I finally feel like I have a pretty good relationship with
social media these days. Unfortunately, I
can’t claim that I had the will-power or discipline to wean myself off of it. I
just didn’t want to pay for wifi (or a smartphone). But it wasn’t until 2
months without wifi that I realized I had finally broken my social media
addiction. Shortly after this realization, I also became aware of just how
addicted to social media I originally was.
Not only was I on it constantly,
but I found myself doing things, and taking pictures of me doing things, for
the sole purpose of posting it on Facebook.
I mean, everyone else’s lives look so awesome and
exciting…so I have to post things showing that my life is awesome and exciting
too, right? Otherwise, I just look like a total lame-o. A boring do-nothing. An
“eh” person in a sea of “whoah!” people. They have to know I’m not boring! I’m
a cool person! …Sort of. I just know I’m not lame, so everyone else needs to
know too, right? And boring facebook page = boring person….so…let’s work on my
page.
At least, that was my thinking.
Which is obviously complete folly.
In a way, I was living for
Facebook. I would document my every semi-cool experience to post on social
media in order to impress people. I would do things that I don’t think I would
normally do just to show people that I can do those things. When I went out
with friends, I would post a funny status and tag all of the people I just hung
out with so that everyone knows I actually have friends. I know what you’re
thinking: wow, she’s very insecure. To which I respond: yes, absolutely. And I
still have some insecurities to deal with, but (thanks to God) I’m nowhere near
where I was. I realize I may be the only person who uses social media in this
way, but this is what really happened. This is me spilling out this struggle…which
is what blogs are for (sometimes).
Well, after living with no internet, I stopped looking at
everyone else’s Facebook page, and consequently I stopped looking at my own.
But I kept being me. I kept doing the things that I love. I kept reading books
that I wanted to read. I kept having dance parties. The only
difference was that I could no longer tell everyone about every single thing
that I’m doing. And it honestly didn’t bother me. In fact, I believe I reached
a new level of enjoying those things because
I didn’t tell everyone about it, and I didn’t care who knew. It was just simple design: God made it for enjoyment, so I was enjoying it.
It’s amazing how much self-consciousness can take away from
a view of a mountaintop. Or the ocean. Or the fun of good company. I think the true
beauty of those things lies in a sense of self-inattention. Suddenly, you’re
not the most awesome thing on the planet. In an instant, in the time it takes
your ears to perceive a sound, or in the minuscule millisecond it takes for
your eyes to fixate on a scene, you realize the world is bigger than you. You’re
a tiny thread woven into a much bigger design. And it’s beautiful. Perhaps when you’ve experienced this, you began to
entertain this thought. But before this thought had fully been birthed, you
pulled out your iphone and made it all about you again. The longer I live, the
more I realize how self-focus ruins everything.
When was the last time you took a walk through the woods and
told no one else about it? (Okay, maybe you should tell one person for safety,
but you get my point). When was the last time you truly gazed at a sunset
instead of taking insufficient pictures of it to show everyone your awesome view of the awesome sunset
in your awesome town? When was the
last time you laughed with friends and genuinely enjoyed their presence without
any influence or thought of social media? The last time you went out with your
significant other and didn’t snap a selfie for Facebook purposes? If you’re
having a hard time remembering, you may be missing the full wondrous effect of
doing those things because you’ve tainted the noble purpose of doing them with
self-focused motives. You’re no longer just enjoying time with your wife.
You’re spending time with your wife and then posting about it to show everyone
that you’re a good husband. Or, you’re no longer purely enjoying the soft
breeze of the oceanfront. You’re enjoying the breeze, and then telling everyone
about it so they can admire how “down-to-earth” you are. You’ve ruined the pure
simplicity, beauty, and blessing that comes from those moments by adding an
ulterior motive. And that to me is kind of tragic.
I’m not saying we should never take pictures or post about
awesome things we’re experiencing. I love pictures. I love memories! I’m definitely one to take pictures of a
challenging hike or a breath-taking view of the ocean or me and a group of
friends at the fair. But what I am questioning is our motive for doing those things. I seriously think there’s a mental
and experiential difference between taking those pictures for my own sake and
then taking them for the sake of showing everyone else. It’s the difference
between being and proving to be. Being is effortless and enjoyable. Proving to be is exhausting and miserable, even if you’re proving
what you actually are. And I’ve definitely suffered from the effects of trying
to prove to be something, whether it was something I am or something I wish I
was.
So in a series of subtle life-style changes, I decided to
start living for much more than my virtual reputation. I started doing things that I enjoy for no
other reason than the fact that I enjoy them. I stopped posting to prove myself
to everyone else. I’m still not where I want to be in this area, but I’ve
seriously improved. And if someone looks at my empty Facebook page and
concludes that I’m a boring person, well…that’s fine with me. I might actually make that a goal. Because the more my page sucks, the more I’m out
chatting with someone or reading a book or doing something that I actually like. Because I don’t want to live on Facebook and I don’t want to live for Facebook. And you shouldn’t either.
