored? Scroll. Feeling sad? Watch a video. Feeling anxious? Dive into a game. Our devices are like anesthetics—they numb negative emotions temporarily. But here’s the catch: when we avoid feelings like sadness, fear, or shame, we also avoid learning from them.
I’ve come to realize that these “bad” emotions aren’t the enemy. They’re our body’s way of teaching us something important. For example, fear pushes us to avoid danger. Shame, as uncomfortable as it is, motivates us to correct our actions. But when we suppress these feelings by scrolling or swiping, we lose the chance to grow. It’s like taking painkillers without treating the underlying injury.
In the mountains, there’s no escaping discomfort. If I feel tired during a climb, I can’t pause the trek like a video game. I have to confront the challenge head-on. This rawness, though difficult, is transformative. It teaches patience, resilience, and most importantly, how to sit with discomfort without numbing it.
Why We’re Hooked
Back in the city, I notice how technology is designed to keep us hooked. Features like Face ID or infinite scrolling minimize the gap between impulse and action. We don’t even realize when we’re reaching for our phones during transitions—waiting in line, riding an elevator, or even between work tasks.
During one of my post-trek reflections, I observed how often I pulled out my phone without any real reason. It wasn’t about staying informed or connected; it was a compulsion. And every time I scrolled, I felt a pang of guilt. Why couldn’t I control this urge?
But then I dug deeper. The guilt wasn’t about the phone—it was rooted in a deeper sense of shame. Shame about wasted time, shame about dependency, and shame about being “fragile” enough to need an escape.
Processing the Shame
The mountains have a way of stripping you down to your core. With no distractions, you’re left to confront your thoughts and emotions. And this has taught me an essential truth: the only way to deal with shame is to face it.
Whether it’s trekking or simply sitting quietly, I’ve found that processing emotions involves three steps:
- Pause and Acknowledge
When I feel overwhelmed, I ask myself: “What am I really feeling?” Naming the emotion—be it frustration, sadness, or shame—takes away some of its power. - Reframe the Story
Often, we form harsh conclusions about ourselves during emotional lows. On a trek, when I struggled with steep climbs or altitude sickness, my inner critic would say, “You’re not strong enough.” But with time, I learned to reframe: “This is tough, and you’re doing your best.” - Learn and Let Go
Every negative emotion has a lesson. Shame taught me to prepare better for future treks. Anxiety nudged me to slow down and pace myself. Once I’ve taken the lesson, I let the emotion pass—like clouds clearing after a storm.
Technology: Amplifier or Escape?
Technology isn’t inherently bad—it’s how we use it. It can amplify our goals or amplify our problems. When I’m writing or researching, my laptop is a tool for creativity. But when I’m aimlessly scrolling, it becomes a crutch.
The key is intentionality. On my treks, I disconnect from the digital world to reconnect with myself. And I’ve started bringing that practice into my city life too. For instance, I now limit screen time during meals and replace scrolling with journaling before bed. Small changes, but they add up.
Lessons from the Mountains
Trekking has taught me that life isn’t about avoiding discomfort—it’s about facing it with courage. Whether it’s the sting of cold winds on a mountain pass or the ache of shame in your heart, every challenge carries the seed of growth.
Now, when I feel the pull of my phone, I ask myself: “What am I trying to avoid?” And more often than not, I put it down and turn inward instead.
If there’s one thing the mountains have taught me, it’s this: the path to growth lies in embracing discomfort, not escaping it. And sometimes, the first step is as simple as switching off your phone.
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