Stop Gamifying Your Life
Your life is not a game. There are very real and sometimes lasting consequences to the choices you make. Gamifying certain aspects isn't a bad thing, but when you look at your life as a game, you're cheapening it.
Games are designed. They are clear containers.
Life unfolds as it does in unpredictable ways.
34 Little Music Lessons
On my birthday, I rounded up 34 lessons I learned (or relearned) over the course of the year. Given that I view myself as a musician first, I thought, “Can I think of 34 music-specific lessons? I don’t think I can.”
*15 minutes later*
“…Oh. I can.”
Second to breathing and existing (both very important things), I’ve probably spent more time thinking about or playing or listening to or writing music more than anything else. When I spend too much time away from my guitar, I become unpleasant to be around. Which is part of why I practice: to keep the people around me from going mad.
Anyway. Here are 34 lessons for the musicians out there:
Listen to more music. I know it’s obvious, but it needs to be stated. Especially because we can be consuming just about anything we want at anytime. Don’t let music slide away.
Listen to the music you love even more. Again, obvious. But important.
Learn songs. We have a habit of learning half of a song or part of a song. but you should learn the whole song.
Review the songs you know regularly. Otherwise, you will forget them.
Keep a practice journal. It helps improve your playing.
Set goals. It almost doesn’t matter if you reach your goals, but you need to focus on something.
Find a teacher. Nothing will accelerate your playing like a good teacher.
Play with other people - ideally better than you are. The best way to get better is to challenge yourself.
Learn songs by ear. If you can transcribe (play by ear), the world opens itself up to you. Plus tabs, though helpful, are often wrong.
Learn to read music. Guitarists don’t really need to read, but it’s a fun skill. And in some cases, you really do need to be able to read.
If you want to know something, teach it. Even if it’s just to yourself, try to explain or show what you’ve learned.
Don’t ignore the classics. They’re classics for a reason.
Learn multiple styles. Chances are, you like more than one style of music so go learn how to play it.
But you don’t have to learn every style. If you don’t like it, don’t play it.
Learn to sing. It helps with so many things: ear training, getting gigs, keeping a band together, personal enjoyment - the list goes on.
Learn to read music even if you don’t really think you need to. This is on here twice for a reason.
Learn the melodies of songs on guitar. If you’re just starting out, single notes are easier than chords, and it will help you to learn the song better,
Record your practice sessions. And listen back. You’ll improve.
Don’t spend all your time on technical exercises. They are important, but it’s like productivity: you don’t be productive for the sake of being productive. You want to learn how to be productive so you can spend more time doing what matters to you.
Music theory is worth knowing. It will not hurt your creativity. It will only increase your understanding of music.
When improvising, leave more space than you think you need. Trust me. Just do this. You and your bandmates will be happier for it.
Cliches are cliches for a reason. Use them.
To test how well you know a song, change the key. And if you’re a guitarist, don’t use the capo. See if you really know the chords beyond their shapes and positions.
It’s never too late to learn an instrument. I promise.
Sing in a community chorus for a bit. You’ll get better at harmonizing and meet some lovely people.
Learn basic maintenance for your instrument. And perform it - change your strings!
Always tune! Always! Did I say always? I mean always!
There’s a reason piano is used to teach and talk about theory. It’s very visual and simple to approach. String instruments and horns and woodwinds don’t have that luxury.
Think about how other instruments approach how they play and incorporate that into your own playing. It will make you sound better.
Remind yourself regularly why you want to play an instrument. This isn’t a slog. This is enrichment.
Spend time in silence. You need silence. Just like your solos need space, your ears and brain need space and silence to process all the stuff you’ve learned.
Learn the notes on the fretboard for better playing in general. Guitarists are one of the few that can “get away” without knowing the notes. But only for so long.
You will not always see or hear progress but if you’re practicing the right stuff it will happen. Music takes time. Remember that.
Have fun! We call it playing music for a reason. It’s not “toiling away at music.”
That’s all I’ve got for now. I hope you found these helpful!
Yours in music,
Amy
Who Needs A Master's Degree in Jazz in 2024?
Turns out I do.
My native language isn't jazz. My native language is rock and roll. So why am I pursuing an advanced degree in a difficult genre whilst struggling to communicate?
Because it scares the sh*t out of me. And I don't swear.
Some (most) people would see this and think, "Why on earth is Amy, Little Miss Rocker, going back to music school?"
Again, because it scares me.
Jazz is one of the most challenging and demanding styles of music. It requires a strong theoretical and technical background. You have to know the history. You have to know your instrument forwards, backwards and inside out. You have to be able to read music (which, as a guitarist, isn't easy). You have to be able to improvise. You have to be able to really hear what's going on and respond to it in real time.
