I have written a lot over the years about eliminating distractions and focusing on the task at hand.
Apparently, I need to keep writing about it because I am still not very good at it.
Maybe these occasional written affirmations about focus and productivity are really just subconscious reminders to myself.
Maybe putting the words on paper is my way of saying, “Pay attention, you know better.”
Either way, I recently decided to take some of my own advice.
Those of you who have been friends with me on Facebook may have noticed that I have disappeared from the platform.
About a month ago, I deactivated my personal Facebook account.
I didn’t delete it altogether. Somewhere out there in the digital ether, it still exists, waiting for me to change my mind, enter a password and return to the endless scroll.
But, quite frankly, I don’t think I want to.
There wasn’t any dramatic incident that drove me away. No great Facebook feud. No political argument that pushed me over the edge. No single post that finally made me throw up my hands.
I was just tired of the noise. Tired of the negativity. Tired of the distractions. And maybe most of all, tired of realizing how much time I was spending consuming things that added very little to my life.
Henry David Thoreau wrote, “Our life is frittered away by detail.” He wrote that in 1854. Imagine what the poor man would think about Facebook.
Thoreau went to the woods because he wanted to “live deliberately.” I didn’t go quite that far. I just pushed the deactivate button.
But I understand the impulse a little better now.
Because the strangest thing happened after I left Facebook.
Nothing happened.
The world kept turning. My friends remained my friends. The newspaper still went to press. Classes still had to be taught. Bills still had to be paid. Football games still kicked off on Friday nights.
And I didn’t really miss it.
What I did notice was that I started doing other things.
It is difficult to quantify, but I genuinely believe my productivity has increased during the last month.
I’ve had more bylines in this newspaper. And those stories have had cleaner copy requiring fewer edits.
I’ve initiated more creative projects at the university. I’ve read more books. I’ve spent more time actually creating things instead of watching other people tell me about the things they created.
That distinction matters.
We live in an age obsessed with platforms. Writers need platforms. Businesses need platforms. Professors need platforms. Newspapers need platforms.
Apparently, everybody needs to constantly broadcast themselves to the world.
Maybe.
But I’ve realized I already have a platform. You’re holding it. This newspaper has been around for nearly 150 years, and today I own it free and clear, with no debt owed to anybody.
That’s a pretty good platform.
So, if you want to know what I’m thinking, you’ll probably find it here.
Sometimes in print. Sometimes online.
Usually somewhere between a city council story, a football score and an advertisement for somebody’s garage sale.
I like that.
The irony, of course, is that newspapers have spent the past two decades being told they must become more like social media to survive.
Maybe there is something to be said for going the other direction.
Slow down.
Think.
Edit.
Read something longer than three sentences.
Put the phone down.
Do one thing at a time.
The poet Mary Oliver once asked, “Tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?”
That’s a big question.
But maybe the answer begins with a much smaller one:
What are you going to do with the next 10 minutes?
Because our lives are ultimately made of those minutes.
Ten minutes scrolling becomes 30. Thirty becomes an hour. An hour a day becomes 365 hours a year.
That’s more than nine 40-hour workweeks.
I’m not suggesting everybody abandon social media. It has its uses.
We still maintain Facebook pages for the newspaper, and I maintain one connected to my work at the university.
Social media can inform people, connect communities and put our work in front of audiences we might never otherwise reach.
But there is a difference between using a tool and allowing a tool to use you.
For me, the balance had gotten out of whack.
So, I turned down the noise.
And in the quiet that followed, I discovered something that shouldn’t have surprised me.
There were books waiting to be read. Stories waiting to be written.
Ideas waiting to be pursued. People waiting to be talked to.
Work waiting to be done. Revenue waiting to be generated.
And a life waiting to be lived.
None of that requires a like button.
I know some of my Facebook friends probably miss the food pictures.
For that, I apologize.
Rest assured, I am still eating entirely too well.
I’m just not photographing all of it anymore.
And somehow, the food tastes just as good.
There is much more to life than the ceaseless rambling of social media. I’m enjoying rediscovering some of it.
So far, I haven’t missed the noise.
And I’m beginning to think the quiet might be the whole point.
Source: Freepik.com