*Cuban men socializing in a Havana barber shop*

With age comes wisdom and the kind of perspective that all the self-help in the world can’t quite match. Only recently have I connected the dots between decades of digital habits and the various challenges I’ve been experiencing. The wake-up call came last year while on a delightful week-long tour to Cuba for work with Project Por Amor. I was struck by how often I was reaching for my phone for no particular reason. Given the natural opportunity that being in Cuba afforded, by being far from home and without reliable internet, I decided that on my next trip there, I would try a "digital detox"— deliberately disconnecting from my electronics to reconnect with the incredible sights and sounds of Cuba around me. In an era dominated by digital connectivity, even considering my life without the convenience of my devices was hard to imagine, but in preparation for this experiment, I started to notice that my digital-habits were not just taking a toll on my body and mind, but also on my ability to actually experience connection with others.

Prompted to pause

The notion of a disconnect seemed to be a theme popping up all over my life. While sparring at my local gym I got unpleasantly, albeit accidentally, knocked in the jaw, and wasn’t able to chew for a couple of days. That was the last straw for me as I had already been nursing a shoulder pain that wouldn’t subside. It seemed like a good time to take an extended break from workouts to let my body heal properly. My trainer recommended a really wonderful chiropractic therapist who started me on some gentle exercises. Dr. B explained that the muscles that I needed to engage to activate my spinal support didn’t require much force. In bypassing that deeper more subtle layer, my other muscles were overcompensating resulting in the pain I was experiencing.

This concept of giving my all on the outside, yet neglecting the underlying needs of my body, was profound to me. As I practiced the exercises Dr. B. gave me, I began to notice some relief, but the surprising gift came in the awareness that there might be other areas of my life that needed attention. That urge to check my phone that I described while in Cuba, was a flag that perhaps there was something beneath that urge I was failing to notice. When I stopped to listen, I discovered that impulse was motivated by my desire for connection.

The Real Downhill

I was eager to write a piece on social media detox both because of my experiences in Cuba and because the top question we hear from people signing up for our tours is, “Can I get internet connection?” I scooted up to my computer to write about how a typical Project Por Amor tour to Cuba is like time travel back to the 1990s when your whole day was conducted without your phone or computer and thereby a perfect time to take a break from the digital world, when something else occurred to me. Besides the lack of physical support I was giving my body, my bodily pain might also be linked to digital habits dating back to 1993 when I got my first Motorola flip phone. Though not the beginning of my digital life, that moment significantly marks the downward trend towards distracted thinking and being.

The Mental Piece

Oxford announced the 2024 word of the year as “Brain rot.” Defined as ‘the supposed deterioration of a person’s mental or intellectual state, especially viewed as the result of overconsumption of material (now particularly online content) considered to be trivial or unchallenging,” brain rot is an unmistakable byproduct of our modern age. I can attest to my own reduced attention span evidenced by difficulty staying engaged while reading, listening to long presentations, or even watching informational videos. Scrolling through content without actually digesting became the norm and getting to the point was more important than enjoying the journey.

Before cell phones, I remember having to wait for someone to arrive, not knowing why they were late or if they would even show up. There was no way to reach them. I remember sitting in traffic without a GPS to consult. Only if particularly lost, would I pull over to orient myself on the bulky crinkled pages of my Thomas Guide. It’s not just that those scenarios were time consuming, they required space for the unknown. When 9/11 occured, my brother called me to tell me about it as I was in my experimental no-TV phase. Though I found out about the tragedy a couple hours later, I was no less impacted by the events. I have secretly believed I could handle the weight of global issues and constant influx of instantaneous data, even if trivial, but I wonder what the compromises have been as I have attempted to stay in touch with it all.

My Real Friends

*Our travelers enjoying a Cuban expresso*

“The 150-layer is what you might call the wedding/bar mitzvah/funeral group – the people that would turn up to your once-in-a-lifetime events.” - Robin Dunbar

Robin Dunbar, a biological anthropologist, studied relationship connectivity and proposed “Dunbar’s Number”: the idea that humans can support only 150 meaningful connections, including just five intimate friends. His research suggests only 50 are reserved for regular interaction, and the rest are casual acquaintances. These are hard numbers to rationalize against people’s claims to have hundreds if not thousands of “friends” on social media. It’s deceiving too, because so much time and effort is spent maintaining those supposed connections with no meaningful payoff to one’s wellbeing.

