Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes. This observation about technology, made by
writer Anne Lamott, carries an obvious but often overlooked implication when applied to human beings rather
than devices: the same principle that fixes a frozen phone might apply to a frozen, overwhelmed person.
When a device stops responding correctly, the first troubleshooting step is rarely an elaborate repair. It is simply
turning it off and back on again, giving the system a moment to reset before resuming normal function. This simple
intervention resolves an enormous percentage of technical problems, not through fixing anything specifically, but
through the power of a brief, complete pause.
Humans, despite our complexity, sometimes respond to a similar intervention. When thinking feels foggy, when
patience has worn dangerously thin, when every task suddenly feels disproportionately difficult, the solution is not
always more effort or a more sophisticated strategy. Sometimes it is simply unplugging, stepping away completely
for even a short period, and allowing whatever internal system has become overwhelmed to reset.
This permission runs counter to a cultural instinct that treats stopping as weakness, especially when a problem
seems urgent and pressing. But the device metaphor is instructive precisely because it removes moral judgment
from the equation. Nobody accuses a phone of laziness for needing a restart. The restart is simply understood as
necessary maintenance, not a character flaw.
What would unplugging for a few minutes look like today, right now, in whatever you are currently in the middle
of? You are allowed the same grace you extend automatically to your devices. Unplug. Restart. You are allowed to
reboot too.
