insights from a digital pause

how do you measure a life?—Raw Material #42

Thank you for abiding me shoving the essay-equivalent of steamed, unseasoned kale down your throats. I’m aware that a slew of my recent emails have been finger-waggy and characterized by undertones of TRUST ME IT’S GOOD FOR YOU. I promise to unbury my sense of humor soon, but please allow me this last, cruciferous mouthful.

it took bleeding eyes to see

At January’s end, I found myself falling asleep with red lace around my sclera and a stinging ache at the back of my eyeballs. More than once I peeled my gaze from my phone having lost hours in blankness and confusion. I was having a bumpy time, which made me extra-vulnerable to reflections of my import and worth.

I started my days toasting bagels, checking Instagram, scrolling Notes, answering emails & reading news…trying to situate myself in the constellation of likes, needs and urgent happenings. My kids, meanwhile, yelped and raced around me, big laughs, pink butts. All the glory that cannot be measured.

Meanwhile, I kept waiting for the one jounce that would catapult me out of my constant, low-grade, anxious disappointment until I realized—my eyes were bleeding.

not on their phones

delete delete

My many hours online took me, eventually, to August Lamm’s illustrated pamphlet “You don’t need a smartphone.” I printed the guide, read it on paper and felt the instant loosening of relief. I also felt enraged. I wanted to put my smartphone on the nearest railroad track and shriek with glee when the train came.

One of the risks of the smartphone, Lamm notes, is that it’s not one thing—it’s all things. It’s a clever trap: when we go to look at the weather, we accidentally read the news, and then meander to social apps. I believe this is how I found myself shucking my desiccated eyeball off the screen 97% of the time.

BUT, I confess… some of my favorite memories have been documented by the camera in my pocket. It’s a convenience I love, and it enriches my life. I asked myself: can I make my smartphone dumb enough to break its hold? If I couldn’t, I’d buy that Nokia flip + a point-and-shoot Pentax.

Everything fun got axed.

For me, those were Substack Notes, Instagram, Safari, news apps and email. I spent a week with a ghost-twitch, looking for my lost icons, but it passed. I have not felt the urge to re-instate them, but if I do, I’ll buy a flip without delay. I’m primed.

What remains are sports scheduling apps, maps, messages, music/ podcasts and weather. I have no compulsion around these, so my phone use is near-zero. Unfortunately, a host of other digital demons crawled out of the space and quiet.

unhooking from urgency culture

The phone gave me a sense of being very important, even though I’ve designed myself to be not VIP at all—except to a small cadre of people to whom I am everything. My family is my reason for being. And, for the next bunch of years, the boys are in the kitchen or across the road at school. They can reach me.

Everything else—everyone else—is secondary, by my design.

So it’s weird how easily I’m pulled into the swirls and eddies of other peoples’ needs. This happens on my computer, too. If it’s not Nancy Pelosi, it’s the PA. Will you help us, Isabel! We need to raise $20,000 by the end of the hour! Gingerbread houses are almost sold out! Last chance to make your child happy!!