Lessons Learned from 5 weeks (and counting) Off Social Media
Plus your invitation to journey deeper together
Five weeks ago today, I deleted all social media apps from my phone for the first time in ten years.
That’s sort of embarrassing to say out loud when I type it out.
Really, ten years of constantly having some form of social media app downloaded and accessible on my phone?
For a decade (and probably more if I’m honest), Instagram and Facebook have played a role in some way or another as part of my daily routine.
Sure, I was intentional over the years about taking breaks, and putting in plenty of guardrails (like no phone in the bedroom) but never has there been a true clean break for any amount of time that was significant enough to FULLY reset my nervous system. I’d more or less successfully abided by the suggested tech break rhythm of taking one hour a day, one day a week, and one week a year off from social media as recommended in Andy Crouch’s book The Techwise Family.
That was helpful, but has become increasingly harder and harder as the spaces and places that lend themselves to truly disconnect and be off the grid have dwindled.
Wifi is freaking everywhere. And we have the temptation of full access to anything at all times. Information & digital age perks. ;)
We used to go camping on the river in Eastern Washington every year with our friends. The tradition started during Blake’s teenage years with many of his high school buddies. Slowly over the years as they each added a significant other (myself included), we’d journey over east of the mountains where the sun shines a significant amount of time more, in our tents for a week of hanging on the river, playing games, and staying up late around the campfire. We never got service at the spot we’d frequent and it was glorious. We’d all put in requests at our respective jobs, some of us even prioritizing traveling up for the annual trip as we’d moved out of state with each passing season of life. Being off the grid, together at the river, became one of our most treasured times each year.
Once that spot got wifi, and cell service was now readily accessible, it wasn’t ever the same. The glow of a cell phone around the campfire at nights just hits different.
To truly disconnect from the world where we’re so “connected” has become harder and harder. Finding those places has become next to impossible, and most definitely doesn’t just happen anymore. It requires massive intentionality as I discovered this summer.
And if I’m fully honest with myself, I’ve resisted fully deleting the apps for a significant period of time justifying “that it’s my work”, or “I’m not addicted to it” - everything is under control and it doesn’t have a hold on me, using my weekly screen time report as the metric to determine that (if it was up, whoops, not great. If it was down - regardless of the duration listed, then it was proof I was in control).
Based on the log I kept in my notes app on my phone for the first 20 days, I’d say that last sentiment is most definitely a lie.
A friend texted me this morning, knowing full well that my kids went back to school yesterday, and I am noticeably still absent from social media.
How was your sabbatical? How was your trip? How do you feel?
Even just hearing the past tense for sabbatical made me question internally, “Is it over? Soul, are you ready for this break to be over?”
Which leads me to wonder if the break, what was always intended to be a semi colon, is actually a period.
Probably not, but I’d be lying if I said I was excited or feeling inspired to get back to online life.
Upon reflecting on the last few weeks, one of the lessons that bubbles up the quickest for me is how liberating and empowering it felt to live all these really fun, completely social media worthy adventures, in the last month+ and not have ANYONE know about it except our very closest people, and the people we were with.
As a fulltime content creator, who willingly has signed up (and loves) to share most of my life with whomever wants to journey along with us, it was WILD and so EMPOWERING to have all these adventures every single day, and have no one know about it.
Turns out, your heart can still feel so full (arguably more full?) when you live your days without any of it being documented for public consumption, commentary, peanut gallery-ing, and likes.
The dopamine hits came from real life conversations, shared glances in weird moments, inside jokes, and memory deposits that will forever mark the summer of my 40th year. All in real time, in real life (IRL as the kids say).
It was so refreshing, and intoxicatingly empowering, to connect with our closest friends, and share moments either in person or sometimes via text when I’d reach outside our immediate people present, that no one else would know about unless we talked.
It felt special.
Which is funny, because isn’t the whole plot line of social media that we’re so CONNECTED?
