by Emily Ley
I fear that if we don’t create filters for the type of information we take in, if we don’t set up boundaries to protect our emotional and mental energy, we are changing neurologically and feeding the monster of worry and doubt. We’re adding gasoline to the fire of overwhelm and stress, and essentially feeding ourselves an unbalanced diet of “whatever the world throws at us.”
If the adage holds true that we pour out what we put in, what does this say about how our social media usage affects how we parent, serve, communicate, and love?
DING, BUZZ, CHIRP, PING
I started to take note of all the noises and “pops” of information that zigged my attention one way before zagging it back toward my actual area of focus. Many of these distractions were pretty obvious, but the big one that surprised me most was notifications on my phone. My phone would ding and buzz and chirp for every Facebook comment, Instagram like, email, text message, or app update. And because my phone was always with me, I always heard and noticed. These notifications seemed like a good idea . . . until they weren’t.
If the adage holds true that
we pour out what we put in,
what does this say about
how our social media usage
affects how we PARENT ,
serve, COMMUNICATE ,
and LOVE?
Instead of sorting through which notifications would best serve me, I turned ALL of them off. Every sound, every pop-up, every red dot. Then I went back and turned on what I knew I needed (text messages and phone calls only) and left the others off. I’d still check my email during work hours, but I didn’t get alerts every time one landed in my inbox. If something was urgent, I knew the person would call.
And it worked, as simple as that. I haven’t turned a single notification back on. In fact, I eventually turned off my text “red dot” and told my friends and family to call my cell if they need me. Now I get to text messages when I’m able.
I also decided to address clutter, both in my house (which we’ll cover in another chapter) and in my life. I began to say no to invitations I knew would stretch my schedule too much, commitments I knew would be a squeeze to fully dedicate myself to, and favors I just had no bandwidth for. I began to gratefully and unapologetically decline and to be proactive instead of reactive about what I allowed into my life—what I dedicated my time to. Little by little I carved out actual, true, better-than-gold margin in my days. “No” is a complete sentence. No apologies needed. As long as I was holding up my end of the core responsibilities, meeting the needs of my family, and fulfilling my duties as a boss and worker, everything else was actually optional.
“No” is a complete sentence. No apologies needed.
I think we’ve underestimated the power of margin in our lives—time between responsibilities and commitments for life to just happen fluidly. I would argue that life happens in the margin, maybe even more so than amid our most important commitments. The free afternoon, the hour between appointments, even the fully unplanned weekend are when we find long chats with friends, slow meals savored with loved ones, and Lego creations built with hours of focus.
REWIRING AND REWRITING
These tactical ways of simplifying had always been the backbone of my company, Simplified. They’re skills I’m innately good at and something I care for deeply. And I was a pro at putting them into place, but like any person, my life would get in the way and they’d unravel a bit (or a lot). It took constant dedication to keep life simplified and to keep my priorities in check. In late 2015, I’d created The Simplicity Challenge. It was thirty simple steps to simplifying your life (primarily by clearing clutter, planning in advance, and setting boundaries) that went viral over social media. It was meant to be a New Year’s challenge created to foster community among our followers and customers, but it became a sensation by which women around the world were changing their lives.
Now I see that although these tactical efforts are indeed valuable, they’re just the tip of the iceberg. Digging deeper into the complexities of modern life has unearthed an epidemic so entangled and mainstreamed—the normalizing of constant busyness and chronic stress—that it can be addressed only by dramatically and wholeheartedly viewing the entire picture. And what better way to heal a marathon runner who’s been sprinting at breakneck speed for years and years?
By allowing her to rest.
It’s beautiful what can happen in that quiet space where we allow the body to still . . . the mind to still . . . the heart to still. This is where God begins the wonderful work of rewiring our priorities and rewriting our lives.
QUIETING YOUR DIGITAL LIFE
Like it or not, our digital life is a reality that isn’t going anywhere. Because of that, I find it beneficial to make mindful choices about how I interact with my devices and the worlds that live inside them. No one size fits all. Intentional choices that benefit you and put you in the drivers’ seat are the goal.
• Turn off notifications on your phone and computer. I suggest starting by turning off all notifications and adding back only what is most necessary.
• Utilize the timer feature on various apps or your phone to limit your social media time. You may be surprised how quickly an hour on Instagram can slip through your fingers.
• Consider your goal for social media. Why are you using it? Create a personal philosophy of use so that social media serves your goals instead of you passively serving it.
• Streamline your inbox. Unsubscribe. Delete. Delegate.
• Activate your phone’s Do Not Disturb feature. You can set hours each day when alerts and calls won’t come through so you can focus on what matters: your family, work, personal goals, creativity, boredom, and more. Calls from your favorited phone numbers will always come through, but the rest will stay silent.
