Almost everything will work again if you unplug it for a few minutes... including you. — Anne Lamott
—What lingers after this line?
One-minute reflection
What feeling does this quote bring up for you?
A Modern Parable in One Line
Anne Lamott’s quip borrows the plain wisdom of troubleshooting: when a device glitches, you power it down, wait, and restart. By extending that logic to people, she turns a tech cliché into a humane parable—one that gently challenges the belief that we should be continuously available and endlessly functional. This is where the line lands its first insight: if we accept that machines have limits and need resets, then it’s reasonable—almost obvious—that nervous systems do too. The joke softens the message, but the implication is serious: recovery is not a luxury add-on; it’s part of how we’re built.
Why a Brief Pause Works
The power of “a few minutes” is that it describes an interruption small enough to be believable. In practice, stepping away can break a loop of spiraling thoughts, reactive emails, or frantic multitasking long enough for the body to settle. Even a short pause shifts attention from performance to presence, which often changes what feels urgent. From there, the metaphor becomes a method: you don’t need a dramatic retreat to begin restoring clarity. Like a device clearing a minor error state, a brief interval of quiet can reduce mental noise and make the next action more intentional rather than automatic.
Burnout as a System Overload
Lamott’s “including you” points to a common confusion: we treat fatigue as a character flaw rather than a signal. When workloads, caregiving, or constant connectivity accumulate, the “system” gets overloaded—sleep degrades, patience shrinks, and decision-making turns brittle. In that state, people often push harder, which is like tapping a frozen screen and expecting it to respond. A reset reframes the problem. Instead of asking, “What’s wrong with me?” it asks, “What would happen if I reduced inputs for a moment?” That shift can replace shame with practical care and turn collapse into maintenance.
Unplugging Isn’t Escaping—It’s Returning
It’s easy to hear “unplug” as avoidance, but Lamott’s tone suggests the opposite: stepping back is what allows you to come back. When you disengage briefly—closing tabs, leaving the room, pausing the conversation—you create space to notice what you actually feel and need, which is often obscured by speed. This is also why unplugging can improve relationships. A person who resets is less likely to snap, overpromise, or interpret everything as a threat. The pause becomes a bridge between stimulus and response, where kindness and perspective can re-enter.
Small Rituals That Make Resetting Real
The quote works because it invites a concrete experiment: try a tiny shutdown. Put the phone in another room for ten minutes, take a slow walk to the mailbox, breathe with attention, or sit without optimizing the moment. These are not grand wellness performances; they are deliberate reductions of input. Over time, small resets teach a larger lesson: you don’t have to wait until you’re broken to power down. Just as routine restarts keep systems stable, regular unplugging can keep a life from drifting into constant strain.
A Compassionate Permission Slip
Finally, the line offers permission—humorous, but firm—to treat yourself as worthy of basic care. If a laptop deserves a restart, a human being deserves a pause without guilt. Lamott’s framing makes self-care feel less like indulgence and more like common sense. And that’s the quiet hope underneath the joke: many things “will work again” not because you forced them, but because you stopped forcing them. In the space of a few minutes, you can return to yourself—rebooted, steadier, and more able to choose what matters next.