The Social Media Sabbatical Series: Part 2 of 3 - Finding Stillness

Without a conscious thought I rolled over, turned the alarm off on my phone and swiped open Instagram. My eyes squinted as the blue light beaming from the screen pierced the early morning darkness. Before the app could fully load, I remembered the intention I had set the day before on the drive home from the harrowing experience on the Kern River; no social media for 30 days.

Shit. Scolding myself I quickly clicked away and set the phone done. Ozzie, the 80-pound Samoyed, grunted and flopped back over in disgust. The dog that loves everyone was disappointed in me.

Over the next 7 days I would catch myself repeatedly, without thought, swipe open my phone and press the purple and orange camera image icon. I had performed the action so many times that now I was doing it simply out of habit and muscle memory.  The sabbatical was proving to be more difficult than I had anticipated and confronting this deeply engrained unconscious habit was making me take pause.  

As my weakness awareness grew, I began to lean more heavily into a key personal focus for the year, learning to trust myself, completely.

It’s in an interesting question to ponder. Do I trust myself, all the way? Can I trust myself to show up for myself? To follow through on the things that will support the vision I’ve set for my life.  And if I don’t, what is it costing me?

I was quickly learning that when it came to social media, I didn’t trust myself and if I was going to make it 30 days, I would need to expand my capacity when it came to these tools.

And let’s be clear, tools are exactly what they are. Neither good nor bad social media is simply a mechanism for connection, service, support, play, etc. But if we allow it, it can rob us of our joy, present moment awareness, and broader impact. We’ve seen the data, we know the history. These platforms have been designed to capture our mindshare and not let go. They can’t. It’s too profitable.

Part of the seduction of social media is it gives us the ability to see how we measure up. The drug of choice for our egos. It loves to see where we rank. The ultimate tool of comparison. Supporting me in my quest to analyze and question; am I as successful, working as hard, as creative, as influential, doing enough or as much others, etc., etc.

The tragic inner tirade. The supreme thief of joy.

Comparison can be destructive enough on its own, but few things will compound its impact as a perfectly timed slowdown in your business and I was smack dab in the middle of mine prior to enter the rapids of The Kern and kicking off this digital detox adventure. When you enter the inevitable momentary valley in your work or business, painful as it may feel in the moment, you’re given the gift of confronting your cracks and offered the opportunity to shore up your ship.

As I rounded the corner on the second week of the sabbatical and the need to “check-in” began to subside, a noticeable space opened up. Not just in my day but in mind. Space to think. Space to create. Space to vision the future. Space to shore up my ship. Space to simply be present to the moment and be still. This became especially heightened in the early morning hours of my routine.

I like to think of our minds like glasses of water and in the early morning hours, after a good night’s rest, the water is calm and clear. All of the debris and sentiment (The swarm of thoughts) settled to the bottom, allowing us for a brief moment in time, to see through the water like a telescope looking out onto our future state. The challenge is, the second we open our digital devices and allow the onslaught of noise and distraction in, it’s as if we’ve shook the glass and swirled the sentiment causing the once clear and still water to run murky and thick, cutting us off from the clarity and connection once available.

What I discovered by week three was that when I kept the glass still by not checking my phone in those early morning hours, the water remained clear and when the water was clear, I could see and hear everything I needed. Ideas, guidance, feelings of peace, ease, and grace were all made available to me. And from that powerful place of stillness I could take the actions needed to move me towards my vision and power me through the momentary slow down.

As the dog days of summer closed in and I approached the 30-day mark, I could feel momentum building in both the quality of the work but also and perhaps even more interestingly, sales. Numbers were up. Way up. In fact, we were pacing to set a new monthly record. Something profound was happening and I didn’t want to throttle the progress. I knew exactly what I needed.

Another 30 days.