The “6-7” meme is everywhere and most people have no idea what it means.
For me, it does mean something.
6 is Friday at the end of a long working week.
7 is Saturday, the Sabbath, my day of rest.
It’s when I switch off my phone and the noise of the week.
When I step out from behind the filter of social media and reconnect with what’s real.
That’s my 6-7 every single week.Some trends fade fast.
This one’s worth keeping.
We often give thanks for what we have: our homes, our health, our work.
But maybe gratitude is less about possessions,and more about presence.
The real gift is time – time shared with people who matter.
So this year, pause before you pass the potatoes and look around the table.
What you’re most thankful for might already be sitting right there with you.
Happy Thanksgiving!
We often think our time is stolen in grand heists, but most of the time, that’s not how it happens. Time doesn’t vanish all at once, it leaks away in those small moments.
Like in The Blues Brothers, where the train rushes by so often we stop noticing it.
Or like a slow drip of water on a rock – gentle, unremarkable, but powerful over time.
Today, our leaks are digital.
A subscription we forgot to cancel.
A “tap to pay” on your phone that makes spending effortless, with no pause and no sense of loss.
And before long, it all accumulates.
The same is true of our time.
We lose it to the ease of saying “yes,” of staying busy, of not pausing to notice where it’s going.
The answer isn’t a weeklong digital detox.
We reclaim it one pause, one mindful “no,” one quiet breath at a time.
Most tools find their purpose long after they’re made. Sometimes the wisest move is simply to pause and notice how they fit into what comes next.
⏸️If this struck a chord, pause for a moment—and follow for more insights on reclaiming your time.
We used to call tuberculosis “consumption” because the body slowly wasted away.
Today we use the same words for media.
Maybe language is trying to tell us something.
Consumption was a physical disease
Consumption 2.0 is a psychological disease
The fix isn’t to delete your apps, it’s one intentional day offline each week so the other six are lived with intention instead of compulsion.
Pause is how we take back control.
We all want to be happy. But happier than others? That’s the trap.
Social media is a full time job. We scroll through curated lives, believing others are happier than they are and end up feeling worse about our own.
Constant comparison steals joy.
Discover the Power of Pause: step away from the feed, and immerse yourself in what’s real – family, nature, community.
That’s where genuine happiness begins.
We’ve all heard the saying: Good, Fast, Cheap – pick two.
But what if instead of asking which two we must have, what if we asked which one we’re willing to give up?
We’ll spend more to skip the queue, get next-day delivery, or hire the person who can do it now.
What does that tell us?
That our most precious resource isn’t money or quality.
It’s time.
The real luxury isn’t speed – it’s the pause.
Taking a moment before choosing what we trade away.
Arthur C. Clarke said: “Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.”
Sometimes, social media feels that way.
You mention a product once and suddenly it’s everywhere in your feed.
Creepy? Absolutely.
But there’s no ghost in the machine, just algorithms that know us better than we know ourselves.
The good news?
We have the most powerful magic of all: human agency – the ability to choose.
The choice to pause. To disconnect. To reclaim what’s real.
This Halloween, don’t fear your tech. Outsmart it.
After surviving the Holocaust, my cousin’s father-in-law came to the U.S.
With no formal documents from his home country, he told officials he was born in 1919. Years later, he revealed his true birth year was 1914.
“The Nazis stole five years from me—I took them back.”
That line has always stayed with me.
Time is our most precious wealth. Yet today, we allow social media to steal it—minute by minute, scroll by scroll.
It’s time to reclaim it.
Some buy back time with money.
But what’s it worth if it’s lost to scrolling?
Once a week, I unplug—no phone, no laptop.
Time slows. Presence deepens.
That’s what being time rich feels like.
Could you unplug for just one day?