Take it Back

I've been realizing some scary things.

I've realized that my heart is being exposed. My mind is being invaded. My inspiration is being starved. My sense of adventure is being smothered. My awareness of life and beauty and the world outside is being stolen. Let me rephrase that: given away. 

I've realized that in the world of complete access to anything and anyone anywhere, I am losing my sense of wonder. I've realized that unearned access into people's lives is costing me relationships I could have built. 

I've realized that I've been giving hardly-aquantences unbridaled access into my memories. People I don't know can recite details of my wedding day. Complete strangers can discover that I ate a delicious chicken and potato entree at a seaside restaurant in Jamaica on the 3rd night of my honeymoon. Or that I biked beside the ocean at Battery Park during my one year anniversary. Or that Biltmore is pretty much my favorite place in the world.

I've realized that there are some memories I'd like to keep for myself. Some memories that I'm ok sharing only with my husband. Some sunsets that people just need to go outside and experience for themselves. Some restaurants that people just need to discover and love on their own. Some sights that are made beautiful by the exclusivity of the discovery.

I've realized that noise isn't the problem. I've heard from youth pastors and camp directors and good Christian girls and boys all my life that "God has a still small voice. If we fill our heads with too much noise we won't be able to hear him." While I understand what they're trying to say, I disagree with the way they are saying it. We live in a loud world. Sounds and sights and smells and cultures and love and politics and agendas are loud. It shouldn't have surprised me to realize that God's voice is loud. It roars like thunder after a burst of lightning. It's deafening like thousands of delirious fans uniting in song for their team. It's peaceful like salty waves gently caressing the sandy beaches. It's sweet like the tears we cry over returned loved ones. His voice is everywhere. But because of my self-imposed distraction, I don't hear it. Instead of sitting on my porch and soaking up the awesomeness of a lightning storm, I'm distracted by trying to capture the perfect picture for Instagram or video for Vine. Instead of smelling the sweetgrass by breathing in deeply as I drive through the mountains with my windows down, I'm worried about trying to take a picture that perfectly describes how wonderful my life is at that moment. The irony of all of this is that I can't even enjoy my life because i'm trying to make it look enjoyable to other people.

I've realized that while noise isn't a problem, distraction is. I've allowed myself to use social media as a means of distraction. In my desire to be 'inspired' or to 'decompress' (two excuses I use daily), I've actually created an IV bag of mindless clamor. I've realized that episodes of boredom become increasingly frequent and my attention span is dramatically decreasing. I've begun to find myself tuning out during conversations with my husband or while listening to friends describe moments of their lives. During these tune-out moments I find myself grabbing my phone- sticking the needle into my arm and allowing the inundation of outside-world to numb my mind. 

I've realized that i've becoming increasingly discontent in my life and incredibly more prone to cynicism. My whole life has subtly shifted to pleasing other people.  My relationships with God and people are being dictated by how I want to be perceived on social media. 

Coming to this realization has been slow. It's taken years in fact. Very gradually my case against my own distraction has been building. I've started to ask questions like 'Why do I need to share this picture?' 'Why is it so important that people see what I'm seeing?' 'Why do people need to laugh with me about this incident?' 'Why do people need to know what I'm experiencing and how it's affecting me?' Court came to order last week, and after a quick and dirty deposition, I've ruled in my favor- I'm reclaiming my own life. 

Social media has torn me down. It's both stripped and increased my sense of self-importance. I have realized my propensity to turn this tool into a means to become a local celebrity. In a culture where celebrity status is fought for, I've decided to bow out of the fight. I'm done with checking my notifications mindlessly. I'm done with waiting for comments on my pictures. I'm done with being proud of the amount of 'likes' I get on a status. The stupidity overwhelms me. I'm saddened by how far I've fallen. Correction: I'm saddened by the realization of how far gone I've always been. 

I'm ready to hear God's voice again. Ready to sit in silence with a steaming mug of tea and wait for him to speak. Ready to laugh with my friends and hear his laughter with ours. Ready to scream for my favorite band at a concert and know's he's with me, enjoying what his creation has created. 

So until I learn to actually enjoy my life as my own, I'm leaving the social media scene. This is a very hard step for me. As an artist, I appreciate the ability to be able to share experiences. I love being able to inspire people to a better, happier, fuller, more colorful, vibrantly beautiful life. For a long time I've allowed this reason to be my excuse for remaining involved in social media. 

There is so much more I could say on this subject. In fact I spent a long time talking this through with my best friend/husband yesterday. If you want to hear the whole story of how I came to this decision, let me know! We'll drink tea and eat scones (unless you like coffee, in which case you can have coffee and I'll have tea) and talk about life in a real conversation.

From now on, if you'd like updates on our life and business please visit my website. You can find current events and sneak peaks of projects I'm working on under the New Happenings tab. That tab also happens to be where I am posting a link to this novel-of-a-note. Thanks for reading my hour-on-a-soapbox. I'm going to go live my life now. 

Feel free to join me.