Today marks two months.
I always choose a fitting time to visit.
On my walk today, I found a marble.
A white opaque one with a blonde streak on one side.
It's good mental exercise to think about what this marble reminds me of.
Rolling them.
Gazing through them as if they are a spyglass into another universe.
Holding them.
Sliding on them.
Losing them.
White and glittery.
Cratered.
Orange tiger's eye.
I think about knocking them out of a circle, and what that circle might represent.
My head-losing one of the many, and if there are any to spare.
If "spare" is the correct term because in bowling, (another rolling ball game), to get a spare means that some have toppled over and you've successfully knocked out the remaining few.
This is only one marble I have here, and I'm walking around Ephrata with it.
What else do I remember about marble games?
I remember the marble game my grandparents had in the living room.
I would build connecting tracks, like the exit ramp of a parking garage.
They would fall down the hole at the end of each slide until they reached the bottom pool with the other descended marbles.
I would drop multiple marbles down at the same time to see which ones would reach the bottom first after clattering and intersecting with each other.
I don't feel the need to address that this memory of a toy reflects my current interests, conflicts, and worries clattering and intersecting.
I did anyway.
Before I know it, I'm pressing the white marble with the blonde streak into the dirt in between your headstones.
Confused about my offering, I deem it safe.
One level-dropping marble, spurned from its circle is now fixed in space.
Maybe it's one less thing for me to worry about.
Reservation about commitment.
Feeling concerning UFOs and UVOs.
My ability to keep a succulent alive.
If I'll forget you.
If I'll forget about the possibility of forgetting you.
What's the point value of a marble that has been excommunicated from the street and pressed into the dirt?
Does anyone win this game?
Monday, November 18, 2019
Written last December 2018
The other day on the ride home from work, I wound up watching a video on an experimental 30 day social media purge that a couple did together.
(I watched their 30 day sugar cleanse, and enjoyed their contrasting commentaries, so I clicked on the next video. That my friends, is how the YOUTUBE BLACK HOLE begins.)
I really enjoyed their dynamic. They were honest and verbal about their expectations, nervousness with coping, and their critiques and impressions after their 30 days without social media.
It struck me. I have thought about abstaining from endless scrolling for a few years. I've deliberated the idea only because I thought my personal craft business might suffer. But honestly, I never post that stuff as often as I wish I did or imagine myself doing.
I am disgusted with how I act with this black screen in public. And in private. I should respect myself the same way I respect my time with others. After some daily analysis, I decided to make an immediate change.
(Mainly, I am guilty of checking Instagram. Facebook has been annoying me, and I find it easy to ignore. I deleted it from my phone anyway.)
Typical day with my phone:
Wake up, pick up phone.
On toilet.
Looking at phone.
I wake up while looking at a digital scrapbook other people's interests and what they are allowing me to see and learn about them. Then, I get feedback on what I choose to show them.
I think about what I could show them next. Or if I even care about what they think about it in the brief time it takes to double tap a screen.
I wonder what I enjoy doing while I drive to work listening to a YouTube video on something factual.
Hoping that learning something concrete will help me figure it out.
At work, I check occasionally. Maybe I'll look up a recipe. I'll check Instagram to see if anyone liked my post from yesterday.
When I drive to the gym I listen to music or another YouTube video. Maybe its motivational, maybe it's factual, maybe it's advice.
At the gym, I listen to music. I scroll Instagram if I am on the stationary bike. I look at it again in between sets.
I realize I am vain for looking at myself in the mirror in between sets, in between looking at Instagram photos of people with more toned bodies than mine. I talk to myself about the process. Even though I already know it subconsciously, making comparisions makes me justify why my process is different. Even though I already know it's OKAY.
I go home and listen to music. Scroll Instagram again while at my desk. Making an excuse that I am looking for inspiration or learning something. I'll work on some art. When I find myself losing any bit of focus, I'll post or scroll.
I'll look up some real information about something I'm curious about.
I go to bed.
Scroll again.
Set an alarm.
Start the day over again tomorrow.
There are many issues here.
What worries me most of all, is that I am unsure of what I like or what I like doing.
That is terrifying.
Too many distractions and endless available content provides so many diversions that I find temporary and disturbing solace with having ZERO ideas about what I like. It hinders the human process of hands-on experimentation and natural mental process.
So, i decided to let it go for a while.
I started a few days ago.
The only things I use the internet for are:
-Email
-Maps
-Factual Searches
-Music
-Recipes/Work
So far it's going well. I took note of the moments where I felt "lost" and had the urge to scroll Instagram. I addressed why I was feeling that way and moved on.
Holy shit, I processed something!
The only negative thing I'm doing is intensive cat adoption searching. I miss my cat and I want a new furry one, so I am really binge-ing on cat profiles. Not exactly healthy, but I know what my reason is. I love cats and I want a pet.
I have felt more patient with regular things. Resorting to looking at my phone in moments of awkwardness or as a way to fill brief moments of time, has been less frequent. I have been practicing pointed pen calligraphy daily, and have used my time to make art and read books.