The Cuban Social Fabric

It never ceases to amaze me that the Cubans I encounter when I am in country don’t show as many signs of this hyper dependence on technology or the same struggle to feel connected. Though once restricted, internet access is more prevalent in Cuba today, with approximately 71% of the population now using the internet, but their close-knit communities, familial bonds, slower pace, and perhaps the very shared struggle seem to help lift the general mood of the country.

*Local Cubans. hanging out at the Malecon*

By rights, Cubans should be more anxious and depressed than Americans. Their economic situation is rather desperate but, everywhere you go, neighbors are engaging in lively conversations, children are playing in the streets, and it’s not uncommon to witness impromptu music and dance sessions. People gather nightly along the Malecon, the 5-mile promenade along the sea wall stretching from Havana to the Vedado neighborhood, to socialize with friends, neighbors, and family. This strong sense of community and interpersonal relationships plays a significant role in the well-being of its citizens and contrasts sharply with the more individualistic tendencies observed in other parts of the world.

We often hear our travelers mention how their trip to Cuba provided a refreshing respite from the constant barrage of media and screens that have become such a pervasive part of daily life at home. Cuba truly provides an automatic digital detox, potentially the most tangible since life in the 90s. For foreigners, there’s the added bonus of the ongoing party of a tour combined with the extroverted charisma of the Cuban people, which can’t help but leave one feeling a bit more alive and well.

“Your chances of dying are high, they are cut in half by joining one group” -Robert Putnam

*A friend and I enjoying a Havana Jazz Festival concert at Fabrica del Arte*

Communities, like the ones I observed in Cuba, are not exclusive to close-knit families or the people with whom you live and work. American political scientist Robert Putnam describes two types of connection that can occur within a community, Bridging Social Capital and Bonding Social Capital. I would venture that what I saw playing out on the streets of Havana is likely Bonding Social Capital where people are connecting to others much like themselves. This happens when you are hanging out with people who are the same age, have similar world views, and probably have a similar income bracket. While important, it’s Bridging Social Capital that has the power to address loneliness and isolation. It’s this type of capital that is “crucial to a modern diverse society…bridging across age, gender, social status,” states Putnam. One would find these kinds of communities in a bowling league or church, for example. I highly recommend Putnam’s podcast on What Now? With Trevor Noah where he dives into this idea a little more.

I’ve witnessed this dynamic occur on our group tours as the group bonds with each other and the locals. For a week, these travelers from all across the globe become a micro-community that depend on each other for companionship on their shared adventure. Regardless of differing political and spiritual beliefs, races and stages of life, they learn to travel together and share deeply about the things they encounter. On my last trip, I watched a group of strangers come together in their free time to dine at a Cuban paladar, sip fine rum, and discuss the impact of poverty and opression on the arts. And it fits with what Putnam says that “How well you do depends on how well the team does.” The people that travel with us are generally strong independent professionals from all kinds of industry, but they come together and form a cohesive unit, open to learning, perhaps even willing to have their perspectives challenged, and often finding friends for life.

Performances we enjoy while on tour in Cuba

Unplug and Reconnect

Though not the culprit, the cellphone, the computer, the tablet, the earbuds, all threaten how available we are to this kind of connectivity. My own body was prompting me to take a look at the impact devices were having and I am grateful for what it revealed. Something sparked to life on this last tour to Cuba as I practiced being fully present away from my devices with the group. Far removed from the pressures of everyday at home, and the clamors of the media, my creative side was energized by all I saw and heard. There was one moment at a Jazz Plaza Festival closing concert with Robert Fonseca where I closed my eyes and started to tear up. I felt so connected to the sounds, that I came home inspired to get back to songwriting.

The devices are not the enemy, but they can easily mask the underlying need. Whether the deeper thing is a desire for connection, feelings of anxiety, or muscular trouble, setting down the devices for me was like turning down the volume on the noise so I could tune into those places just below the surface asking for some attention.

If the phone has the illusion of connection, I think it’s important that in choosing to lay it down for a moment, we are conscious about reconnecting with something. Once in touch with the more subtle things yearning for attention, there remains the question about how to respond to those needs. Maybe joining a bowling league, trying out a Meet up Group, or coming on a tour with Project Por Amor and meeting your tribe, are some ideas to consider. The point is to find connection to a group that will have your back through both the grand adventures and unpleasant challenges of everyday life.

In our world saturated with constant digital engagement, I invite you to embrace a little digital detox and get curious about reconnecting with the colorful, complex, beautiful world and people all around us.