For the past few weeks, I’ve been going to the Alsos almost every day, rotating the bodyweight fitness (push-ups, pull-ups, handstands, L-sits etc) with the running. And it feels grrreat! Daphne has been helping a lot with cooking healthy and nutritious vegetarian meals with lots of protein, not that I’m shy of the stoves, but I tend to cook the same three or four things, not experimenting unless in the mood, and with her in control we’ve been eating like vegetarian kings. It activates me and it’s bringing in some good skills to have. I don’t know if I would be doing it if I didn’t have all the free time I have now, but that’s beyond the point. Having a workout and exercise routine helps me bring some (illusion of) order to my disorganised life, and with some much appreciated visible results.
Nevertheless, what I haven’t been able to organise, discipline and harness at all– seriously, AT ALL — is my mind.
In June last year, apart from running 10k, I posted this little write-up I’m still proud of:
Trouble is, I didn’t go through with what I pledged I would do. As far as I can remember (which isn’t a lot, because, as typically happens when you regress to addictive behaviour, your memory-forming functions give way to the reptilian dopamine-releasing pleasure centres, quite conveniently, too, because you don’t really want to remember in shame the ego-shattering moments when you and your actions fail to hold up to your initial intention), ten days later I was again browsing the web, free as a bird — or, to be more precise, free as a bird enclosed in a cage made of invisible walls.
A few days ago, while I was running no less, the thought came to me: why don’t I try again with this whole less internet, less media thing? I could use the extra time to think and create. I seriously miss creating…
The next 4 days I’m going to be in Loutra doing a media fast with Daphne: each day, we will be allowed to use the internet for just 30 minutes, and that’s just for e-mail, practicalities and Rights4Water. The rest of the time, anything with a screen will be off-limits. No movies, no games, no TV, no smartphones — I will switch mine to battery-saving “dumbphone mode”– no distractions from the interestnet. The only exception will be my Sansa Clip Zip I will be using for audiobooks, podcasts and music for when I’m doing exercise. The idea is to limit options, minimise distractions and allow for deeper thought and even boredom, which will force us to be creative instead of us automatically turning to the mind-numbing net for excitement and stimulation.
The simple fact of the matter is that I’m sick of the internet.
Got your attention?
I’ve been wanting to write this post for the past several days. It came to me when my laptop stopped working for a day, and I was somehow relieved that I had an excuse not to check my e-mail, my facebook, follow through with my obligations. In truth, I think I’ve wanted to write this for the past several years, but the time was never just right – or I was not ready to take things seriously.
Now the time is right. I know because I’ve had this heavy feeling in the greater area of my heart and stomach all day, the same bodily sensation I get every time I get the urgency to publish something important for me. In fact, it’s the exact same feeling I get before I ask a girl I like out, have an exam coming, or need to make a phone call to somebody I’ve never met before. It’s the flinch, but it’s funny how a simple sudden need to write something makes me experience the same physical reactions to insecurity, the knowledge of what’s to come, the question of whether it will be accepted or rejected (tell me again, which one’s worse?)
Before you say anything, I know. I know all that. All of it. I’ve had my life shaped by being online, guided by it. If there was a poster child for this brand new technology 30 years ago, I could have been it. I even studied the thing in university, both from a more theoretical, humanistic perspective and a drier, technical approach. The only reason I believe I might not be the most suitable person to talk about it today is that every day, to I’ put it politely, I’m becoming less of a fan.
To give you a rough idea of how long I’ve been a user, I have had access to the internet generally available to me since I was 8 years old – my father’s 28.8kbps with GroovyNet. That meant web surfing about twice a month on the weekends I used to spend with that side of my family. All I would search for on AltaVista or Yahoo would be related to Nintendo, Mario or Donkey Kong. I’m talking about 1997 here.
I’m not going to say more about my own personal history and milestones of net use (i.e. when I made my first e-mail address, when I first had a net connection of my very own, my first online game, my first download from P2P networks or my first social network account, even the first post on this very website), for the very simple reason that, for the majority of my life, these internet-related milestones had been so closely connected (heh) to my real-life history, that any attempt of recording or writing about them would be like trying to write something about my life the past 15 or so years in general. The boundaries between online and offline life would be arbitrary. It would be like a book no-one wants to read, because they have their own sitting right next to them.
I won’t go into details about how the internet is important today, either, but I will do a rough run down. We all know about it more or less: it’s the fastest growing (tele)communications technology in the history of our species, at least as far as we know; it has created new dynamics in virtually every field, accelerating change in unprecedented rates and paving the way for greater shifts yet; it has proven a disruption in the status quo, an experiment gone wild, an almost unharnessable beast with inner workings that global capitalist, democratic, free market societies weren’t prepared for and still don’t know how to manage.