Some of my goals feel more attainable. Now that I am only fighting with my OWN inner critic and less with myself as a result of quick comparisons, it feels freeing to know I am the only real judge of what I do. Maybe that's the most terrifying thing--at least for me. When I am forced to look into the black mirror of my phone, I see who I truly am for a split second. It's unsatisfactory, so I switch on the light, and outshine myself with false representations of what others are projecting onto me, which results in me feeling simultaneously hopeful and inadequate.
It's all my own fault--this thought process. In no way am I blaming others for what they are posting. It's my fault for how I choose to see it and for allowing myself to feel that way.
All of this introspection is a result of being off Instagram for two whole days.
I can only imagine how I would be doing if I didn't use my phone or computer at all.
At this point, it isn't practical. I have a job that requires me to be available and I use my phone to get directions. For now I will stick to this experiment. I'll see what else I can accomplish when I, myself, am the only device to search.
(I watched their 30 day sugar cleanse, and enjoyed their contrasting commentaries, so I clicked on the next video. That my friends, is how the YOUTUBE BLACK HOLE begins.)
I really enjoyed their dynamic. They were honest and verbal about their expectations, nervousness with coping, and their critiques and impressions after their 30 days without social media.
It struck me. I have thought about abstaining from endless scrolling for a few years. I've deliberated the idea only because I thought my personal craft business might suffer. But honestly, I never post that stuff as often as I wish I did or imagine myself doing.
I am disgusted with how I act with this black screen in public. And in private. I should respect myself the same way I respect my time with others. After some daily analysis, I decided to make an immediate change.
(Mainly, I am guilty of checking Instagram. Facebook has been annoying me, and I find it easy to ignore. I deleted it from my phone anyway.)
Typical day with my phone:
Wake up, pick up phone.
On toilet.
Looking at phone.
I wake up while looking at a digital scrapbook other people's interests and what they are allowing me to see and learn about them. Then, I get feedback on what I choose to show them.
I think about what I could show them next. Or if I even care about what they think about it in the brief time it takes to double tap a screen.
I wonder what I enjoy doing while I drive to work listening to a YouTube video on something factual.
Hoping that learning something concrete will help me figure it out.
At work, I check occasionally. Maybe I'll look up a recipe. I'll check Instagram to see if anyone liked my post from yesterday.
When I drive to the gym I listen to music or another YouTube video. Maybe its motivational, maybe it's factual, maybe it's advice.
At the gym, I listen to music. I scroll Instagram if I am on the stationary bike. I look at it again in between sets.
I realize I am vain for looking at myself in the mirror in between sets, in between looking at Instagram photos of people with more toned bodies than mine. I talk to myself about the process. Even though I already know it subconsciously, making comparisions makes me justify why my process is different. Even though I already know it's OKAY.
I go home and listen to music. Scroll Instagram again while at my desk. Making an excuse that I am looking for inspiration or learning something. I'll work on some art. When I find myself losing any bit of focus, I'll post or scroll.
I'll look up some real information about something I'm curious about.
I go to bed.
Scroll again.
Set an alarm.
Start the day over again tomorrow.
There are many issues here.
What worries me most of all, is that I am unsure of what I like or what I like doing.
That is terrifying.
Too many distractions and endless available content provides so many diversions that I find temporary and disturbing solace with having ZERO ideas about what I like. It hinders the human process of hands-on experimentation and natural mental process.
So, i decided to let it go for a while.
I started a few days ago.
The only things I use the internet for are:
-Maps
-Factual Searches
-Music
-Recipes/Work
So far it's going well. I took note of the moments where I felt "lost" and had the urge to scroll Instagram. I addressed why I was feeling that way and moved on.
Holy shit, I processed something!
The only negative thing I'm doing is intensive cat adoption searching. I miss my cat and I want a new furry one, so I am really binge-ing on cat profiles. Not exactly healthy, but I know what my reason is. I love cats and I want a pet.
I have felt more patient with regular things. Resorting to looking at my phone in moments of awkwardness or as a way to fill brief moments of time, has been less frequent. I have been practicing pointed pen calligraphy daily, and have used my time to make art and read books.
Some of my goals feel more attainable. Now that I am only fighting with my OWN inner critic and less with myself as a result of quick comparisons, it feels freeing to know I am the only real judge of what I do. Maybe that's the most terrifying thing--at least for me. When I am forced to look into the black mirror of my phone, I see who I truly am for a split second. It's unsatisfactory, so I switch on the light, and outshine myself with false representations of what others are projecting onto me, which results in me feeling simultaneously hopeful and inadequate.
It's all my own fault--this thought process. In no way am I blaming others for what they are posting. It's my fault for how I choose to see it and for allowing myself to feel that way.
All of this introspection is a result of being off Instagram for two whole days.
I can only imagine how I would be doing if I didn't use my phone or computer at all.
At this point, it isn't practical. I have a job that requires me to be available and I use my phone to get directions. For now I will stick to this experiment. I'll see what else I can accomplish when I, myself, am the only device to search.
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