I first made a Facebook profile when I was 14. The internet seemed so innocent then; no data-mining or invasive pop-up ads (how’d they know I’ve looking for a coffee table?). I announced my unfiltered pre-teen thoughts on my page everyday to the tune of twenty-seven likes on a good day, and posted heavily filtered pictures taken with the iMovie countdown feature. It was a simpler time.
Lately, scrolling on social media feels like navigating a minefield of clickbait, rage-bait and brain-rot (a gen-z term—I hope I’m using it in the right context, as a millennial). The desire to remain informed has become incompatible with my mental health, yet completely eliminating myself from the digital world doesn’t feel like a reasonable solution given that social media is a major component of my job. The temptation to doom-scroll has overtaken my mornings like never before.
I know I’m not alone in this feeling. Over the past five long, grueling years, our iPhones—or androids, if you’re contrarian— have become our fifth limb. Consuming news, memes, dance clips and influencer ads has dysregulated our nervous systems by tricking us into believing that dopamine is a suitable substitute for serotonin.
I am personally entering into a spiritual season where toxic habits and lethargy can’t come where I’m going. In the mornings, as my thumb hovers instinctively over Instagram for a hit of dopamine. I hesitate. I let the silence waft over me. It’s uncomfortable now. The natural sunlight is so frustratingly pleasant. The Holy Spirit beckons me…
I open my Bible app. Instantly, my panic subsides. I didn’t even know I was panicked until I consciously chose this peace. I didn't know I was holding my breath until I release it. I talk to God about my worries. “I am Jehovah Jireh”, he reminds me. I realize I was subconsciously self-soothing my deepest fears by entertaining myself on social media. I realize it doesn’t even entertain me anymore; it numbs me. Is that really living? I don’t feel as seen or understood even by my closest earthly friend as I do when I’m still with the Lord. I certainly don’t feel seen or understood by strangers picking political arguments online.
Suddenly, I’m doubled-over watching an emu chase a squirrel. How’d I get on TikTok? Old habits die hard.
We’re designed for connection. Go ahead and keep that Instagram profile so you can keep up with your high school acquaintance’s niece’s gymnastics career. It’s a blessing that we have such powerful tools to access information, and to engage in conversation, at the speed of light. The connection we truly crave, though, doesn’t require a device. He waits in the stillness for us, even as our busy brains attempt to escape the very intimacy we crave. Then, in the overflow of that divine connection, we are inspired to create…rather than consume.
-Christy Bradley
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