The impulse to pick up my phone, slide it on, and mindlessly gaze at its illuminated screen is sometimes overpowering for me. So is the desire to open an internet browser when I’m trying to write. These actions are as automatic and unconscious as my daughter pulling a lock of hair over to her mouth for a good chew. Though I am supposedly “connecting” to an on-line world in these moments, I know that I am really disconnecting from my real life. But why?
Thankfully, I recognized a few years ago, that I didn’t like how social media made me feel about myself or the world. My sister, a connoisseur of blogs, found this one that describes the feelings I had about social media envy so elegantly:
designformankind.com/2015/03/apple-slice/
I lost count how many times I read that passage. It resonated with me, and I endlessly recommended it to friends. Deep down, I knew it would be healthy for me to remove myself from a source of profound unrest. I felt like quitting everything cold turkey was the best option for me. Still, it took months for me to delete my personal Facebook and Twitter accounts. For good measure, I also took the Pinterest app off my phone. All those craft projects I wasn’t doing made me feel like a bad mom. Luckily, my sister bravely stepped off the social media train with me. I had support.
But removing myself from the social media scene was hard. I was addicted to it. I would have a browser open and be typing F-A-C-E-B… before I even realized it. And I was doing it twenty times a day. I had withdrawal symptoms. I was depressed and anxious and kept asking myself, What if I’m missing something important?
But then I began to ask, Why am I so invested in the lives of others at the expense of my own? I love my friends and care about what’s going on in their lives, I was entertained by funny tweets, and I was informed about things going on in the world. But I was missing out on something essential in my own life. Being continuously connected to myself.
An on-line life rewards your brain with little hits of satisfaction when you read a funny meme or when someone likes your post. It is easy because it is passive. You are a pure a consumer. On the other hand, real life is hard. You are its creator and completely responsible for its content. It’s no wonder people gravitate to plugging in rather than dealing with the pain we sometimes feel to be us in the present moment. I am guilty of doing this. We all are. But how many of us are even aware that what we are doing is escaping?
I believe that an on-line life will always eventually leave me empty. It dangles a carrot in front of me and promises to make me feel better as I travel down the rabbit hole. But it is an empty promise because for me, on-line life has an artificial soul. Meanwhile, my own genuine soul waits patiently for me to realize what I was missing and return to it. Because, once I get over the mental hurdle and enter my real life, it satisfies me in ways I never imagined. I am less anxious. I have more patience. Time slows down, and I notice little things; the shape of the clouds, the rustling leaves in the breeze, the precious way my children talk to each other while they are playing together.
Disconnecting from social media was one of the best decisions I ever made. I got back so much time and self confidence. The subconscious games of comparison were over. The biggest bonus was that I saved myself from all the negativity swirling around during the election. I haven’t regretted my step back from 21st century life one bit.
But I worry now. I want to be a published author. I have a completed manuscript that is just a few months away from querying, and I’ve heard that having an on-line presence is an important piece to the whole marketing puzzle. Agents and editors look for it and encourage it. It’s one of the reasons I started a blog, though, writing and publishing my work online is just about as connected to myself as I can be!
So I created a new Facebook page for Author Jenny and reactivated my Twitter account then gutted it. These are my professional social media profiles, and I intend to keep them that way. I will try to curate them to benefit me as an author and entrepreneur. I want them to be avenues of research and connection for writing and other projects, not a source of self-worth. I’m trying to change my thinking to view social media as serving me rather than the other way around. If I can do that, I hope to stave off the melancholy that inevitably finds me when I disconnect from my life, and avoid the Facebook and Twitter traps I painstakingly extricated myself from.
Now that I am back on social media, will I be able to stop myself from reaching for my phone when I feel bored, or sad, or overwhelmed by my life? An escape is only a few clicks away. It will be a practice, but I will try to be ever mindful.