• Set aside screen-free time during the day—for you and for your family. Go outside. Take a walk. Read a book. Enjoy quiet time together.
• Let people know when and how you’re available—and why. People are unable to respect boundaries they aren’t aware of.
4
SOCIAL MEDIA
Less Distraction, More Connection
My realization about my connectedness and constantly unfocused attention led me to New Year’s Eve 2018. I was exploring my smartphone’s new Screen Time feature (a piece of software that measures individual phone usage) when I saw “5h 36m.”
Five hours and thirty-six minutes.
That’s how much time I’d spent on my phone the day before. Surely my phone had made an error. If I had been on my phone this long, surely it was due to December being the peak season for selling day planners. But as I scrolled back days and weeks and months, I saw that this was actually the average time I was on my phone every day. If I’m awake from 6:00 a.m. to 10:00 p.m., then this meant nearly a third of my waking hours were spent with this glowing handheld device in front of my face.
And I claimed I didn’t have time to go for a walk? For a coffee date? To close my eyes and rest for a few minutes?
Oh, but I’m on my phone for business most of the time, I initially told myself. But since I was in the mind-set of questioning everything, I stopped myself. I thought for a minute. Was I actually on my phone solely for business? Or was I getting lost mindlessly scrolling?
I decided to acknowledge that, regardless, I wasn’t happy with that 5h 36m and to dig in to the idea that perhaps, even if I use my phone primarily for business, this was too much—and that this connectedness (not the phone or the social media platforms or the internet in general) was contributing in some way, big or small, to my burnout.
I’d made some small but meaningful changes to my social media usage and to my phone, which is where I connected most of the time. But I had this glimmer of a feeling somewhere in the depths of my heart that this might go deeper. I’d squish it down, snuff it out. And like a tiny flame that wouldn’t allow itself to be blown out, it’d somehow reignite, only to grow stronger and bigger each time.
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The looming deadline for this book and a feeling of fed-up-ness pushed me over the edge. It was time to walk away. So for the first time in nearly eleven years (including during the births of my three children), I decided to fast from social media for one month.
The fast was simple to put into place. I posted that I would be taking some time away and explained that business posts (planned in advance) would continue to go up and that business-related questions would be answered by my team. If I only had personal accounts, I’m not sure I would have announced my departure. (I didn’t say anything on my personal Facebook account, for instance. I just slipped away.)
The response to that particular post, which received thousands of likes and hundreds of comments of support in just a few hours, made me both excited and disturbed (a) that I wasn’t alone in my feelings and (b) that the feelings of burnout and overconnectedness truly are more widespread than any of us realize. Tactically, here’s how I began my fast in early 2019:
I posted on my business social media accounts that I would be taking some time away.
I deleted all social media apps from my phone.
I also deleted any other apps that took my attention away from actual face time with people.
Lucky for me, my frustration was at an all-time high, so the process here was pretty easy. I didn’t make a big deal about it; I just walked away. I needed this break.
BENEFITS OF A SOCIAL MEDIA FAST
• Emotional bandwidth
• Fewer distractions and procrastinations
• Fewer privacy concerns
• Better sleep (if you check social media before bed or upon waking up in the morning)
• More time for family and friends
• [Your Response Here]
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DOPAMINE EPIDEMIC
I’d love to tell you that this time away changed my life and my relationship with social media forever. But it didn’t. In fact, although I thought this time of disconnecting would give me a reset and illuminate some of my bad habits, the time away actually revealed that I had pretty good habits with social media. I wasn’t connected to it all day while working. I wasn’t comparing myself to strangers on the internet in unhealthy ways. In fact, I missed some of my Instagram friends. I missed communicating with our customers. I missed the comradery we’d cultivated over the years with what we call our “Simplified sisterhood.” I missed seeing photos of my friends’ kids. I missed seeing updates from my kids’ school. Social media really is awesome in the positive ways it connects us.
Social media wasn’t the problem. My habits were.
But here’s the weird thing. As I continued tracking my daily phone usage through Screen Time, I found that my daily usage numbers weren’t really going down much. I’d expected those numbers to plummet. Social media is the problem, the thing that really logs the minutes that I’m glued to this phone, right? But no. I realized something even more concerning.
Social media wasn’t the problem. My habits were.
I was still reaching for this little device, both when I was bored and busy, during the day when I was chasing kids and at night when I had a few hours to myself. I was picking up my device, looking for something “live” or “continuously being updated,” and silently asking it to fill my head and heart with something. To pick my phone up, out of habit, during my social media fast and find nothing there to entertain me . . . well, it was jarring. What am I doing? I’d think to myself. Why am I reaching for this thing so often?
