Earlier this week, I took off my Apple Watch.

To be more precise, I never put it on in the morning.  And I’m not sure what all people do, but I don’t sleep with my Apple Watch on.  So when i decided to start my day without it, that was a big deal.

My headache pain was so extraordinary, and life was feeling so very unbelievably hard, I decided that I couldn’t take the constant awareness that the watch usually provides.  I needed rest, and sleep and more rest, without being reminded to stand up or that I could close my rings.  I needed peace and I needed quiet.

At first I didn’t notice because I was so tired and I was trying desperately to beat the headache.  But as the week went on the absence of my watch on my wrist was both freeing and uncomfortable – as though I was missing a piece of myself.

The watch changes everything – gives tangible metrics to movement and standing and exercise.  It counts steps.  It gives you data to define your days.

In so many ways, the watch works for me and in so many ways,  I understand the harm it does.  I should want to walk just for the pleasure of walking, to enjoy the outdoors and be disconnected for a moment.  Not because I *need* steps. And when I am tired, I should rest, not push to hit exercise and calorie goals.  But that’s what it’s become.  Closing rings and hitting step count goals.

Which, by the way, aren’t actually that bad.  They’re – dare I say it?!- motivating and helpful? Just maybe not when they start to become addictive?

So that’s the rub.  It’s both good and bad.  In both situations – with and without the watch – I am free but I am also missing.

Tonight, instead of fretting about how to close my rings and get my steps I took my watch off and went downstairs to rest and relax.  I hope that’s my relationship moving forward — a little healthier, a little more balanced.  A little less fraught.

Xox, g