The Analogue Life Manifesto.

Sitting at my computer, thinking about pieces I would like to write for my blog, phone to the side of me as I ask my smart speaker to set me a timer, I do begin to wonder if I am living an analogue life. I wonder if I am actually just a walking charade. If this is just another trendy term that I have created to feel relevant or renegade. Over Christmas I ‘unplugged’ like so many other people and felt the benefits of that in so many areas of my life I wanted to continue the momentum. I have had the time to sit and really analysis what living analogue means to me (because after all, this is my journey and no one else’s and so opinions can be different). Where I landed didn’t surprise me so much in the content but more in the fact that I am already doing many of the things that I associate with being analogue. To me, living an analogue life doesn’t mean rejecting technology. It also doesn’t mean moving to a cabin in the middle of nowhere with no WiFi or an inside loo (tempting as that feels sometimes, the cabin not the loo so much!) To me it means being intentional about where my attention goes. To me it is choosing depth over speed, presence over productivity, texture over polish. This is an edit not an erasure.

An analogue life is slower, more intentional. It is not about being distracted by a hundred different tv channels or a thousand strangers inside your phone apps. It is noticing the weight of real objects again - a book in your hands, the clink of a mug on the table as you put it down, that pen you love to write with but scratches slightly. It is the ritual of putting on a record you have chosen rather than always letting an algorithm decide for you. It is about doing fewer things but doing them more fully, with more rich colour and depth of experience. It is being immersed in reading a book instead of distracted by doom scrolling. It is having a coffee and taking in the smell rather than photographing it. What about having a conversation and not being interrupted by notifications. Ultimately it is believing you can create memories that live in your body, not just in your camera roll.

It is also gentle. There is permission baked into this lifestyle. You don't have to optimise everything, you don't have to be visible all the time to matter. You don't have to turn every part of your life into content. It is editing out the noise so that what matters can be heard again - creativity, connection, rest and curiosity. It is about choosing to inhabit your life again without the pressure to document it.

It is not anti modern, it is pro human. It is a softer way of living in a loud world. It is a quiet rebellion. The manifesto for this rebellion?

We choose to live with our hands, not just our thumbs.

We notice texture, weight and pauses.

We let life be lived before it is shared. Or not shared at all.

We believe that presence is productive.

We know boredom can be fertile. That creativity often arrives when the noise leaves.

We are reclaiming attention, not rejecting technology.

We are choosing depth over speed.

We are prioritising connection over constant availability.

We are practising ritual over rush.

We read real pages.

We make things slowly.

We talk without checking.

We remember with our bodies, not just our phones.

Less scroll, more soul.

Are you with me?