In such a fast-paced world where we always need to be staring at a screen or rushing from engagement to engagement, it is hard to take time to appreciate the simplicity and slowness that the world can offer. With social media and easy access to technology, we so rarely look, think, or react to the nature of everything around us. An activity as old as time can be the key to recognizing the intricacies of the people we live with here on earth. That activity is known to many as "people watching."

On August 24 2016, I sat in Boston Common waiting for a friend. As I sat there, I looked around at the people walking by. As I turned my head to look at a tall man in a tailored Armani suit speaking very loudly on his cell phone about the very important deal he was on his way to sign right at that moment, another man caught my eye. He stood still, staring at the ground as if inspecting it at a museum. He took a breath and reached into his satchel, out of which he pulled a plastic bag of chalk. The man adjusted his wide brimmed Panama hat then pulled out his first piece of chalk. Drawing lines around in large circles on the sidewalk, winding back on themselves every now and then. Hundreds of people walked by stepping on this man's chalk lines, not even seeing that it existed, but the man just kept on drawing as if he was alone on this pathway through the park. After about forty minutes of tracing the most exuberant, colorful labyrinth, he took a stepped back and instead of admiring his work, he started to walk through it looking for small mistakes that he had made. He found everything that could possibly be fixed and fixed it. Once he had finished, he turned around and walked away.

Watching this man made me think about how though hundreds of people, similar to the man in the Armani suit, trampled his work, yet he paid no attention. The man ignored every angry grunt of people trying to get by and every footstep that smudged the lines. He was totally disconnected from technology and seemed to appreciate the slowness the world can bring, as he traced his winding circles. It made me say to myself, "How often do I disconnect?" I was crestfallen to see that it was a rarity. I very rarely left the house without my phone. I very rarely went a day without looking at my Facebook, Instagram, or Snapchat. I very rarely go home and think, "I do not want to watch Netflix right now." Coming to these conclusions, I have decided to take one (soon to be two, three...) day a week to totally disconnect. To not go on my phone, check social media, and watch bad 90s movies.

So now it is your turn to try. You are currently reading this on a smartphone or a laptop, so I challenge you, to spend the rest of the day off of a screen. Go for a walk. Find a place to sit. People watch.