What nine days without a laptop looked like


What Nine Days Without a Laptop Looked Like

I spent nine days in Utah without my laptop.

What did that look like?

It looked like sliding down a boulder and subsequently leaving some of my skin on sandstone.

It looked like almost no decision fatigue—which, if you own a business, you know is very real.

It looked like being in nature and mostly thinking about the next step. Literally. As in: Where do I put my foot so I don't fall off this damn mountain?

It looked like getting lost in the best possible way, usually in search of petroglyphs hidden on top of a mountain, down some dirt road that somehow led to even more magical mountains.

It looked like thinking about the next chapter of my life without all the usual distractions.

It looked like being in community with old friends and new ones.

And it looked like standing in a certified dark-sky area and seeing more stars than I can remember seeing since I was a kid.

Then I came home.

To approximately 2,000 unanswered emails. Writing deadlines. Presentation deadlines. Work. Life stuff. All the things that had been patiently—or not so patiently—waiting for me.

I'm not particularly interested in looking for lessons in every experience. Sometimes an experience can just be an experience. It doesn't have to make us wiser or more productive. We don't necessarily have to turn it into content or use it to become a better version of ourselves.

But I do love a good question.

So the question I've been sitting with since I got home is this:

What happens when not everything we experience has to become productive—or even become a lesson?

Maybe some things get to matter simply because we experienced them.


📝 Your Writing Bravely™ Prompt

Set a timer for 10 minutes and begin with:

What would I notice if I stopped asking this experience to be useful?

Don't look for the lesson. Don't explain what it taught you. Don't turn it into a plan for personal growth.

Just write what happened. What did you see, hear, feel, taste, notice, or wonder about?

Let the experience be enough.


A quick Life Cycles note:

I currently have limited openings for individual therapy and clinical hypnotherapy. If you've been thinking about reaching out—or returning to therapy—you can contact me here to see whether we're a good fit.


Want more writing prompts?

Download a free sample of the Writing Through Grief and Loss Journal to get IFS journal prompts.


With courage and goblin research,

Adina

P.S. For my therapist/behavioral health readers: If you've been curious about clinical hypnosis—or wondering how it's actually different from guided imagery—I'm offering a Clinical Hypnotherapy Training for Mental Health Professionals on October 2 in Richmond. We'll get into what hypnosis actually is, how it works, and how to use it thoughtfully in clinical practice. Details and registration here.


P.P.S. If you'd like evidence that nine days in Utah did not result in only deep reflection, apparently nature also makes us make goblin noises. 😂 You can watch that particular moment of personal growth over on my Instagram.



Adina Silvestri

Read more from Adina Silvestri

Hi friend, I’m excited to be offering an in-person training this fall on Hypnotherapy for Clinical Practice. If you’ve been curious about hypnosis—or wondering how it can be integrated thoughtfully into clinical work—this workshop is designed to give you both an introduction to the approach and practical ways to begin thinking about its use with clients. Hypnotherapy for Clinical PracticeOctober 2, 2026 | 9:00 AM–1:00 PMRVA Counseling | Richmond, VA3.5 CE hours available for eligible social...

Hi friend, If you’re receiving this, you’ve already done something brave. You showed up, picked up the pen, and made space to listen to your own story. And I’d love to invite you back. Writing Bravely™ returns Saturday, September 19, from 12–4 PM in Richmond. We’ll spend the afternoon writing, reflecting, connecting, and following whatever wants your attention—without any pressure to share or produce the “right” thing. If you’re thinking, I could use an afternoon like that, I’d love to have...

What if you trusted yourself to handle what happens? Not predict it. Not prevent everything that could go wrong. Not create Plans B, C, D, and E for situations that haven't even happened yet. Just trust that when something happens, you'll figure out what to do next. A few days ago, I got a chance to test that theory. I was called to a workplace after an employee died unexpectedly. I was there as a crisis responder, which means I had prepared for what I was walking into—or at least I thought I...