How to rent a cabin in the woods for free (or “5 Learnings from being off social media 2021”)

Going off social media (even for a month, week or day!) is the modern equivalent of renting a cabin in the woods. It’s a purge for your mind — a sanctuary of peace for your soul.

In 2020, at the start of lockdown, I decided to unplug, turn off and drop out of the pre-rona digital shit storm. This was before Rona took grapple of the world and South Africa went into lockdown. I detailed some learnings from then here.

As I write this, it's a gloomy Saturday, I’m sipping coffee, and watching Sicario (for the 5th time) in my new home. For the next 2 months, I’ll be living in a “tiny house” in a tiny town called Castricum, in the North of Holland.

My mind feels kind of free, kind of lonely and kind of at peace. Castricum is a nice shift from the claustrophobic feel of Amsterdam.  Even though I'm surrounded by houses and people (the tiny house is literally attached to another similarly tiny house), it feels like I'm in a desolate forest, thousands of miles from the nearest bipedal organism.

Five Learnings from My Social Sabbatical 2021

Most of my feelings of loneliness and desolation were a direct result of not being stuck on Instagram. Instagram has a way of sucking the user into a parallel universe — problems dissolve, time fades and distraction emerges.

During my time-out, I discovered some learnings which I thought were apt.

I actually miss Instagram

Let me start by saying I actually fucking miss the Gram.

The first time I took a sabbatical in 2020, I didn’t miss the social platform at all. In fact, I didn’t even care.

But part of me longs for seeing all the crazy carnivores and meat-eaters again. Maybe it’s because I’m in a new place, surrounded by strange people and strange sounding food that is so unfamiliar to me.

I'm actually eating food without taking a picture first

Part of me enjoys being part of the thousands of @carnivore_karen 's of the world — taking pre- and post-photos of my juicy steak on the carnivore diet. But, the other part of me cringes. It's a good feeling to be completely present with my food and enjoy it for its sake and not the cameras.

Conversations are richer

I'm a conversationalist by nature and enjoy playing the role of a palaeontologist of peoples minds: dusting, digging, uncovering, and looking deep into another’s soul via rich conversation. An Instagram-less conversation is one of flow, continuity and non-awkward silence.

Walks! Lots and lots of walking

The Instagram-less life yields with it a more pronounced routine. My daily habits are more noticeable to me. One of those habits is walking. Lots and lots of walking. The more I walk the more I ponder how important it is for health. I’m no doctor or expert and will never pretend to be one — so I'm sure you are more than capable of Googling the actual benefits (lymphatic drainage, etc.): but in purely logical terms, walking is a fundamental movement for good health.

Your real friends are the ones who message you when you're not on social media

The like button is the most superficial, artificial piece of praise in the world. I know this may sound stupid, but I believe one should only give out like on Instagram if one really means it — if you love the piece of art or the person themselves. When you're not always posting stories and being a celebrity on Instagram -- the place where people are constantly reminded of your existence day-in-day-out — who are the people that message you and ask how you are doing? The people that message you when you're absent are your people. You should fertilize those relationships with reciprocating love and understanding.


I once read somewhere that Bill Gates will often go to a cabin in the woods for a few weeks and just read and think and observe his mind and ponder the world. I’m not Bill Gates and I don’t have Bill Gate’s type of money. Instead, what I possess, is the amazing human gift of choice. I get to choose to become a Greg McKeown-defined Essentialist. I decide to fast from the barrage of memes, conflict and virtue signalling on Instagram and beyond.

Going off social media (even for a month, week or day!) is the modern equivalent of renting a cabin in the woods. It’s a purge for your mind — a sanctuary of peace for your soul.

I’ve spent time pondering the benefits of digital fasting. However, through Awareness (De Mello) and Truth-seeking (Kabil Gupta), I have more peace in me when I do return to the platform.

To contrast my return: last year, I felt as though I had left the face of the planet and that every soul on Instagram was wondering, where is Josh!? I miss him! Well, that wasn't the case. My return looked more like going to an all you can eat sushi buffet — I was prepared for a feast of adrenaline and enjoyment, only to be let down in an hour, full of information overload, fake filters and politically driven posts.

This year was different. The return was more like, eh, I kind of miss my little Instagram echo-chamber...lets’s see what’s happening. Oh, it's a bunch of @carnivore_karen's living their best lives, taking photos of steak and professing the power of meat-based diets.

👉 Have you taken a social media sabbatical? If so, I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments.