200 Miles of Water and Silence: A Journey Through the Grand Canyon

This summer, I traded notifications for river currents, conference calls for canyon walls, and WiFi for white water. For a week, I rafted 200 miles down the Colorado River through the Grand Canyon - no screens, no signal, just the river carrying us deeper into stillness .

At first, the silence felt disorienting. My mind, so used to constant inputs, reached for something that wasn’t there: the phantom buzz of a phone, the reflex to check a screen. But slowly, like sediment settling in clear water, those impulses began to fade.

What replaced them was presence. The simple rhythm of paddling. The raw power of rapids that demanded every ounce of attention. The sun rising over canyon cliffs, painting the rocks in colours no filter could replicate. Meals shared by firelight. Conversations unhurried by the clock.

It was a reset.

In my professional life, I live immersed in technology - automation, AI, digital networks shaping the future . These tools are powerful, but they pull us into constant optimisation. They ask us to measure, track, and improve everything. Even our rest becomes another metric.

But on the river, there was nothing to measure. No mileage tracker. No inbox. Just the question: What is this moment asking of me?

Disconnection, I realised, isn’t about rejecting technology. It’s about remembering who we are without it. When we step away, even briefly, we create space to feel the rawness of life: the cold splash of water, the vulnerability of wilderness, the gift of human connection without distraction.

And here’s the paradox: leaving the grid makes me better when I return to it. I come back with a clearer head, a steadier focus, a sense of balance that no productivity hack can offer. The river resets my perspective.

So here’s my invitation: carve out your own canyon, however you can. Maybe it’s a weekend hike, a phone-free dinner, or even just an evening with your devices tucked away. Give yourself the gift of being unreachable for a while.

Because sometimes the most powerful connection is the one we find when we finally disconnect.