Feel free to listen to an audio version of this essay, or read below.
’s challenge to record what I consumed over the course of a week. Food, drink, media, etc. Being aware of my consumption meant that I was more judicious about what I was intaking. I didn’t just turn on a podcast out of habit – I asked myself, “Do I really want to listen to this right now?”So often, I am acting from a place of frenzied consumption, seeking stimulation in all the wrong places.
Here’s a classic example. I went to the nail salon on a rainy afternoon and as I was leaving the house, I started thinking – what was I going to do while I was getting my pedicure? Did I have a book to read? I should grab a magazine or cue up a podcast. The thought of sitting still for half an hour without anything to do felt uncomfortable, like something that should be avoided. And we have so many things to help us escape those quiet moments of stillness. So many things we could be doing – making lists, crossing things off lists, checking email, catching up on work, watching something, reading something, scrolling something. DOING SOMETHING – ANYTHING.
In this capitalist society of constant productivity, we have been programmed with the need to constantly be doing something, even if what we’re doing (mostly scrolling mindlessly) is a low-quality experience that does not contribute to our well-being or to our actual “productivity.” Capitalism encourages, praises, and rewards the act of perpetual doing. Digital technology enables it.
In the digital era of capitalism, every experience must be paired with the phone to alter it or enhance it. It’s all about “stacking functions” and making every moment more “efficient.” The more stimulation we consume, the more we need to reach our baseline, like an addict with their drug of choice. More, more, always more.
Sitting in a massage chair, soaking your feet in hot water, and having someone tend to them with care is one of the most luxurious feelings in the world. What else do I possibly need in this moment? It makes me sad that I’ve forgotten how to appreciate a moment like this one, that it no longer qualifies as a moment that is dignified to stand alone – a moment when my senses can be engaged and I can content myself with gratitude for the luxury of tired feet soaking in hot water.
I signed up for Sarah’s weekly mindfulness practice on her newsletter
because I have been desperate for something like this for quite a while. Before having children, I used to practice mindfulness on a daily basis, meditating for twenty minutes every morning and afternoon. But I have not made mindfulness a priority in my life over the past few years, and I am suffering the consequences.I am finding the mindfulness practices difficult because I am so out of practice. I do have accidental moments of mindfulness, like the time I spend breastfeeding my baby in a dark room, bookending my days like sweet parentheses. But that parenthesis is filled with a lot of automatic actions, frenetic digital engagement and mindlessly reaching for my phone – I was going to do something, I swear. Now I just can’t remember what it was.
The consumption diary highlighted how terribly mindless I am about my digital consumption. I noticed the nonstop need to fill every moment of my life with some kind of stimulation, anything to take me out of the present moment. When and why did I become so uncomfortable with the present? I am more frantic than ever before, my mind and body furious with the constant need to be doing something that takes me out of my reality. (A lot of this has to do with mothering two toddlers in modern day America. More on that later.)
Mindfulness is the solution to our digital addiction. I’ve known this for a long time. It’s getting back in touch with myself in a moment-to-moment basis so I’m able to pause and ask myself – why are you picking up your phone right? Are you feeling anxious? Do you need a break, a breath, a walk, a moment to yourself?
Bringing attention to something is the definition of mindfulness.
The irony is that, although I/we am/are constantly seeking stimulation, the world around us is incredibly stimulating on its own – if we look up from our devices long enough to pay attention.
I use my bicycle as my main form of transportation and what I love most about being on my bike is that I must be present. I can’t do anything else besides train all my senses on the world around me—eyes vigilant for cars and admiring of flaming red azaleas that are somehow more exuberant in color than any other azalea bush in our little corner of the world, ears trained on the birds chattering above and the traffic that shares these city streets with me. Exposed to the elements: wind, rain, bird song, honks – impossible to ignore.
Last night on my bike, a whiff of a bonfire in someone’s backyard brought me back to the nights I spent at Crow Dog’s Paradise, the fire going strong for four days and four nights to keep the sundancers company. The sharp coolness in the morning air as I roll down the hill towards the library brings me back to those mornings at summer camp when the days started cold and then turned up to a broil by midday.
This is the kind of stimulation that I want to be prioritizing, the kind of consumption that actually soothes my soul and connects me to myself, my ecosystem and my community.
I have been doing bedtime alone most nights over the past month, and as I walk down the stairs after having “slayed the dragons,” the only thought in my head is “Where is my phone?” My after-bedtime ritual involves planting my smartphone in my hand and mindlessly turning myself over to it, zombie style. Many nights, I’ll look up from my phone and realize that an hour has passed, the kitchen is a mess, and I still haven’t eaten.
Last night, as I came down the stairs after bedtime, I noticed that the trees outside my kitchen windows were dancing in the dusk and there was a haunting sound coming from the skies. Instead of beelining for my phone and losing myself in mindlessness, I chose presence. I stepped outside my front door and witnessed the storm brewing around me, leaves shivering and sky growling with aliveness.
🧹Housekeeping
🌀In the pipeline: I have been hard at work interviewing people for the upcoming podcast. If you or someone you know has interesting relationship with social media and/or smartphones, please get in touch!
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Consumption Dysfunction
Now I want to try a consumption diary! I really identify with mindlessly filling the potentially quiet spaces with something, anything, and am really trying to cut back on that. I need to get back to thinking my own thoughts. Someone recently brought up the concept of "solitude deprivation" from Cal Newport's Digital Minimalism, and I went back and reread that section, and it resonated even more than it did the first time I read it. He defines solitude deprivation as "a state in which you spend close to zero time alone with your own thoughts and free from input from other minds." Seek solitude! Seek boredom! Let's get our minds back.
I, too, was very mindless about my media consumption habits before reading books like Cal Newport's Deep Work and Digital Minimalism, Nir Eyal's Indistractable, and Nicolas Carr's The Shallows. (I may have mentioned this in a previous comment. 😅) While I still occasionally find myself mindlessly tapping, I've since quit social media and removed all chat apps except for texting from my phone. I turned of all notifications and relegated distracting apps to a second screen that I block during working hours. And I "put my phone to bed" (off and in a location somewhere other than the bedroom) by 8pm each night.
Another mindful thing I've begun doing is leaving my phone at home when I go to church. It distresses me to see people using their phones during a service, even if it's just to open a Bible app. The presence of screens in what should be a sacred, focused, distraction-free zone seems incongruous, the antithesis of being present. Not having my phone forces me to leave less-important tasks for later and opens up more opportunities to talk with people between the service and Sunday school. I'd like to expand this to other areas of life, like not taking my phone when I go out with friends, but there are some logistics to work out before I can safely do that (i.e., how to make emergency calls if needed).
Thanks for sharing your journey with this!