checking in after a month offline

i guess i'll be coming back soon?

this is my fourth or fifth year in a row of deleting all social media apps for a month—that included TV, Substack & YouTube this go round because well…those are top tier contenders for transferred addiction. i have been sharing my life on social media for 15 years now + making money from it for about a decade of those. in that time i’ve (co)fixed a marriage, had three children, moved twice, made a home, found a village, & forgot & then remembered who i am (too many times to count).

every year after this annual month sabbatical, i find myself writing some sort of long form reflection for you guys but to be frank, mostly for myself. reflection—which used to be a daily practice for me—has regretfully become a lost art of mine. the desire is there but the space is sparse. three kids 4 & under, a husband with a demanding job, squeezing in my own work when i can, simply staying fed, & our familial knack for taking on a new house project every other week means the days are surely full to the brim, so time to “chew the cud” as my best friend so brilliantly calls it below…is paper thin.

The part about now having two children that I didn’t consider is that there is very little space to process any conscious thought…

…You’re in the middle of wiping one poopy booty to another and then scooping bug juice (aka what my toddler calls ear wax) from an ear…then pouring a glass of juice to then thinking about what’s next for a successful trip to the garage to successfully load into the car…meanwhile screaming over the chaos to ask Alexa what day it is because you cannot forget trash day again due to all those poopy diapers…

Time to process large thinking is very small. It’s never really quiet, so how does one have time to really chew the cud at all?

& yet i find myself longing desperate to chew the damn cud as i actively live these good old days. i want to chew it & make art & fight to find the right words like i once did & share those sentences like i once did & at the same time…i feel paralyzed to the bone, so staying quiet or at best, shallow, feels safest, easiest. there is a potent oddness & vulnerability in being somewhat of an OG in an industry (content creation, influencer, whatever you wanna call it) & feel inexplicably like a fish out of water—when it comes to the internet, i have everything & nothing to say all at once so then i wonder if i’ve simply aged out. (i realize this is sounding like a diary entry so forgive me OR turn back now because remember, i’m mostly writing to/for myself here).

i have a lot of dear friends in this industry & i’ve come to realize sharing online means something vastly different to each person. we might be doing the “same job” but we are all looking to give & get different things from this peculiar job. i marvel at the simplicity of some friends ability to jump on the newest trends & go viral overnight, their follower count & bank account ticking upward. i admire the steadfastness of others to simply make beautiful things with no mind of the profit or lack thereof. i wonder what it would be like to mimic the friends who leave for good & bask in digital minimalism. i find myself somewhere in between all of these options. the truth is—i have lost heart in my vocation while still managing to earn a substantial income that changes my family’s life. the paradox of this gnaws at me. i often feel reduced to a link-making machine (self-induced, to be clear) while also feeling tapped out to give much more to my followers than cursory roundups of cute clothes i bought for my kiddos because i’m spending so much time tending to their bottomless bellies & souls.

^ the bottomless bellies & souls in question :)

we can all agree the digital landscape feels so loud (with decibels increasing by the day) so i argue with myself (& sometimes with others) over whether the most morally responsible thing to do is to stop talking, stop sharing altogether—as to not increase the noise since i radically believe we all need more quiet. the tech gods are shouting, demanding “cacophony!” in the streets & we protest in anger & then play along as their pockets get deeper & our souls get emptier.

i believe phone addiction is the most socially accepted addiction to exist. we’re all under its spell therefore we rarely recognize the detriment or even existence of the addiction, drunk on it’s alluring haze of distraction. i often think about how if a friend was spending five hours a day at the casino with a family at home, or compulsively taking sips of whiskey every ten minutes, i would be troubled enough to hold an intervention for them. meanwhile, we don’t flinch at the slot machine masked as a phone you/i/we keep in our VERY pockets & the incessant reaching for the phone like an alcoholic reaches for the bottle. the imagery haunts me & jolts me awake.

& yet for what it’s worth…while i think the answer for some is a flip phone or a full on exodus from these apps, i do not think that is the answer for all. i do not (yet) feel my own answer to this impossible predicament is to retreat completely. i do not believe it’s black & white, as if to stay is evil & to leave is holy. as with most conflicts, there is nuance. & so a year later i find myself here again once more, a month logged out of the haze, yet still in the gray area—tempted to exit, propelled to stay—fueled by a belief in our discernment & ability to consecrate that which threatens to derail us, my own inner flame to use my voice. & while perhaps less nobly nevertheless motivated by the space & souls & paycheck i’ve grown through years of showing up.

i spent the last era of my life finding my voice & learning to use it again. i am not interested in taking steps backwards by muffling it now. i have things to say & make, & i plan to unearth them. deep things, frivolous things, unfinished things, polished things, any “thing” i see fit because well…why not?

so to that i say, cue the music! one thing about me is once the music starts, i don’t stop singing easily…

perhaps we can choose to be songbirds—singing true & good melodies over & through the dissonance. perhaps we can be trailblazers—resilient & disciplined enough to say “that’s enough screentime for today.” perhaps we can be watchmen—calling one another higher simply by being electrically present. perhaps we can simply choose to be radically alive—waking each other up from our slumber of distraction, as many times as it takes because there is no thrill like fully embodying our own stories. perhaps there’s a better way. & if there is, i’m determined to find it.

i did absolutely nothing grand this past month offline. i am not a brand new person evidencing a spiritual awakening…but i do like myself more…i like my life more & that’s REALLY saying something. my brain feels quiet, my priorities clearer, my body rested, my house more orderly, & my home more full of peace (& fun). turns out you DO indeed find time for the things that matter most, when you stop passively giving it away to mindless scrolling & quick hits of dopamine. just like that…i found some time to chew the cud after all. i wish you potent hours or even minutes, to do the same.

i wish you sunday mornings with pancakes & no technology in sight. i wish you deep slumber without a phone within reach. i wish you afternoon tea with a pen to paper. i wish you winter walks where the chilled air eases your worries as it fills your lungs. i wish you long, hot showers that clear your head & gift you fresh ideas. i wish you evenings where time stands still as you marvel at the twinkle in your baby’s eyes. i wish you warm cookies & milk with friends while you lose track of time. & most of all, i wish you endurance to fight the good fight—the worthy fight towards a present life.

for is there a fight more worthwhile than forging a life you are proud of?

my phone has been an intruder cosplaying as a tool.
my path to putting it in its place is unique to me, as is yours.

but we are humans—
long before we had these light boxes
calling to us like sirens from the sea
we built civilizations.
we make families!
we create masterpieces!
we are beautifully alive!
brimming with brilliance &
i believe we can be like the songbirds—
larks flying high & singing free
even—especially
in the digital den of lions.