Social Media Hiatus: 6 Weeks In

So, back at the end of September, I decided to take a hiatus from all social media for the remainder of 2020.

Three months off.

No Instagram or Facebook or Twitter for a full 3 months.

Not for business. Not for election news. Not to check on photos of all my friends’ adorable kids and dogs.

Zero social media.

And I’m here to report back from 6 weeks in.

First, I want to clarify why I’m taking this hiatus.

I’m not trying to make any sweeping statements about social media being evil or anything like that.

I actually feel like, generally speaking, I have a pretty good relationship with social media overall.

I’ve been careful over the years to curate my feeds to include people who inspire me and teach me and I rarely suffer from any comparison hangovers because my feed is simply too full of people I genuinely like and admire for that nonsense to get in the way.

But.

I was struck hard by a single sentence spoken by Cal Newport in his TED Talk.

He commented that the constant fragmentation of our attention— most often related to social media use— can have a permanent impact on our ability to focus and concentrate.

That word— permanent— grabbed my attention.

You see, almost every single thing that is important to me requires a solid foundation of focus and concentration.

Whether it’s sitting down to write these posts or paying careful attention to what my clients are saying in our sessions or working on my novel or simply being an aware and engaged human being as I move through my days and interactions, my ability to concentrate on what I’m doing in that moment is critical to living the kind of life that I want to live.

The idea that I could be doing permanent damage to my brain’s capacity for concentration gave me enough pause that I was willing to experiment with 3 months without it.

So…has it made a difference?

Short answer: yes, definitely.

Longer answer: yes, definitely, and also it’s had some unexpected consequences (good ones!), and also I admit that I still miss it.

It was jarring to realize just how much I was picking my phone up to “glance” at Instagram.

Equally jarring was realizing when I was picking it up (hint: smack in the middle of ‘concentrating’ on something I cared about).

It took several weeks to stop picking it up and randomly opening other apps just to have a reason to mess with my phone.

What a weird habit to struggle with, right?

It felt weird to me, anyway.

The thing I’ve come to treasure most, which I suppose I should have expected but honestly didn’t, is how much quieter my life feels.

I hadn't realized just how noisy all that input truly was.

And how hard it can be to hear my own voice over it.

Maybe it’s my hardwiring or maybe it’s just the most recent manifestation of 2020 pandemic world, but once things got quieter, I realized that I’m a lot more sensitive to the noise than I’d imagined.

It turns out that a lot of input is deeply exhausting.

That likely shouldn’t have surprised me as much as it did, but well, there it is.

Disclaimer: I’m very introverted (I’m not shy at all, but alone time is my fountain of youth energy), so perhaps that’s part of it? Any extroverts find the same thing?

This has led me to pull back in some other ways as well. I’m listening to fewer podcasts and watching less tv and even taking days each week where I put my phone on airplane mode for the entirety of the day.

I’m limiting how many times per day and for how long I’m allowed to look at the NY Times app (possibly another one that should come off my phone) or the BBC’s front page. (yes, I actually set a timer before I open them)

I feel less frenetic, less pulled upon.

I’ve had some breakthroughs in my work and writing that have been game changers for me and I feel sure they came via the quiet.

I’ve reached out to friends for more meaningful interactions— I can’t just double tap a picture and feel connected, so I’ve sent texts and made calls and even written a few actual letters (like…with stamps and everything!).

Those individual interactions have led to a deeper feeling of gratitude for the people in my life and greater opportunity and inclination to tell them how much they mean to me. Which, I have to tell you, feels freaking incredible.

I admit that I miss it. More than I wish I did.

I miss following along on people’s adventures. (Have John and Sherry done anything new on their house? What antics have Dagwood, Bucket, and Birdie been up to in the Utah desert? #ifyouknowyouknow)

I miss having a place to easily share things that I come across that make me smile or inspire me or that I think others might enjoy, too.

I miss having a place to share the bits and bobs of my life, the random photos of Chili dog or a pretty tree or the glasses I just got (first ones ever!) and think are hilarious on me.

I’m not sure yet what form social media will take for me when these three months are over.

I suspect I’ll bring some of it back if I’m still missing those pieces.

But I don’t think I’ll ever put the apps back on my phone.

I don’t miss that part at all, don’t miss feeling compelled to constantly look at that bizarre little pocket computer that sometimes feels as though it’s running my life.

I don’t think that I’m finished learning what the quiet offers.

I’m hearing my own voice in ways that are new to me and it's both exciting and surprising.

I’d like to hear more and I’m learning to listen in this space where it’s a little quieter.

So…that’s my report from 6 weeks in.

Have you ever tried this? I’d like to hear what your experience was like or if you’ve ever considered doing it?

Are you feeling called toward some quiet right now as well?

Where are you in this whole pandemic-election-winter’s-coming world right now?

Keep taking really good care of yourself and be sure to give yourself some grace if life feels hard right now.

You’re not alone.