You Don’t Trust Anyone
(Including Yourself)
I’m writing this from the other side of a 4x4 adventure up the Sani Pass, after three days at a cottage with no signal and no WiFi. Absolutely spectacular experience.
Complete blackout. Phone turned into nothing more than a camera.
And it was amazing.
Not because I was forced offline - I chose it. Could have driven to town for signal. Could have found a way to “check in.” Didn’t want to.
For three days, I didn’t know what was happening in my business. Didn’t know what emails were waiting. Didn’t know if anything was on fire.
Nothing was.
Most people won’t make that choice. They’ll tell you they can’t afford to disconnect completely. That their business, their team, their clients need them available around the clock. That stepping away without checking in would be irresponsible.
But that’s not what’s really happening.
You’re not protecting your business by staying tethered to it every waking moment. You’re protecting yourself from what happens when the noise stops. When you can’t hide behind another urgent email or important call. When you have to face your family without distractions, sit with your partner without your phone buzzing, be alone with your thoughts for longer than it takes to finish your morning coffee.
Work has become your sanctuary from the conversations that matter most. From the silence that might reveal something you’re not ready to hear. From the version of yourself that exists when nobody needs anything from you.
The cost isn’t just your sanity. Everyone around you feels it too. Your team stops bringing you ideas because they know you’ll micromanage the execution. Your family stops sharing what matters because they know you’re only half-listening anyway. Your partner stops trying to connect because competing with your phone for attention feels pointless.
You think constant availability signals dedication. To them, it signals that nothing they do will ever be enough to earn your full presence.
The magic you’re avoiding lives in that silence. Deep down, you already know this.
Tomorrow I’m disappearing into Pilanesberg - staying offline but diving into deep work, then heading to Cape Town for a mindset and performance summit to feed on knowledge and inspiration. Not because I have to, but because I’ve finally built something that doesn’t need me hovering over it every second to survive.
The question isn’t whether you can afford to disconnect completely.
It’s what your refusal to try reveals about who you really are when no one needs you.