Embracing Digital Minimalism

 

I only bought Cal Newport’s book, Digital Minimalism, on a whim, because it was on offer as a Kindle daily deal for 99p. But I have found it to be a fascinating and challenging read, which has caused me to reflect seriously about how much time I spend mindlessly browsing on my smartphone – usually either on Facebook or Pinterest – or playing time-consuming games like Match 3D. In fact, I would guess that the total time I spend on social media or playing games is not far short of the ten hours a week Newport mentioned as a typical time spent feeding a Twitter habit. Which has shocked me. I agree with him that “this cost is almost certainly way too high for the limited benefit it returns.”

Although I am not of the generation which grew up with smartphones (those born in the nineties and later) I, like many people of my age, have embraced the possibilities that a smartphone offers – the ability to stay in contact with Unitarians all over the country on Facebook, for example, or to discover wonderful new crochet patterns on Pinterest. And the ability to text my family and close friends to stay in touch when I am out and about is very useful (it would have been marvellous in the days when my husband was delayed on his evening commute from London and I was at home, wondering when he would get back). And I find the alarm and timer and weather forecast functions very useful. And have three prayer or meditation apps, which I use during my morning sit (not all three!)

 My phone and I are not inseparable… when I am out walking, I only pull it out of my pocket to take a photo of something beautiful, that fills me with wonder. And it spends quite a bit of time sitting silently in my handbag. Unlike some people, who seem to have their phones in their hands all the time and seem to prioritise connecting with the digital world almost more than connecting with the people they are with. It always makes me sad when I see people allegedly out for a meal together, who spend more time texting absent friends or scrolling through news feeds than in talking with their dinner partner. Or someone walking with a child, who is trying to engage their attention, but they are too busy looking at their phone to notice. Yet who am I to judge? If I had grown up with a smartphone, as the younger generation has, I would quite possibly have done the same.

Newport’s book has made me uneasily conscious that my relationship with my smartphone is not an entirely healthy one. It is not simply my servant, enabling me to do things I could not otherwise have done, like letting my husband know I’ve arrived somewhere, or staying in touch with my adult children. Slowly, insidiously, my phone has become my go-to method of filling odd moments of time. I find myself checking Facebook or scrolling through Pinterest in the evenings, when Maz and I are watching something together on TV. Digital Minimalism has made me conscious of this, has made me ask why I’m doing it.

Reading the book has made me understand that I am not living in consonance with my values. I have allowed the ever-present “convenience” of my smartphone to distract me from being fully present to those I am in the same room with. It has made me appreciate that I have been allowing it to invade my life and to hijack time when I should enjoy space and silence and being in community with my loved ones.

So it is time for me to do a re-set. I have deleted some apps from my phone and silenced all notifications except phone calls and texts. I have announced on Facebook that I will only be checking it once a day, for ten minutes, and have asked that anyone who needs to get in touch more urgently to ring me, e-mail me or text me. Because I want to live my life well, to be completely present to my family, my friends and what I am experiencing in the present moment, to make sure that each of my todays is “well lived”. I have decided to relegate my phone to a back seat, and only bring it out when using it adds some real value to my life.

 What might “living today well” look like for you?

Not Naivete but Clarity

The American textile artist, Anni Albers, is "credited with blurring the lines between traditional craft and art." (Wikipedia). She was born in Berlin in 1899 and started to study at the Bauhaus in 1922. Many of the disciplines were forbidden to women (much to her disgust) so she enrolled in the weaving class. However, she took to "the challenges of tactile construction" (Wikipedia) like a duck to water. In her writing, she says, "In my case it was threads that caught me, really against my will. To work with threads seemed sissy to me. I wanted something to be conquered. But circumstances held me to threads and they won me over." Her designs were bold and geometric and her work has been exhibited all over the world.

Tapestry, 1948 by Anni Albers (Wikimedia commons)

This week's quotation is by her: "Lack of complication is not naivete, but clarity." The German phrase provided by the Harenberg Kalender, from which I get my quotes for this blog, was difficult to translate. It could read "Uncomplication / lack of complexity is not simplicity, but clarity." But I think I understand what she is getting at.

Human beings are geniuses at making their lives both complicated and complex. A simple life of clarity can seem to be a distant, unrealisable dream. I believe that Albers is reassuring us that if we are able to remove some of the webs of complexity from our lives, try to live more simply, clarity will be our reward.

