.SOMETIMES RAW.

via The New Yorker

I have spent the last several weeks without my phone tethered to my side, and I need to tell you, it has been glorious. 

Not in a dramatic, life-altering, let’s-sell-everything-and move-to-a-cave-in-the-woods sort of way. Just quietly, steadily better. 

I started small. Leaving it in the bedroom while I drank my coffee. Tossing it in my bag and not reaching for it while moving through the day. Letting it exist somewhere nearby but not on me, not glowing, not asking anything of me.

This gave me a lot of anxiety at first. 

Someone texted me, and they’re going to think I’m ignoring them. So and so texted again. They definitely think I’m ignoring them. What if it’s urgent? What if I’m missing something? Am I being rude?

It took about a week and a half to realize something very simple. This is not my problem.

We have collectively agreed—without actually agreeing to it—that we are available at all times. That every message deserves an immediate response. That silence, even for an hour, is suspicious. And I just… opted out.

Nothing bad happened. No one’s life unraveled because I answered later or the next day. The world did not end because I was unreachable for a stretch of time. The texts I feared could be urgent were not.

What did happen is I got my attention back. And once my attention was mine, everything else followed.

I started doing things that have been sitting quietly on the sidelines of my mind for months.

I deep-cleaned my house. Which, I have to say, was both difficult and highly satisfying. I deep-cleaned and organized parts of my big garden and I had been politely ignoring for an embarrassing amount of time. I built things with my own two hands, slowly and imperfectly, but completely.

I returned to reading and writing more. Not skimming or paying half-attention while checking on something else, but actually reading. Letting my mind stay there, undisturbed.

I’ve leaned into small rituals of self-care. Longer showers. Skincare that’s not rushed. Taking the time to get dressed and trying new outfits. Making a real breakfast. Moving more slowly in the mornings. Letting things take the time they take.

I’ve spent more time with my family in a way that feels undistracted. Conversations that stretch. Details obtained and remembered. Moments that aren’t interrupted by the impulse to check something, respond to something, or appease a short attention span by scrolling. There has been connection in a way that I didn’t really realize had been missing until I got it back again.

Work has expanded in a way where I’m accomplishing more than I did before. I’ve been more present and focused on the task in front of me rather than splitting my attention or getting distracted and pulled away in different directions.

And Instagram—honestly, Instagram who? 

I cannot tell you how long that app has had a strange, low-grade hold over me. Not in a way that I enjoyed, but out of habit. Boredom. Pick up phone, tap icon, scroll, repeat. I don’t get on for days now. Days! And it’s fucking incredible. I don’t miss it. And when I do get on, I’m off within a few minutes because I’d rather be doing something else.

There’s actual data behind these claims, which makes it all feel a little less anecdotal and a little more alarming. The average person checks their phone between 90 and 150 times a day. That’s once every ten minutes or so. Screen time reports regularly clock in at between 3 and 5 hours daily. Studies have been linked to increased anxiety, decreased attention span, and disrupted sleep. This figure is startling. Even more startling is that most of us have been aware of this for years, but continue justifying our phone addiction while complaining about our anxieties and not having any time. I definitely did. 

It’s not that technology is inherently bad. It’s that it’s constant. And anything constant becomes pressure. Expectation. A subtle anxiety that we should be checking, responding, looking, knowing, and refreshing. And if we don’t, oddly, we feel behind or like we’re missing out on something big. We’re not. 

Putting the phone down will not fix all of your problems, but it removes that hum. And in its place is something much quieter, something much more yours.

I’m not saying that I won’t be on my phone, on social media, or online. Of course I will. But things felt different for me over the past few weeks, and gave me some perspective.

I don’t have anything revolutionary to offer here. No system, no rules, no rigid boundaries. 

Just this:

Try leaving your phone in the other room when you’re at home. Leave it in your bag while you’re out. Go about your day without it in your hand, by your side, or in your pocket.

It is allowed.

You are allowed not to respond immediately. You are allowed to not be reachable at all times. You are allowed to move through your day without documenting it, interrupting it, or reaching for it.

The addiction is real. That part is undeniable. It’s kind of miraculous how quickly things shift once you create even a small amount of space from it.

I wanted my time back. And without much ceremony, I took it.

Sometimes, it is not about working all this overtime and cashing in. It is also important to have actual time off to do what makes you happy. For example, to spend time with yourself in that house or apartment you are paying for, because money is not everything. You will never get back that time. Unless you subscribe to Free Time. This is how you can get all your time spent at work back. Remember: Subscribe to Free Time.

From the innovators who brought you Taking a Nap and Just Chilling, Free Time is a luxury experience beyond your wildest dreams.