You have to keep up.
If you can play jazz well, then you can play just about anything. And everything about your playing will improve if you can get a grip on this intimidating genre.
"Alright," I thought, "I surrender."
I always want to get better.
I have never hit a point with my musicianship where I've thought, "I can stay here."
Something always needs attention.
I decided to go back to school to get my master's for many reasons, but above all, I want to get better. I want to get better at a genre that I was so turned off by due to a bad teacher in my youth because I know there's something there for me.
We've all had someone ruin something for us. My high school band teacher ruined jazz for me. I know it's a huge claim as jazz is a vast ocean of music. But it's like he peed in the part that I was swimming in.
I've spent more time playing and listening to jazz in the last 12 months than I did in the last 12 years. I feel like I'm flailing all over the place with it, and I am. But I know I've gotten better. Am I where I want to be? Hell no. Will I be after two years of intensive training? No. But I'll be closer.
I was hesitant to pursue a master's in music. I had every variation of the following thoughts:
Is it worth the money?
What am I going to do with this?
Why do I want to spend my time this way?
No musician NEEDS an advanced degree to pursue music.
So-and-so doesn't have a master's and look at how awesome their life is. Why can't I do this without a master's if they are?
And so many other thoughts like this.
But the thing is, I'm not so-and-so.
Is it worth the money? Yeah. I think it is. There are skills I want to acquire that I could, in theory, learn on my own. But I know myself well enough to recognize that I learn faster when I have a teacher.
This isn't about turning my back on previous ambitions. (Though as I audit my life, some of those ambitions aren't useful or true - shouts to Derek Sivers yet again.) It's about improving at my craft, deepening my knowledge and breadth and love of music, meeting new people, learning new stuff, and having a great time along the way.
Art Is Not Selfish
"Making art is not selfish; it's for the rest of us. If you don't do your thing, you're cheating us." - Kevin Kelly
One of the best books you'll ever read isn't a book as much as it is a list in book form. Kevin Kelly's Excellent Advice For Living is just that. It's excellent. And it's excellent advice for living.
Something I struggle with is justifying my work. Some days, I feel like it's critical. Other days, I don't know why I should bother. I know the professional shows up for work every time and doesn't wait for inspiration. I know that music and writing change lives because they changed mine. I know that teaching someone something you know is invaluable because teachers have changed my life.
I'm a musician, an educator, and a writer, and sometimes I feel like I'm doing exactly what I've been put here to do.
And other times I feel like I'm shouting into the void that is modernity. Not that I would have been in a better position at any point in the past. It just feels uniquely overwhelming to be alive right now.
And it feels like nothing matters. Nothing any of us does matters.
But that can't be true. We may all be forgotten at some point but we're all here now, and that's important to recognize.
No single person changes the world. But we can all use our talents and gifts to help others.
And that has an impact.
I know my blog is not supposed to be my personal journal, but I've been thinking about this for a while and needed to let it out somewhere. Thank you for reading.
I'm going to get back to work now. Well, other work. Because this is part of my work too.
Bad Advice From Good Musicians
Even the most gifted people have terrible ideas
I've had the fortune to spend a lot of time with some really good musicians. From my earliest days of playing guitar through college and beyond, there have always been better musicians than me in my circle of friends.
I've learned a lot about the vast ocean that is music from every single one of them. Some advice has been invaluable. Other bits have been downright puzzling.
Let's dive into some of those puzzling bits:
Don't Transcribe Solos
You don't need to transcribe EVERY solo you've ever heard. But there are tremendous benefits to learning someone else's solo from top to bottom.
- Your ear gets better
- Your timing gets better
- You learn new phrasing
- You add their stuff to your creativity
- You get to feel what it's like to play like them
When I was 16, a friend of mine said that he never transcribed solos because knowing how Stevie Ray Vaughan played note-for-note would somehow hurt his own creativity.
(This kid was in AP Calculus.)
Where does creativity come from? Steve Jobs famously said, “Creativity is just connecting things.” And where do you find things to connect? Your influences! They are your inspiration! Every musician with any sort of distinction can tell you exactly who and what influenced them.
Influences aren't bad. Knowing your influences’ approach to music - or whatever your chosen field is - isn't going to hurt you. It's going to help you!
Sleep Less, Practice More
Fortunately, there's a lot more data and research on the value of sleep. But in 2008, the word on the street was that sleep was still for chumps. If you're sleeping, you're not practicing. And when you're not practicing, someone else is. And when you meet that person, they will be better than you.
Not if they haven't slept!