Last November, I wrote a post about meditation and clarity here. I said then and still believe now, "We live in a complex world, with many demands on our bodies, minds and spirits. The clarity which can come from a regular meditation practice is an essential counterpoint to this. If we can find a place of clarity in our meditation practice, through using gentle curiosity, it may help us to lead more mindful, calm lives."

Mindfulness. Calm. Simplicity. Peace. May we all find a way to access these much-needed qualities.

Just Do It

The slogan of a certain sportswear company is "Just Do It". Simple and brilliant. I have always understood it in the context of pushing through physical pain to achieve a certain sporting goal.

This morning, I came across a rather different take on the "Just Do It" message, by none other than Mother Teresa:

"People are often unreasonable and self-centred. Forgive them anyway.

If you are kind, people may accuse you of ulterior motives. Be kind anyway.

If you are honest, people may cheat you. Be honest anyway.

If you find happiness, people may be jealous. Be happy anyway.

The good you do today may be forgotten tomorrow. Do good anyway.

Give the world the best you have and it may never be enough. Give your best anyway.

For you see, in the end, it is between you and God. 

It was never between you and them anyway."

This is another kind of challenge altogether. It is a challenge to have integrity; to live our lives with authenticity. Because this is the only way we're going to grow, in any way that matters, in the long run. What a wonderful set of commandments: Forgive, Be Kind, Be Honest, Be Happy, Do Good, Give Your Best.

Nothing in there about Get On, Get Ahead, Look After Number One. These are the commandments of our society. I think I'd rather give Mother Teresa's a try, and Just Do It.

"I know what love is"

Yesterday, I watched Forrest Gump for the very first time with my kids, and was blown away by it. I was utterly captivated from first to last. Tom Hanks is superb, and never steps out of character for an instant. The reviewer in The Radio Times calls him "the semi-literate Everyman who drifts through recent American history", which sort of describes him, but it misses his beautiful simplicity.

What sticks with me is his oft-quoted: "Mamma said: 'Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you're gonna get.'"

And he never does know. He is the ultimate example of somebody who goes with the flow, so long as it doesn't interfere with his loyalties and principles, which are fierce and fundamental. He never quite realises the incidental impact his actions have on others.

Among other things, and purely by accident, he teaches the young Elvis Presley to dance, participates in civil rights history at the University of Alabama, gives John Lennon the lyrics to Imagine, and helps to trigger the scandal that was Watergate.

His impact on those he loves is much greater, but again, how much of it is deliberate, and how much is just a by-product of his character, is open to question. He only ever wants to be happy with the people he loves and respects, and who have been kind to him. And the results are extraordinary.

In a way, I quite envy him. As he says, "I'm not a smart man - but I know what love is." There are worse ways of going through life.

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Appreciating What We Have

I like Facebook. I know it can be a terrible time-waster, but I log on every day to keep up with all my Unitarian friends round the country, and with my children-no-longer-children, now both away at University. And I 'like', to use the Facebook jargon, a lot of pages, which include many pithy quotes which make me reflect on how I am spending my time and living my life. They can often provide me with a starting point for a blogpost, like this one.

One of my favourite pages on Facebook is called 'becoming minimalist' and the page owner, Joshua Becker, posts a lot of inspirational tips on how to simplify your life, and on how to appreciate what you have, rather than forever going after the next thing. One post last week read: "Treasure your relationships, not your possessions." Which reminded me again of the importance of appreciating what you have, and of living in the present.

Simplicity is also one of the five Quaker testimonies. In their Advices and Queries, they say: "Try to live simply. A simple lifestyle, freely chosen, is a source of strength. Do not be persuaded into buying what you do not need or cannot afford. Do you keep yourself informed about the effects your style of living is having on the global economy and environment?"

And I am finding that these beliefs, these ideas, matter increasingly to me. I know that my lifestyle is currently very far from simple, and that the way I live has more of an impact on the environment than it should. But I am working on it. For example, in the last twelve months, I have given up cigarettes and alcohol, and am trying to eat more healthily too. I am still very bad at buying new books whenever I see them, but try to really consider whether I need other consumer items, such as clothes or jewellery, or gadgets. Because I do believe that "a simple lifestyle, freely chosen, is a source of strength."

It is also about being aware of the sacred in the world. Sacred living is about weaving moments of attention into our everyday lives, and recognising the sacred there. It is about living with a new level of awareness. It is about going through our day paying attention to what is happening in each passing moment. It is about noticing the presence of the divine, the numinous, everywhere, in the natural world, in other people, in ourselves, and in things that happen to us. Sacred living is about rediscovering our sense of wonder, and living our lives in response to that. Sacred living is about truly appreciating what we have.

And giving thanks.