With age and knowledge comes the irresistible urge to spin a cocoon to insulate yourself from the rest of the world.

This is how I felt the past few days.

After the announcement that the child star, Jamie Lynn Spears had given birth, I learned that a good portion of the female population of a Massachusetts high school was experiencing a group pregnancy. I don't need this kind of news. It was time to turn the TV off again.

I've been an advocate of "non" news for almost two years, when I (for the most part) gave up watching news coverage - first locally, and then on the national level. You've heard of "TMI," right? ("Too much information.") The modern world bombards the unsuspecting soul with way too much information. The media can suck you into a vortex of unending dimensions.

It's not just the reporting of the so-called celebrities who are chased by paparazzi. We watched in horror as Princess Diana passed away, and there was a different kind of revulsion when Britney's nether regions were exposed sans panties. We can watch the police chase common criminals as it happens. We are right there, embedded with warring soldiers, and can see the action close up and personal. We were all glued to the TV when the Twin Towers collapsed on 9-11. That coverage alone caused me to suffer a month and a half of sleeplessness and depression.

Sure, the Internet can be a wonderful thing. The amount of information alone is dazzling, and that kind of knowledge opens the doors to other cultures, ideas, and possibilities. In addition, I consider the Internet to be my new neighborhood. In the past ten years, I've made more friends via the computer screen and my Internet connection than I have in "real" life. It is easy to find people of similar interests and form a bond. The Internet is the new sidewalk café, where I've found a group of like-minded writers. We might not be smoking cigarettes and sipping wine in the Parisian sunshine, but we can still argue and bandy about our ideas.

Even though I love and appreciate the Internet, every so often I find it necessary to turn it all off. I find I have to. Sensory overload is a bad thing. I walk away, and that's what I did the last few days.

So what do I do when I take a sabbatical from the world?

I tend my garden. I mow my lawn. I make real dinners that require forethought and more involvement than opening a box or can. I pay attention to my family. I tackle the pile of books that have been begging to be read. I write.

After recharging my brain and illuminating my soul, I return. I might even turn on a news channel, but I won't be riveted to a constant stream of updates. I certainly don't believe everything I see or hear.

Moderation is still the key.