The Big Reset

How addicted are you to the things that lurk behind your screens?

I hadn’t realised just how deep my digital habits had burrowed into my brain. How many neural pathways have been formed? Murky Meta-financed trenches in which the range and potential of my creativity is trapped, tromping around with trenchfoot and all kinds of ghastly ailments.

I was gardening this weekend, and playing out with the kids in the sun.

I’ve made an active decision to stop using Meta’s Instagram and Facebook in light of their role in too many dubious happenings to remain in bed with. It’s a sacrifice in some senses. These places have enabled nutritious relatonships. But those relationships can only flourish if they exist in a permanent state, as opposed to getting lost under the digital dust these places tend to gather.

Anyway, given this, I found on numerous occasions that it was now a default learned behaviour to reach for my phone when I saw something I liked, or found interesting. As I did start patting my pocket, I stopped, and returned to the point of interest because now, I have no immediate place to share in, aside from directly with another human. This felt good.

What did I ever get from Instagram anyway? Granted, a funny or warm comment or two, but what was I surrendering in the time it took me to edit, share, and ‘engage’? This weekend I found I was present, and I kept the enjoyment for me. And, if I was moved enough to share it with another, well, I’d have to think about who might resonate with this thing the most, and that is much more personal.

As far as creativity, this is all so much better for that cause than a toss of this thing into the digital void, where those algorithms would stand before it; judge, jury, executioner. Fuck that.