For human communities and communication, it’s been the culmination of all human inventions to this point, the convergence of all human endeavours to create this network of everything, everywhere, a single entity that contains the entirety of our heritage and makes it available to all. It’s the connection of anybody with anybody else. In 20 years – less! – we’ve created this thing, this pulsing, vibrating cybernetic superconstruction that would make science fiction writers of just 30 years ago pee themselves with excitement and anticipation. We live in the future!
How do you, personally, feel about that? Do you realise what important times we live in? Speaking for myself, writing the above gave me a rushing sensation, just for a second there. It was surprising, to tell you the truth: the net nowadays has been making me little more than numb.
Which brings me to my initial point. I’m sick of it.
Rant incoming.
I’m sick of Facebook. Sick of everybody obsessing over themselves so much. Sick of selfies, sick of cries of attention which are answered by other, louder cries for attention. Sick of how our stupidity, our short-sightedness hasn’t been cured or at least lessened by our newfound ability to communicate more efficiently than ever, but instead we’ve inadvertently used these tools to make stupidity travel harder, better, faster, stronger.
I’m sick of having to think about checking my multiple e-mail accounts, their unusually high number explainable by my taste for playing around with nicknames and forever tranforming identities, and my peculiar distaste for comfortably centralising my communications. Call me also slightly paranoid – I’m sick of that too. I’m sick of having to worry about not replying as soon as possible, sick of “not having checked my e-mail” not counting as an excuse anymore. Who cares if I really don’t have a smartphone – for how much longer still unknown?
I’m sick of the routine of it. Checking the same site again and again, the pointless refresh. If I’m going to do something in the morning, why does it have to be checking the false news of a false world on a website full of shills paid to swerve public opinion this way and that? Do I really need to know what’s happening, all the time, if I can only ever remember so little of it, talk about less of it and act on almost nothing of it? If the net is the most democratic medium we have, what happens when, after everyone and their grandmother has facebook and can make their comment and opinion public for all to see and be somehow influenced by, the same shit we experience in everyday life is copied to the web?
I’m sick of a web, a “democracy”, where trolls set the scene and have the upper hand, sick of pitiful little men that externalise their social anxieties and complexes in a space that can’t really harm them, being the driving force in some of the worst cybercultural phenomena we get to see online. But I wish it was just trolls: I’m sick of everybody’s self-centered non-trolling opinions, too. If we give everyone a voice online, we should be able to call the bullshit. But why do our bullshit detectors work so much less effectively online than in real life? Isn’t it a little bit like the mere fact that somebody’s doing something online, it’s given more validity than if it were done offline? Is that just the novelty of the medium that will soon pass? It’s no wonder @AvoidComments exists and that some sites have disabled their comments features altogether…
I’m sick of people smugly declaring they don’t have a television when asked if they’ve heard of the news on this or that celebrity, but they spend more time watching Youtube videos or TV series than they ever spent on watching classic old WeTube in the past.
I’m sick of writing “I’m sick of”, so I’m going to externalise and project a little bit here.
How do you feel about having to stack up against the whole world with your creativity? How many times have you had a great idea but did nothing to make it happen, because the thought that “somebody else must have done it already” killed it on the spot, and to make matters worse, you googled it just to be sure and somebody else had already executed it 5 times better than what you had even conceived of, sending you even farther down that internal pit? How does that make you feel? Why?
When was the last time you talked to each of those tens of Skype/MSN/whatever friends? Are you still interested in what they’re doing? Would you consider that the internet is bringing you closer to them?
How about reading? What was the best article you read the past week? The past month? No, you’re not allowed to look up your browser history. Go on, tell me what it said. What’s that? You can’t?
The pictures you have online, things you wrote a while ago, all that… Do you ever consider that people looking up your name have access to that and can paint a mental picture of who you are now based on who you were 5 years ago? In another 5 years or 10 years from now, these numbers will have skyrocketed. Do you want that? How does it make you feel? For me it used to be really stressful that somebody might have the wrong idea of who I am (I have some form of social anxiety IRL about being misunderstood and rejected, which translates in interesting ways in the webosphere) but there’s increasingly nothing I can do and I’ve just sort of embraced the fluidity. You can’t win them all anyway. I suppose you just have to live with your everything being public and always be appropriately mindful of your actions online.
All this makes it very hard to disown things you did and said in the past, however. We’re not allowed to purge, which is I think very normal behaviour we should be encouraging more, and neither are we allowed to change as people; if we change we instantly create inconsistencies across the various existing representations of us online. If I wish to stop using the name cubilone, for example, because I no longer identify with what the name carries with it, who will be the tens of cubilones you can find on the web?
Talking about public, have you been finding it more stressful to decide what you should be sharing and what not? I have been very bad with sharing lately, and don’t consider most details about my current life as worth sharing with others, including things I would definitely post here in the past. Remember, though: I’ve had the ‘mension for almost 7 years. Who’s not to change his or her habits in that time?
