Before we left to go to Italy, we had a space problem- as in, there was not enough space on my phone for pictures. And if you’re hopping across the pond?
That’s a problem.
My phone storage always hovers dangerously close to the ‘that’s too much’ limit. What can I say? I take a lot of pictures.
I have a cute dog, married a cute man, and ended up with a ton of cute nieces and nephews. Sacrificing my storage to record all of that? Well worth it.
To figure out how to clear up some space, I had to enlist the help of the aforementioned cute husband: he had to work within the ‘pictures are nonnegotiable’ boundaries.
What we discovered was that my next-to-largest-storage-taker was the News app, which made sense. I’m a paid subscriber.
After much deliberation, I did cut this app.
I also cut the subscriber payment, but I think I did mysteriously get charged the other day for it. *Sigh.*
Needless to say, I had filled up all of that space with Italy pictures, and now can confirm: there is no room at the inn for a News app return.
How much have I missed it? Honestly, not a ton.
There was a time when I would have said the worst thing to be is ignorant. And while I won’t say it’s always the most ideal state, there is something to be said for blissful naivete.
Dumb though it may sound, when I’m in the know on what’s going on globally or nationally, I get a little prideful. (How stupid is that??)
What can I say? I’m a conversationalist above all else. And there are few things I love as much as the ability to have an opinion.
So I deleted the News App, and as a result, I’m not nearly as well-informed.
And I hate to say it, but I’m better off for it.
Right now, I’m writing under the broad topic of small rebellions.
Basically, how to be uncommon in a world that COMMONLY seems like it’s on fire.
The first post was all about the practice of listing things you love and how that can build empathy. You can find it here.
The simple practice of deleting my news app taught me Small Rebellion #2: Be okay with not knowing.
When has knowledge ever been so costly?
Was it that time in the garden? With Adam and Eve and that tree? When they ate of the knowledge of good and evil?
Did they bite into a smartphone?
Just one of my questions I’d like to ask in glory (along with, what was really at the bottom of the ocean, God?).
Way back then, knowledge came with quite a price. Newsflash: it still does.
We have become addicted to knowing everything. Or at least as much as we can. If we didn’t have the addiction to nosiness and doomscrolling, chances are Facebook wouldn’t be worth a trillion dollars.
See, when I first got social media, I got it with the familiar-to-all-of-us purpose of seeing what my friends and family were up to.
That version of Facebook lacked the political ads and hot takes- both of which I could do without seeing.
We know what everyone thinks and hates: we know our neighbors’ annoyances and personal affronts.
That’s just on a small scale: we also get incessant news updates, giving us access to scandals, polls, and terrifying current events.
And then, even better: we now have access to myriad takes on the news: everyone has an opinion, then everyone has an opinion on others’ opinions.
If that sounded like a word salad, it should: succinctly, our being plugged in at all times is one word: chaos.
The chaos is turned up to twelve on a ten scale machine, making our brains and, in turn, our lives, entirely too noisy.
We were not built to know so much.
Our minds can’t handle this.
As a result of all the knowledge we have, I think we’re walking around with shorter fuses, stronger opinions, and bigger chips on our shoulders.
On a broad scale, we know too much about situations we can’t affect.
We know in our hearts there’s evil in the world: there always has been. The constant loop of information stresses our harddrive, leaving us exhausted and scared.
On a smaller scale, we find ourselves outdone with people in our community who, otherwise, we might find we wouldn’t know or, more shockingly, might even like.
I think it was a whole lot easier to love your neighbor before you knew exactly what they thought about every candidate in the midterm election or just how angry Taco Bell made them.
Because screens are the norm, we have an opinion overload and a conversation deficit.
I find it exhausting.
What we don’t know (most likely) won’t kill us.
Dare I suggest we might even be happier in our cluelessness?
If someone talks about you behind your back and you don’t know it? Good: there’s less to be mad about.
If you don’t know about five of the ten worst things happening in the world right now? So be it: there is probably little you could do about those things anyway.
If you don’t know why your leadership made a decision? Be thankful: you don’t bear the burden of the information or the decision-making.
A good general rule for all of us, despite what Facebook suggests: not everything is my business, and at times (and often) unawareness is a blessing.
I was made to be preoccupied with my own backyard, first and foremost.
If I handled that first, I’d probably be in a better spot to make a difference everywhere else. Instead, it’s easy to do the reverse: expend all energy on worrying about the world’s issues and run out of patience for my own backyard.
I will relentlessly question anything that pulls my focus from my circle of influence.
At the end of the day?
I want to have the bandwidth to fully enjoy sitting in the backyard, playing golf with Trey, snuggling with Boone, throwing the football with Zayden, and eating Sunday lunch with my parents, and watching the Dawgs play on Saturday.
I want the tenderness to love and hurt for people who’re hurting around me.
I want sensitivity to the people around me- the ones I actually have influence over.
Overinvolvement in the news and social media blunts that.
I refuse to trade my peace for the problems this world declares are bigger, more serious, and more imminent than ever.
In a world that says know everything, be connected to everything, make every issue a hill to die on? Personally, I’m saying no, thanks.
That’s my small rebellion this week.
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