If that’s true, then someone please explain the loneliness epidemic that scholars, government officials, authors, educators, and literally EVERY OTHER modern day American is starting to shout from the rooftops and warn us about.
Left me pondering how, and why, I felt more connected off social media.
There was a noticeable moment where I felt my nervous system fully reset during this sabbatical, and time off social.
Our 4th stop of our month-long “Tour de PNW”, we landed at our dear friends’ beach house south of Tacoma, WA.
It was night one of our three night stay there, the kids were all tucked into their bunks, and us four adults - with beverage of choice in hand - were catching up on life lived since the last time we saw them. The tide was coming in, sun had just dipped below the horizon for the night, and every so often we could see the tiny heads of harbor seals popping up, progressively closer and closer to where we sat on the back deck couches, as the tide came closer and closer to the shoreline.
It was in that moment that I interrupted our conversation as I felt a physical, visceral reset of our my nervous system.
“Oh my word, I literally just felt my nervous system reset and align,” I blurted out.
I think I was shocked and surprised that it was such a distinct, noticeable physical feeling.
Because I had been off social at that point for 9 days, fully going through all the phases of a true detox (but definitely not addicted right?).
But it wasn’t until we got away. To a spot on the ocean with no road noise, zero screens available within the home, with some of our most dear dear friends, that I felt this wave of serenity full wash over me.
Almost as if my entire soul let out a huge breath.
It was an alignment, or resting state, in my heart & soul that I didn’t know I was missing. Or needed.
Felt like I was camping by the river, like we did in our twenties, again.
Since that moment, I’ve been left me in this continual state of high vibe (to get woo-woo on you) place of existence.
I realize that also is in part to my love affair I’ve been having with the romance book genre this summer.
Where social media has previously been my primary inputs & deposits on the daily, I replaced it this summer with books - 99.9% of them being fiction. At last count, I think I’m at 30 books DEVOURED this summer. Most of them all completely light-hearted, easy summer love stories and romances.
Getting lost in someone else’s goodness, the beauty and natural high of falling in love, has helped me see my own reality through that same lens.
I didn’t realize until I reflected, that the ups and downs that consuming social media brings also impacts my psyche, my outlook on life, and my filter.
Toxic in, toxic out.
Garbage in, garbage out.
Goodness in, goodness out.
The one non-fiction book I’ve crawled my way through (not due to lack of solid content) has been John Mark Comer’s Practicing the Way where his main assertion is that we are all being formed & influenced by something, so what is it that we’re allowing ourselves to be formed by?
Despite my justifications that “it was primarily for work” or “I had it under control”, knowing how my body is right now, how I feel on the inside, how my heart & brain are currently looking out at the world, I know without a shadow of doubt that I had allowed social media to have too much hold on me. And like any good poison, the best are ones that are tainting you in subtle ways, without you even being aware of their damage or control they have on you. Like a thief in the night.
If that sounds dramatic, try detoxing for 30 days and then tell me how you feel on the other side. ;)
More summer sabbatical reflections & thoughts (including manuscript updates & the exciting, yet scary, adventure I got a vision to tackle next) coming shortly.
For now, make sure you share this post with your people who are interested in chasing down the very best life has to offer, in probably unconventional ways that mainstream America will think is weird, and subscribe for the stories of how we’re going to do it. Because one thing I did learn from this summer sabbatical is that there’s always a story to tell…and this place we’re carving out together here, this journey, is just getting started.
listening to this as we drove away from
our summer trip where i wasn’t sharing on social daily, actually only once. and the freedom it felt — the ease to be in the moment. yes, the camera was out to capture moments for later years but was everything captured on photo? nope.
loved your perspective and journey you are on to find the rhythm that social will play in your life. sharing is a part of you AND how can that still be done with out taping on the social icon consistently. i’m right there with you and on this journey as you share what comes up for you.
as you also say — create more than you consume.