big dumb mind games

and all the other ways I tried not to meditate today

It’s been five days since I started my experiment of replacing a numbing behavior (for me that’s Instagram) with an emptiness meditation practice. Here’s a longer explanation of what I am up to. Feel free to join in and pass it along. The more the merrier. Or, emptier?

Here's how it's going.

I will purposefully not check Instagram in order to not meditate. As of today, my desire not to meditate is stronger than my desire to avoid numbing with my phone. Writing that feels simultaneously embarrassing and not at all surprising.

For the first day I diligently meditated right after I checked Instagram—it happened twice—but then I started to play a little game with myself. I either meditate immediately after I check the app or I kick the can down the road. That first night, before bed, I decided to post a story about this experiment on Instagram. (Yup.) Then I decided to go back and change the story, so I had(!) to meditate again. I was tired so I decided that I’d do both meditations the next morning.

But I didn’t meditate the next morning. For the next day and a half, I “owed” myself 10 minutes of meditation. It’s not lost on me that there’s a strange system of credits and debits in my head, rooted in a binary sense of morality. A debt to myself! Nevertheless, I eventually sat down and meditated for 10 minutes and felt amazing afterwards.

I currently owe myself 15 minutes of meditation, and that's a weird thing to think about. I could stop writing right now and simply meditate, but I won’t.

Anyway!

I’m also realizing that there is an uncanny valley between stopping doing something, and getting comfortable with residing in the space that was left there, without filling it.

For the first few days I fruitlessly searched my internet world for the cheap dopamine fix I usually get from IG. Nothing really did it for me. Even filling up a cart on the Real Real with zero intention of buying anything failed me. So I turned my attention to making myself feel good with other tried and true methods.

Here’s a small example: I ate so many Trader Joe’s dark chocolate peanut butter cups (lord almighty) in the last few days. I treated myself over and over again. And, though I was a little wide-eyed about what was happening, I resisted judging myself. I gave myself a lot of treats in exchange for not using my phone. Got it.

I also watched more tv than usual. In the mornings, when I usually reach for my phone to do the rounds—check IG, check the weather, check my email, check the news, check Cup of Jo, maybe read part of a New Yorker article—I opened my laptop and watched a show instead (right now it’s Slow Horses).

In the past I’ve created all kinds of rules and structures for myself when examining imbalance in my relationship with technology. Instagram is the only social media I use, but there are plenty of other ways that I sink my time into my phone. I’ve deleted the app multiple times and really enjoyed not having it. And yet, I rely on it to have one remaining connection to a space where I can promote the things I need to promote. I sell ceramics there, and I post about my writing. There’s a link to this Substack and my website on there. So, that’s not nothing. Plus, I maintain real relationships that I keep up in the DM’s.

This time I’m not deleting the app. I need to know if I can have it there and still choose not to engage with it. I haven’t quite parsed out why this is important. Am I trying to create balance, or have a break-up and stay friends, or simply shine a flashlight on the situation? Not sure at this point.

taking this screenshot “cost” me 5 minutes of meditation.

I’ve also been hyper-conscious of how I keep reaching for my phone in order to check it—but I don’t—and that feels like constant mental gymnastics. I spent a lot of time in the past five days thinking about how much I was thinking about my phone.

The phone has energetic tentacles. I can feel it off and away in the other room, invisible suckers wrapped around different parts of my body. I miss it. I feel entwined with it.

So, how do I disentangle?

Cleo and I just watched an episode of Grey’s Anatomy where Meredith prints a 3-D model of a tumor as a way to come up with a surgical game plan for cutting it free from all the different areas of the body it infiltrated. They name the tumor “Cyclops”—it looks like a ginormous banana slug made out of cinnamon bear gummy. Needless to say, they pull off the surgery, leaving the patient’s internal architecture completely intact. This is the energy of what I’m trying to do.

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And of course, this whole thing bumps up against so many other issues. On the surface, it’s about dopamine, self-soothing, and attention. Beneath all of that, it’s made out of all the biggies: fear, pain, existential despair and all the other juicy stuff that requires a lot of attention when you start digging.

If I start to examine my relationship to the app, then I also start to look more deeply at my relationship to the phone. And once I do that, I become increasingly aware of ALL the other ways that I attempt to make my time here on earth more comfortable—and there are many! I’ll dive into that territory in my next dispatch.

My friend Caroline and I were talking about this experiment the other day, and she pointed out that asking people to put down their phones is a bit like asking people to stop drinking before the holidays. I inadvertently made sober December instead of sober January. We laughed about why in hell anyone would want to give up something that makes them feel better right now. Good question! I guess my answer is that it was making me feel worse.

One of my friends quit smoking by gradually eliminating one cigarette a day and replacing it with drinking a bottle of water instead. Eventually, he’d quit smoking completely and become a habitual water drinker instead. He felt better on the other side.

I don’t know if I’m trying to habit swap to feel better or simply shift an imbalance in my life. If I leave morality out of the equation, the good and bad for me of it all, I guess I’m just curious about what happens when I actually regain that lost attention. Will I start wanting to meditate without strings attached, or will I add it to the pile of things I do because I know that I should? And what will my brain feel like?

How is it going for all of you? What’s coming up? Any surprises? I’m curious to hear about any and all of it.

xo,

Belle