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
Why might this line matter today, not tomorrow?
A Modern Proverb in Plain Language
Anne Lamott’s line reads like a piece of homespun tech advice, but it lands as something closer to wisdom: when systems get overloaded, the simplest intervention is to stop and reset. By placing “you” beside a machine, she collapses the distance between technology and the human body, implying that fatigue and malfunction share a family resemblance. From there, the quote invites a gentler view of breakdowns. Instead of treating exhaustion as failure, Lamott frames it as a predictable outcome of constant output—something that can be remedied, at least partly, through a deliberate pause.
Why the “Unplug” Metaphor Works
The metaphor succeeds because it borrows from a universal experience: a frozen phone, a stalled router, a laptop that suddenly behaves after a restart. That familiar pattern—halt, wait, reboot—offers a concrete model for a human practice that can feel vague, like “self-care.” In effect, Lamott translates an abstract need into a straightforward action. And once the reader accepts the analogy, a subtle shift occurs: if we don’t moralize a device’s overload, why do we shame ourselves for needing recovery? The metaphor nudges us toward practicality instead of self-judgment.
The Physiology of Human Overload
Moving from metaphor to body, “unplugging” maps neatly onto how stress accumulates. Prolonged pressure taxes attention, sleep, and emotional regulation—features tied to the nervous system rather than mere willpower. In that light, stepping away is not indulgence; it’s maintenance, like giving an overheating engine time to cool. What’s more, even short breaks can change how we function. Anyone who has walked outside after hours at a screen and returned with clearer focus has felt the small reboot Lamott is pointing to: a brief interruption that restores a wider range of choice and calm.
Rest as a Spiritual and Cultural Practice
Beyond biology, Lamott’s advice echoes older traditions that treat rest as essential rather than optional. The Sabbath, described in Exodus 20:8–11, institutionalizes a recurring “power-off” cycle for individuals and communities, suggesting that stopping is part of a healthy rhythm, not a reward for finishing everything. Seen this way, unplugging becomes an act of trust: trusting that the world can run without our constant vigilance, and trusting that our worth is not measured solely by productivity. The quote modernizes that ancient insight in a language shaped by power cords and charging ports.
Boundaries in an Always-On World
The line also speaks to a contemporary hazard: many people are never fully offline. Notifications, news, and work messages blur the boundary between effort and recovery, leaving the mind partially “plugged in” even during supposed downtime. Lamott’s simplicity is almost corrective—she implies that restoration requires more than scrolling in a different posture. Accordingly, unplugging can mean setting conditions that allow the nervous system to settle: a walk without the phone, an hour of reading, a quiet room, or simply lying down. The common thread is intentional disconnection from the inputs that keep the system running hot.
A Practical Reset You Can Actually Do
Finally, Lamott’s point is actionable: if you feel stuck, step away long enough to interrupt the loop. That might be five minutes of stillness, a brief nap, a shower, or leaving the task mid-frustration and returning later. Like restarting a device, the goal isn’t to solve everything during the pause—it’s to restore basic functionality. In the end, the quote offers permission as much as instruction. It normalizes the idea that humans, like machines, have limits, and that respecting those limits is often the fastest path back to clarity, kindness, and competence.