Instagram free bliss from sunset to sunrise.

The Creative Foundation
The Creative Foundation
6 min readMar 15, 2019

We learn something new every day. Well, we do if we are fully aware of how we are interacting with the world.

The thing that I learn and re-learn, every day, is to stop being distracted. Which means I may not be learning anything at all in this regard, but I certainly am trying. It’s the same thing day-in, day-out, being distracted by novelty. I am seduced by the promise of some revelationary insight from A.N.Other. This comes in many forms, but in this instance, I am talking about my current nemesis Instagram — a very particular brand of distraction. It eats up far too much of my time. It’s probably worth noting that some things that are relevant to my work and can sometimes be useful, but that’s a tiny percentage. A percentage minute enough not to warrant it being such a fixture in my everyday working life. Actually, even those moments of ‘discovery’ will often drag me into the rabbit hole of intrigue, and I begin the scroll of shame which squanders so much of my time.

Arguably, the neuroscientists on the tech companies payroll focus mainly on distraction when creating the ‘narco-algorithms’ — but it’s killing my focus.

It’s not so much the length of time I spend scrolling in any one sitting — this may be just momentary — but the frequency at which I do these mini-scrolls is alarming in its regularity. Like reaching for a pacifying cigarette, it’s an unhealthy habit — so by the end of some days, the cumulative effect is enormous. This time cannot be retrieved, and I feel as though I’ve been coshed over the head and suffered temporary amnesia. I have not remembered very much of what I have been looking at — seemingly large parts of my brain have been given over to the insta-overlord. Sometimes just clicking the ‘link in bio’ does pay dividends because I am given access to a whole new world of information — but maybe I’d prefer to uncover that access by some other means.

So I decided to just say no.

Day one went exceptionally well. I hadn’t planned ‘not to look’ on that particular day — I just left my phone in the house when I went out with the dogs at 5.30am. My usual reason for taking my phone is that I want to take pictures of the sunrise — which I usually do, but will invariably get sucked into the Insta vortex while posting yet another image of yet another sun rising over the mountains. Using Instagram at that unGodly hour does set a precedent for the day, it appears to be giving me permission to use it at will throughout my waking hours, and before you know it, I am posting yet another beautiful image of the sunset.

Opening the floodgates so early in the day leads to the opportunity for much time-wasting.

So by setting a new precedent — leaving my phone at home, out of reach — the flood gates would remain Instagram tight and my waking hours benefit from minimal attention seepage, from sunrise to sunset.

I read somewhere that the psychology associated with gambling and fruit machines is how social media hooks you in. The brain is intrigued to find out what’s next, chasing the win but often losing, which makes you even more determined to win again, and so on. A ‘win’ is obviously a cash reward on a fruit machine, but I’m not sure what a win on Instagram might be? Maybe it’s the excitement of being a voyeur into other peoples lives that keeps me coming back for more or the promise of a different kind of sunset?

It’s the drip, drip, drip that horrifies me — the hollow echo of the promise of further visual enchantment — before you know it you’ve scrolled passed numerous images of people in glamorous beach locations, subtitled ‘today’s office’.

Much like when my dogs get a scent, they will mindlessly follow it until it gets to a point where they have lost their bearings and are stuck in the middle of nowhere. I find myself blindly scrolling, trailing and meandering along a path into the centre of a void. As with the dogs, it takes a while to get back on track — which means more time wasted.

Social media platforms are a great thing if I have the discipline to keep a lid on my usage. My image archive is continually being expanded by taking images of things in the name of research. These images aren’t necessarily posted as I’m sure my interest in vernacular typography has a somewhat limited audience. That said, I am of course delighted that my peers do actually take the time to look and make a comment on the images I post — but when it results in me getting dragged into the mesmerising action of scrolling it is absolute anathema to my reasons for posting in the first place.

Actually, I’m not sure what my goals are for posting in the first place?

Being taken down an unexpected path is fine, but it is more surprising and more revealing if the path is self-initiated. This kind of track is best because it is not being pre-determined by a distraction greedy algorithm. It’s a much more rewarding to feel you are travelling along under your own steam and not being led. The sunrise looks amazing whether I ‘Instagram’ it or not, let’s just leave it where it is. We can pretty much rely upon on the sun doing its thing whether we share it or not, sharing it does not enhance my wonder of it. The very thought of insta-ing an image of the sun rising or falling fills me with a sense of ‘been here before’ and a very foreboding fear of being sucked into the vortex of Instagram. Maybe there’s a simple solution — post images of a broader range of things?

Although this would still require industrial amounts of willpower to resist the temptation to scroll and scroll again.

Again I’ve not looked at Instagram today, and I feel all the better for it. The easiest thing to do is to post lovely images of my surroundings, but that’s too easy. The next time I post it will seek to have more pertinence to the essence of how I am progressing in revealing something ‘new’ — not a shot of a landscape that I shot earlier, or later in the day.

The most profound discoveries lie along the path I create for myself. This allows space for clear thought, focussed seeing and dynamic doing — all in my own time. Travelling, discovering, doing and learning at your own speed works wonders for clarity, focus and progress.

Taking pictures of the sunset might still get me out of bed in the morning, but there’s no real need to share them. I don’t think tech companies are quite ready to give me back my time, so I’ll take it back myself by choosing not to look. Let’s see if I can discipline myself to do that — now, tomorrow, next week and so on.

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