But no, I’m talking also about sites like Tumblr, Pinterest etc. Sites that force the whole damn interestnet (read that again carefully) down your virtual gullet before you’ve even had the chance to blink/chew. Tumblr especially is excellent at making you insensitive to beauty. Time and time again I’ve caught myself and others scrolling down the feed, giving a split second of attention to pictures that under different conditions would have made it to our desktop background. What happened? Have we forgotten to stop and appreciate? If we haven’t yet, I reckon we’re well on our way down that path.
I’ve talked and written about the web and infinite novelty before but, as you can see if you click on that link, I wasn’t able to limit my susceptibility to it in the 7 months that have passed since the post above. It’s a dangerous thing that can silently devastate a mind such as mine that feeds on new ideas and connections and is always on the lookout for the novel and the untried. Indulging myself in infinite novelty feels right, more or less because surrendering myself to it is one of my strongest habits, but at this point I think it’s time I admitted that it’s poisonous for my creativity and my ability to concentrate; it’s detrimental for my already distracted personality constantly spread thin, and it’s bad for my mental health, my relationships and happiness in general.
Does any of this resonate with you at all?
Good. It’s time we did something about it, don’t you agree?
I’ve decided to do it the hard way, since everything else I’ve tried to this day has more or less failed. I will use the internet less – I will force myself to use it less. Everything: skyping, downloading, facebooking, e-mails, checking up on that book I learned about earlier in the day, writing on the blog, working on my sites… Everything.
At this point, I want to make it clear that I don’t think the internet is all bad. It’s an extremely powerful tool that can be used to do incredible things, spread world-changing ideas or just help people keep in touch, and it’s very practical, too. I’m not saying we should forfeit all the great things the internet has brought in our lives – at this point we can hardly turn back, anyway. What I’m trying to say with this post is that the power of the internet has to be harnessed. One has to be smart about using it and not surrender oneself to its siren song. I believe that by dramatically limiting my access to it I will be in the position to use it more purposefully, and I believe so would you.
My internet access days will be Wednesdays and Saturdays. I might add another day or two for emergency Skype calls that can’t be avoided, but generally, this will be it. I will keep it up for at least the next 24 days, the duration of the rest of my 7×7 challenge, but I aim to keep it up past that point.
This is a personal experiment, but I wish to find other people to join me in this quixotic quest. Will you take a stand with me, friends?
The Artist’s Way is one of those books that change you – one of those that are made to change you, and you buy them because you yourself want to change. It’s a course in self-discovery, acceptance and creative birth.
These are the basics: for every morning of every week for the 12-week duration of the course -one chapter for each week-, the blocked artists choosing to follow the Way have to:
1)Do three pages of free writing every morning, a daily ceremony known as the Morning Pages. This acts as a mind-clearing meditation routine, a brainstorming machine and a way of spotting trends: weeks after writing the pages the artist on the Way may analyse his or her morning pages and notice trends in his or her daily writings: unfulfilled artistic urges, changes that need to be made for the person to reach harmony and happiness, sudden ideas and other great things.
2) Take themselves out to at least one Artist’s date per week, in which they have to indulge in whatever it is they love doing but would not normally allow themselves to be lost in (remember, this book is meant for blocked artists -read: most of us-).
3) Complete tasks in personal archaeology and self-discovery, wherein they have to dig up favourite creative childhood pass-times they gave up because of humiliation, “growing up” or other creativity-killing reasons.
I completed my 12(+1 lazy one) weeks a few days ago. I can safely say that it had great effects on me. Doing morning pages has now become more of a good habit of mine, and even if I didn’t do all of the tasks, it’s one of the books you have to go through at some point again for inspiration. It says so in the end, too.
If you’re a blocked artist, believe you can’t do art because you think you’re too old to start or “can’t draw” (or are “tonedeaf” or “terrible at writing” or “have no ideas” ad nauseam), think whatever you do needs to be perfect from the beginning or don’t bother because what you would create wouldn’t appeal to the masses, you should really try following The Artist’s Way.
The only thing I would add to the course itself would be a special NoSurf task or, even better, a complete revisit to the book that takes what the world looks like in 2013 into account; I strongly feel the internet is becoming, at the same time, the most important invention and the single strongest creativity and motivation killer mankind has ever known. I mean, in the 1993 edition that I have, there’s already a no-reading week included in the course for eliminating distractions and for focusing time and energy on the creative juices within, but the internet is proving to be a distraction magnitudes greater than reading the paper or a book could ever be. We come in contact with the works of the world’s most talented and creative on a basis of addiction, almost.
What I really mean is that I’ve grown tired of and alarmed at the great artists I personally know who keep getting demotivated by seeing someone else’s graphic, photo or drawing on Tumblr or listening to that fantastic song or watching that clever video on Youtube, instead of getting inspired, as they claim they should be. It’s more “look how much others have progressed instead of me” and much less “this is possible and I could do it too.”