I’m uncomfortable being bored or still, my subconscious would say to my smartphone each time I picked it up. My mind has been trained to be constantly flitting from one thing to the next, and what’s happening in real life right in front of me is a little slower than that right now, so please entertain me. Take my mind on a ride that’s a little more interesting than Legos or work or paying bills. Pique my interest. Give me that shot of dopamine.
Dopamine.
I guess I’d heard the word somewhere or read of the concept during some late-night deep-dive scroll into a Scientific American article. But it wasn’t part of my daily vocabulary. Upon realizing that with each tap of my phone screen I was like a lab rat racing to sugar water over plain water, I became disturbed.
Dopamine is commonly called the “reward molecule.” It’s a neurological substance released by many parts of the brain that encourages us to seek, search, and even scroll, looking for some sort of reward or gratification. Social media feeds and smartphones in general are what researchers and marketers call “dopamine gold mines.” By simply scrolling or flicking your fingers a few centimeters, you receive instant gratification (and therefore small hits of pleasure or fulfillment caused by dopamine) over and over and over again.
YOU MIGHT BE DOPAMINE DEPENDENT IF . . .
You find yourself aimlessly scrolling and tapping and opening tabs, looking for something to grab your attention.
You are a frequent user of the swipe-down feature to refresh feeds on your phone.
You find yourself engaging with online conversations you’d never normally pursue.
You open a social media app before even getting out of bed (or before going to sleep).
During real-life conversations, you have to resist the urge to pick up your phone.
We experience the same spikes of dopamine every time we pick up our phones. Will there be a text message? Will we have a voicemail? A new notification? What will it be about? Maybe something exciting is in my inbox. Or some bit of news. That millisecond of “unknown” or “maybe” is fun for our brains whether we realize it or not. And we want more of it.
Dopamine.
Of course we keep coming back for more. In our fast-paced, too-full lives, when things slow down for even a few minutes, we reach for our phones. We even sometimes reach for our screens as a way to “rest” or to allow our bodies to do something “mindless.” But it’s actually the opposite! More dopamine, please.
I got kind of angry when I realized this. You don’t control my behaviors, strange neurological substance! I do!
It also occurred to me that this behavior, this phenomenon, is happening to our entire society—this overconnectedness, this departure from real face-to-face moments, this dopamine addiction. It’s real and it’s an epidemic. And many of us don’t even realize it happened. Some digital marketers and social media purveyors have begun to blend their business goals with some conscience, creating tools similar to the Screen Time software on our phones or the Instagram feature that alerts you when you’re “all caught up” with your feed. These tools are a start—but they’re only the beginning.
GUARDING YOUR HEART
As an entrepreneur, I think I am even more wired than most to seek out dopamine (and adrenaline, for that matter): the next exciting thing, the next interesting thing, the next new thing, the next thing in general.
Being content and slowing down is so unnatural for me. And this is what my month away from social media taught me: social media is not my problem. It’s not causing me to burn out. But over the years, I have unknowingly trained myself to constantly seek out new after new. Hit after hit. Information and connection overload over and over again.
I realized this about midway through my month away and vowed to spend the second half of the month fasting not just from social media but from this behavior: constantly picking up my phone or opening a web browser to distract myself from the stillness in my head.
If my brain had been rewired over the past few years to demand dopamine, I was going to have to rewire it now. Could I untangle the habits that kept me in overdrive and proactively train my brain with new habits (and boundaries) that would allow me to move at a slower, more focused pace? Could I learn to find contentment and stillness with less dopamine, with fewer hits of “new,” with less distraction? I knew these things weren’t helping me and that they certainly weren’t contributin
g to the life I wanted—one that could find peace in a quiet afternoon watching my children play or sipping coffee while leisurely catching up on the meaningful parts of the day with my husband or dreaming big about chasing after what my spirit longs for most.
Because my business is on the internet and because my entire team works remotely, email, text messaging, and social media are vital. I wasn’t planning to turn the clock back to the days of carrier pigeons, so I instituted some difficult-to-follow but eventually effortless tactics that I believed would bring me sanity and provide guardrails for those areas that I knew could be a source of struggle for me.
Instead of leaving my inbox open and allowing the “red dot” or some sort of pop-up to alert me when I had a message (what I call “working in real time”), I began to work with my inbox closed and kept all notifications turned off. (Again, if my children’s school or a family member needed me, or some work situation was urgent, someone would call.) I adopted a work style known as batch scheduling, working creatively during the morning and checking my email three times a day (morning, lunchtime, and in the afternoon before ending my workday). No longer am I slave to an inbox I’m watching fill up before my eyes, essentially a to-do list that others are creating for me (and that I’m passively allowing to dictate the details of my day). Now I set the schedule. I batch my email processing. I read and respond to emails at the time that works best for me.