Free Time isn’t just a new product—it’s a total wellness optimization platform. It’s not an app but rather a mind-blowing vessel of unstructured time where you can do anything your heart desires, or nothing at all.

Your Free Time comes loaded with options that are as boundless as your imagination. You can lie on the couch and read a novel, or just space out and drool. Go for a walk if you want. Stop and stare at a bird and take dozens of pictures, if that’s your kink.

Do you want to buy a big pretzel and eat it for twenty minutes, even though that sounds like way too long? Go for it. This is Free Time. Dip it in cheese and stand around like an idiot while you chew your pretzel and watch everyone run around like rats. Why are they all so fast and angry? Because they don’t have Free Time.

Want lower blood pressure? Less work anxiety? Fewer violent urges? Free Time delivers all of those.

Would you like to wander around a nearby park, randomly try a headstand, then give up, and buy three different types of tacos? That’s been a core feature of Free Time since day one.

Our competitors offer products like “Overscheduled Vacation” and “Performative Hobby to Brag About on Instagram.” But peer-reviewed studies show that these products require constant maintenance, and Free Time is up to 83 percent more effective at letting you just lie in the grass and twirl a stick while you think, “Dude, life awesome.”

We’ve even upped the ante with Free Time 2.0. In previous versions, a random birthday party for your coworker could sneak onto your calendar, destroying your Free Time. In 2.0, we’ve removed him and you won’t see his text messages anymore.

Questions? Read on.

FAQS

“Isn’t Free Time for kids? It feels morally wrong for me to have some.”
Absolutely not. Free Time is suitable for all ages.

“How come I’ve never heard of Free Time before?”
Because society is sick.

“How do I activate the ‘do nothing’ feature?”
This is one of Free Time’s most popular features. To activate, simply fire up your Free Time, then don’t do anything else.

“Is Free Time bad for me?”
No. Who told you that?

“My wife/husband/in-law learned I have Free Time, and they became aggressive.”
Don’t worry. Your purchase includes a defense guide with quick responses—e.g., “I am a human, and all humans need Free Time!” or “Hey, look, a squirrel!”

“A coworker FaceTimed me during my Free Time and asked, ‘Hey, you coming to my birthday party?’ Help!”
Contact customer support. We will deal with him.

“I feel like I’m letting everyone down when I have Free Time. How do I stop the shame?”
These feelings are natural. Just fire up your Free Time. Then wander over to a matinee movie and eat a large popcorn. Then, go home and read a book called An Illustrated History of Dragons and have pancakes for dinner. The guilt will recede into the background.

“Should I answer my phone during Free Time?”
We don’t recommend it. It might be a call from your uncle, who just got out of prison and wants you to invest in his personal cryptocurrency, T-Coin. Don’t pick up. Don’t let him take your Free Time.

– – –

WARNING: Free Time has been proven addictive in clinical trials. Side effects include a relaxed shit-eating grin that will make people think you’re up to no good. Free Time may make you reflect on your pathological need to overstuff your calendar to prove your self-worth. It is not refundable or transferable. Free Time is part of a balanced lifestyle that should also include “Actually Doing Things” and “Contributing to Your Family and Society.” Please use Free Time responsibly.

via The New Yorker

We learnt self-pity when we were young. It was a sunny Sunday afternoon; you were 9 years old. Your parents wouldn’t let you have any ice cream unless you did your maths homework. It was achingly unfair. Every other child in the world was playing football or watching television. No one else has such a mean mother. It was just awful. We are all, in theory, dead against self-pity. It seems deeply unattractive because it reveals egoism in its most basic form: the failure to put our own suffering into proper perspective against the larger backdrop of human history. We lament our tiny disasters and look coldly on the grand tragedies of the world. A problem with one’s fringe or a wrongly cooked steak dominates the mind while we ignore work conditions in China, for example.

No one likes to own up to self-pity. And yet, if we are honest, it’s something we feel quite often. And in fact, it’s often a rather sweet emotion. The fact is, we do deserve a great deal more pity than other people are ever very likely to bestow upon us. Life is, in truth, horrendously hard in many ways, even if one does have a top-notch data plan and an elegantly designed fridge. Our talents are never fairly recognised, our best years will necessarily drift away, and we won’t find all the love we need. We deserve pity, and there isn’t anyone else around to give it to us, so we have to give ourselves a fair dose. The operative cause might, from a lofty perspective, seem ridiculous – poor me, I will never drive a Ferrari; it’s so sad, I thought we were going to a Japanese restaurant, and they have booked a pub. But these are just the convenient opportunities for immersing ourselves in a much bigger issue: the fundamental sorrows of existence, for which we do genuinely deserve the most tender compassion.

