I Gave Up Social Media for a Day. What Happened Surprised Me.
Social media is one of my favorite drugs, because it’s accessible at a moment’s notice. An uncomfortable feeling comes up, and there’s a flood of sweet relief waiting in my pocket.
I’ve told myself this is a “bad habit,” but the alternative seemed to be experiencing more suffering. And who would choose that?
Last week, I spent a day in a forest retreat center away from wifi and phone service. I still took my phone out every now and then to check if there were any new notifications, even though I knew there wouldn’t be any. But then something happened that surprised me.
Instead of finding a replacement for social media, I took the opportunity to practice being present. When a difficult emotion came up, I practiced feeling it in my body, and giving it my full attention.
I noticed that when I’m fully present with a challenging emotion — say embarrassment, or grief — there is a sort of pleasure in it, like the pleasure of jumping into an icy lake, or the burning in my muscles during a long run. It’s the sensation of being alive — awake to my senses.
I was intrigued enough to continue the practice when I got home. As the days wore on, I noticed something unexpected: my experience of positive emotions was deeper, sharper, too.
It was as if I’d been mindlessly eating while filling out reports at my desk, only to notice the meals I’d been consuming were from a five-star restaurant. I actually tasted them for the first time — the delicate flavors of the emotions, the way they merge or complement each other.
I experienced the pleasure of sitting in the evening sunlight having dinner on the deck with my family, the rush of love when I said goodnight to my wife, the joy of watching my baby laugh when he glimpsed his reflection in the mirror.
But I also felt the pleasure of sitting with my own grief, like putting an arm around a friend. Or of being with my frustration, like calming an angry stallion.
I realized that I have been robbing myself of this joy. By avoiding my emotions, I’ve been denying myself the chance to experience being fully alive.
And this opportunity is precious, because I don’t know how much life I have left. How I spend the next week could be how I spend my final days on this earth.
I am making a commitment to myself to be more deliberate about feeling the emotions that come up, and not numbing myself — not because it’s a “bad habit,” but because the alternative is so much richer and more joyful.
Each day, you and I are offered an invitation to live fully. But this means feeling fully. Nobody describes this better than Rilke does:
You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.
Embody me.
Flare up like a flame
and make big shadows I can move in.
Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.
Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.
Give me your hand.
From Rilke’s Book of Hours: Love Poems to God, translated by Anita Barrows and Joanna Macy.
