Connection is a fundamental way of being human. Sociologist and writer Brene Brown views our need for connection with others as the major reason we are here. She believes it gives our life both purpose and meaning. Yet there are many forms of connection. Some face to face connections are deeply satisfying while others can cause hurt or produce unhealthy attachment to others. Our online connections, particularly through social media, can support a sense of belonging, yet they can also cause loneliness and comparison with others. Having an increasingly connected world via the internet means we are exposed to constant news from elsewhere. It can be confronting and cause us to feel unsettled.
Perhaps what more of us are craving right now is the ability to disconnect. To slow our pace, live more simply and cocoon for a while to allow our bodies and minds to rest. Disconnection also allows the opportunity to refocus on what is important. To consciously look for ways to achieve life balance and be more present in each moment. To be less reactive to life and respond more with gratitude and compassion, both for ourselves and others. Disconnection can also help us replenish our energy so we can reengage more deeply with others.
Recently I travelled with a small group to Lord Howe Island. A World Heritage Listed island that is just eleven kilometres long and almost three kilometres wide. It is part of Australia and sits approximately 600 kilometres from the east coast of the mainland. It’s at the same latitude as Port Macquarie which offers a quick direct flight with Eastern Air Services. The population of Lord Howe Island is small with only 445 permanent residents. In addition, there are only 400 tourists able to stay on the island at any one time.
Our adventure started at Port Macquarie Airport where biosecurity dogs checked our luggage to ensure we were not carrying anything which would be detrimental to the island’s habitat. After takeoff we looked out our plane’s windows as we crossed the coastline. Soon we were amongst the clouds with only the Pacific Ocean below us.
It’s a reasonably comfortable ride. Thankfully earpods or headphones blocked out the constant engine noise. After an hour in the sky we could feel the plane decend and the beautiful island and its majestic Mt Lidgebird and Mt Gower became visible through the cockpit windscreen. We were met at the island’s small airport by a second set of security dogs and their handlers before being whisked away to our accommodation for the next seven days.
Life is lived at a slow pace on the island. People on pushbikes or on foot outnumber the vehicles and the speed limit of 25 kilometres an hour ensures the rather narrow roads are safe for all. Internet is sparse with the mainstreet near the Anchorage Cafe being the main spot for connection to the outside world. Supplies and food for the island arrive each fortnight by boat – ‘The Island Trader’ that is based on the Hastings River in Port Macquarie. Luckily it arrived during our first day on the island so we hired bikes and road down to the wharf to watch the spectacle of unloading the boat while we waited for check in at our accommodation at Pinetrees Lodge.
Pinetrees Lodge, established in 1848, is one of the oldest family run businesses in Australia. It offers a full service adventure lodge experience. It’s staff were friendly and accommodating and the team of chefs kept us fed from morning until bedtime. During the day they supplied picnics or barbeque eskies which were conveniently transported to our chosen lunch location. In the evening all of the resort guests sat down to a three course evening meal together after the opportunity to watch the setting sun over the lagoon from the lodge’s Boatshed.
Staying a week it became increasingly possible to find a less hurried pace and to truly relax. Each day we ventured out to explore the lagoon’s beaches by bike or walk the hiking trails. The lagoon was crystal clear and its coral reef plentiful with over 500 species of fish and 90 species of coral. Both were vivid in colour and proved mesmerizing as we snorkelled among them. At Ned’s Beach on the ocean side of the island we were surrounded by fish as soon as we stepped into the water. We soon realized we were definitely visitors in their territory as we swum among them.
The gifts of disconnection on a small remote island
You sleep well
Access to a constant cool ocean breeze and shade under the kentia palms and pine trees deepens your breath. With exercise in the day and the temptation to reach for technology unavailable we found that our bodies naturally transitioned to sleep after our evening meal. There was no television to watch so that was replaced by quiet conversation or a book. We were grateful to disconnect from the news of the world beyond the island.
Eating outdoors encouraged appetite and socialization
Everything tasted so good. The experience of eating was unhurried and conversation around each table was plentiful. While we were there other guests included couples, groups and multigenerational family gatherings. Once the food was served there was also ample opportunity to get to know the personal life stories of the staff. They were also interested and engaged in getting to know us. There was a sense that they as a staff were a ‘family’ and for our brief stay we became a valued part of their extended family.
The natural world becomes more noticeable
The simple, comfortable rooms each had a relaxing verandah space that naturally extended outdoors. The little brown woodhens wandered around us inquisitively if we sat in the surrounding gardens. Whereever we ventured to explore the the island we were met with beauty. Intricate textures and colours were present both on land and in the water. Being in nature invited the possibility of pausing and being mindfully present to our surroundings. Even on an active hike there were opportunities to stop and admire the surrounding scenery as we caught our breath.
A flow rather than a schedule
A very loose schedule developed around the offered meal times. Once breakfast was complete guests were encouraged to go out and explore during the daylight hours. ( A convenient way to let staff clean our rooms and tend to tasks around the lodge). It became easier to watch the sky rather than our watches for a guide to the time. Without a schedule, we also ate when we were hungry and succumbed to rest that our bodies needed. Our stay became an opportunity to replenish our energy and nurture ourselves. There was also time to perhaps reflect on our everyday lives and be aware of possible changes or small tweeks that were possible.
The ability to connect on a deeper level
By taking away the busyness and distractions of everyday life, there became time for deeper conversations. We travelled as a small group of six friends. Over the course of the week there was time for reminising and ‘debriefing’ our life experiences whether it was with our feet in the water, our backs on a towel in the shade by the lagoon or while chatting over a drink or meal. Our friendship naturally deepened over the course of these conversations.
In our normal lives our minds and bodies are continually switched on. Our sympathetic nervous system constantly monitoring and responding to the complexity of life around us. The need to know what’s going on in the world is a strong urge. It takes conscious resistance to override the automatic desire to reach for our phones. It can also be easy to go through our days on autopilot suddenly arriving at the end of the day without realizing how we’ve navigated it.
The opportunity to disconnect and relax is precious. We were fortunate to be able to embrace the slower pace that the island provided and absorb the gifts it offered. The real challenge will be to internalise the experience deeply enough to enable us to integrate some of its benefits when we are back home.
