Recently, I talked about the prevalence—and damage—of internet addiction in our society. Over-stimulation of our minds on a daily, even hourly basis can act as a major handicap to our creativity and mental focus. If we want to make an impact with our art, it’s important that we address this problem.
Lately, my husband and I have been taking steps to fight our own social media addictions. It’s just so easy to click over to Facebook—or worse, leave the tab open while attempting to work on other things. It’s frustrating and depressing to reach the end of the day, only to look back and realize that you did nothing but waste time, so today I want to talk about five simple, everyday habits you can employ to help fight internet addiction in your own life.
This world is noisy. Everywhere, every second, something is happening—and people are talking about it. News channels, YouTube, blogs, and social media blare into our lives at a constant rate. It’s almost as if silence—real, true silence—no longer exists.
In the past, I’ve talked about the purpose of beauty: the intrinsic value of the useless pursuit of Wonder and how it fills our spirits. We hunger for it, just as we hunger for peace and quiet in this age of constant noise. But life moves too quickly, it seems, whisking away silence in its crazy storm.
We of the 21st century live incredibly cluttered lives. We’re busy, scattered, and often exhausted, trying to keep up with the commitments in our lives, whether it’s work, school, or social engagements. Even when we do have free time, it’s often spent distracted.
We’re conditioned to live at a fast pace; constantly hustling, impatient, and strained. Free time, while important, feels indulgent. With various things competing for our attention each day, it becomes difficult to focus—and sometimes focus is exactly what we need.
The word “simplicity” is a hot topic right now. It’s trendy. If you’re a minimalist, you’re part of the cool crowd, and you’re doing things right. And this is nothing against minimalists—I tend to be one myself, and I think it’s great—but if we define simplicity as synonymous with minimalistic, we’re missing the point.
Simplicity is not a “trend” to be attached to one specific “lifestyle”. It’s not about having less, or religiously shunning any type of privilege or convenience. It’s not a list of do’s and don’ts. It’s a lot simpler than that—really.
We of the millennial generation face more clutter and shiny distractions than any generation before us. We have things like television, radio, ads, email, social media, texting, and more—all at our fingertips, vying for our attention every single day. Things get complicated fast.
We’re in the habit of keeping up with everything—and not because we have to, but because we can. Entertainment and information are everywhere all the time, so why not? We’re used to living with so much mental clutter, we sometimes don’t even recognize how it’s causing us to suffer.
We live in a world that is constantly pushing for more—for us to do more, give more, or be more. As high achievers, this is a natural tendency, and a great trait. Aspiring to do and achieve your best is not something to be ashamed of, but today I want to talk about one little word that’s sometimes so hard for us to say: No.
In 2016, my focus was on generosity. I wanted to give more freely to more people. Now don’t get me wrong—generosity is a phenomenal trait with many benefits, and one I think we should all learn to cultivate. However, I made one mistake: I never said no.
Creative people are sometimes accused of living in a fantasy world, far out of reach of reality. Perhaps you’re one of them. Maybe you’ve been told your imagination is too big for your own good, and you should stop dreaming before you fall too far down the rabbit hole.
As an entrepreneur, blogger, and author, I’ve often been chastised for not choosing a “real career”; for thinking outside the box and making the decision to enter the Perilous Realm. I’ve been looked down on for pouring myself into writing instead of “doing life”. But what if these things—the fanciful and the practical don’t have to be at war with each other?