Imagine what things would be like if we couldn’t pity ourselves. We would be in that far worse category of mental discomfort: depressed. The depressed person is someone who has lost the art of self-pity, who has become too rigorous with themselves. If you think of a parent comforting a child, they often spend hours on a very minor thing: a lost toy, the children’s party to which one was not invited. They are not being ridiculous; they are, in effect, teaching the child how to look after themselves and giving space to the important idea that “small” upsets can have very large internal consequences. Gradually, we learn to mimic this parental attitude with ourselves and come to feel sorry for ourselves when no one else will. It is not necessarily entirely rational, but it is a coping mechanism.

It is a first protective shell, which we develop in order to be able to manage some of the immense disappointments and frustrations that life throws at us. The defensive posture of self-pity is far from contemptible. It is touching and important. Many religions have given expression to this attitude by inventing deities who look with inexpressible pity upon human beings. In Catholicism, for instance, the Virgin Mary is often presented as weeping out of tenderness for the miseries of normal human life. Such kindly beings are really projections of our own need to be pitied.

Self-pity is compassion we extend to ourselves. A more mature aspect of the self turns to the weak and lost parts of the psyche and comforts them, strokes them, tells them it understands and that they are indeed lovely but misunderstood. It allows them to be, for a while, a bit babyish – since that is actually what they are. It provides the undemanding, confirming love that every baby, but far more importantly, every adult, needs to get through the anguish of existence.

The hope is that we can, for a while, turn away from current affairs towards the elevated, the silent, and the eternal. Normally, we are immersed in practical, self-justifying outlooks that are the hallmarks of what we could call “lower” consciousness. At such moments, the world reveals itself as quite different: a place of suffering and misguided effort, full of people striving to be heard and lashing out against others, but also a place of tenderness and longing, beauty and touching vulnerability. One’s own life feels less precious; one can contemplate being no longer present with tranquility. One’s interests are put aside, and one may imaginatively fuse with transient or natural things: trees, the wind, clouds, nature, or waves breaking on the shore. From this point of view, status is nothing, possessions don’t matter, and grievances lose their urgency. If certain people could encounter us at this point, they might be amazed at our transformation and at our newfound generosity and empathy.

Fusing with nature might help and is probably better than doomscrolling Instagram or the news while stress-eating chocolate. When I feel down, I return to (and share) my go-to strategies for resetting whenever things feel particularly heavy.

Unplug (No Really, Put the Phone Down)

We were not designed to mainline news and information 24/7. Try this: set a timer for 30 minutes of phone-free time. Go for a walk without it. Leave it in another room while you eat dinner. Delete the news apps or social media for a day or a weekend. Whatever helps you break the scroll-panic-scroll cycle. 

Focus on Your Actual Sphere of Influence

This takes practice but I’m trying to focus my attention on my actual sphere of influence – the tiny actions I can take each day that can make a real impact. This can be as tiny as being kind to the people I encounter at the grocery store, spending quality time with my kid before bed, or helping a friend.

Try a Flow State Activity 

Flow state is when you become so absorbed in an activity that your brain stops spinning and time disappears. For some people, it’s working on a giant puzzle, baking a pie from scratch, or getting lost in a craft project. I find flow when I’m cleaning out my closet or reorganizing a junk drawer. Figure out what works for you now, so you have it ready when you need it most.

Get Up and Move

When I had a hard time at work, I have a strong pull to stay on the couch, be grumpy, and eat foods that are terrible for my body. Sometimes I succumb, but whenever possible, I push myself to get outside and move – some fresh air and a walk around the neighborhood, a yoga class, jogging, or a walk with a friend. It always helps. 

Write Write Write

Writing has always been deeply therapeutic for me. It’s a way of cleaning out my brain, downloading the swirl, and (sometimes / often) gaining clarity and perspective. I just set a blank notebook on my desk and have started writing a few pages each morning when I wake up, but most often in the evening.

Be So Nice to Yourself

Don’t skip this one. When things get stressful, self-care can go straight out the window. Now is the time to practice good boundaries, self-compassion, stay hydrated, eat well, and rest up. 

Watch a Comfort Show

Sometimes you really do just need to curl up into a ball and fully check out. For those times, I recommend plugging into a great show or movie that feels like a warm hug. Taking all the recs.

So, to bring a bit of positivity to everything, focus on what you are doing with your life right now. How are your relationships going? What are your backup plans? What do you value and why? We should make the most of them when they arise and harvest their insights for the time when we require them most. And, the surest way to correct faulty thinking is the repetition of concise, constructive, harmonious thoughts. Now, cheer up, buttercup.