The Everyday Adventure: On Distractions.
It’s easier to look at the phone. It’s easier to distract myself.
Recently, when the fear and anxiety were strong, when they’d been bearing down on me for just a bit too long, I grabbed my phone and looked at instagram in hopes of getting my mind to a different place.
Numb. Catatonic. That’s where I wanted to be.
A new friend reminded me of how important it is to actually sit in your season and really feel everything it's supposed to make you feel. How there's strength in that, in owning it even though it's hard and even though it's not ideal and even though it wants to cover you in shame.
Some days, I hate that I feel so much. My emotions generally manifest in tears and that feels dramatic, hard to hide. There are days I want to hit pause. To hold back the waves.
So I picked up my phone because I didn’t want to feel anything. I wanted the pain to stop. I wanted peace, just for a moment.
And babe, I will tell you, that’s not the path to peace.
I think my friend was right, there are things we must feel in our season. And if we were to sit in it long enough, we might learn that our pain is trying to tell us something. We might understand that the fear is only a symptom for deeper beliefs we hold—beliefs that are only lies.
We might start to feel the cracked places where the lies get through.
But only if I don’t wash the moment away with the balm of other peoples’ lives and the messages bombarding our own lives and all the distractions.
I want to hear what my heart is telling me. I don’t want to tell it to sit down and shut up because I don’t like what it has to say.
And I think that starts with daring to get alone. To sit by ourselves. To not make ourselves feel more important by needing to go check this message or respond to that email. To not make ourselves feel better or feel worse by what we see online. To not scroll just to fill the time and the space.
I did this, the very next morning. I picked a sunny spot and sat down right in the middle of the driveway. Closed my eyes and listened.
And I heard everything. Loud and clear.
I dare you to do the same.