You need to sleep. You will not function well if you don't sleep enough. The proverbial wisdom is 7.5 to 8 hours. I did one all-nighter when I was at Berklee. It was the worst. I'm sure I missed out on some late-night jam sessions, but I've never had the stamina or desire to be at the rave or a gig or even the studio at 3AM. Some people like it, some people love it! But I don't. And you don't have to either.
Don't let the people with bags under their eyes who can barely keep their heads up tell you that you're missing out. You're not.
Your health is more important.
Go to sleep.
Don't Learn Music Theory
For reasons unknown (fear), people often think that knowing music theory will hinder their creativity. No, it won't. I promise you it won't.
Music theory is not an esoteric subject. It's a fancy way of saying, "This is how music works, and we figured it out AFTER we played/wrote it." It's a language of explanation. Nothing more. Nothing less. You don't write songs from theory. But you can use theory to help you if you're stuck - even in a counterintuitive way. If you know what's in a major scale, then by definition, you also know what ISN'T In a major scale. Use that inversion (pun intended) to your advantage in your own work.
There are no true rules in art. There are many, many, many useful guidelines but no actual rules. (Well, with music I would argue that playing in time is a rule, but time is very malleable so it's hard to argue it out of context.)
Don't Wear Earplugs
This one isn't just for musicians. This one is for every single one of you.
Listen to me: WEAR EARPLUGS.
If you love going to concerts and want to continue to love going to concerts, wear earplugs. Once you lose your hearing, you don't get it back. And hearing loss is one of the worst things that can happen to you. It makes you irritable and takes away a lot of the joy of living. Also, a lot of your favorite musicians suffer from tinnitus from noise exposure. They would be the first to tell you how much it sucks and that they don't want you, their loyal fan, to experience that pain.
You're still going to fully experience the music with your earplugs. Our sensitive little ear drums need protection. Treat them with the respect they deserve.
If I could have a billboard it would say "WEAR EARPLUGS." It's a hill I will die on with a full-range of hearing because I wore my earplugs.
Never Take A Break
Sometimes you need a break. People at competitive music schools will tell you otherwise, but sometimes, you just do.
I used to think my playing would go to pot if I missed a day of practice. A week was anathema. Two weeks!? There were times when I would have rather died than not play guitar for two weeks.
But there is value in giving yourself a breather. You give yourself time and space to process what you've learned on a deeper level. You give your mind and body a break from their usual routine - and that disruption is beneficial.
One of my mentors told me he took six weeks off from playing piano. When he resumed, he said he never sounded better.
I've never taken six weeks off, but I do know that when I let things settle a bit in my psyche, it all comes out of my hands better.
Taking a break is similar to going to sleep, and we know how important it is to sleep.
How Your Past Self Can Help You Right Now
When I find myself in a funk, I revisit my writing. I write a ton and know that at some point, my past self was feeling better than my present self.
I logged into the Google Drive associated with my amy@amymantis.com email. It used to be my band’s hub, but since I no longer have a band, I repurposed it. But the stuff in the Drive remained.
In 2021, I decided to reboot my blog. Only this time, it was on my band’s website. So it wasn’t going to be strictly a personal blog by definition.
I thought about why I wanted to blog again, and I'm impressed with what my 30-year-old self came up with:
Why do I want to blog in the first place?
I want to blog because writing is a way of processing for me and also a way of connecting with my own thoughts and feelings and ideas as well as with others and their thoughts and feelings and ideas. Writing helps me clarify my ideas and what’s going on in my world, both the interior and exterior aspects of it.
As a songwriter, as an artist, I spend a lot of time in my own world, and as an extrovert I spend a lot of time in the world we live in which I think is an important balance. I would go mad if I lived only in my internal landscape despite drawing on so much of it for my songs. I need to be out in the streets as Bruce Springsteen so eloquently sang. It’s that back and forth that has sculpted how I approach my own musings.
I see blogging as an extension of my songwriting. I see it as a way to express and elaborate on more than what I contain in the songs we pen. Plus I like doing it. I also fantasize about what if my favorite artists and songwriters blogged. I would eat it up. But since they don’t, I can’t.
But I can blog, and maybe someday someone will be glad that one of their favorite artists chose to maintain a blog.
—
All of that still holds true now.
I really do like writing like this. It’s very fun and refreshing for me.
I’m still working on what I want this particular blog to be, but for now, it’s going to be consistent, though maybe disjointed.
Record What You Learn
If there’s one thing I regret from all the time I’ve spent taking music lessons, it’s not recording my lessons sooner.
The first time I started recording my lessons was when I started taking voice lessons in 2013. That undoubtedly sped up my progress as a singer. I still go back and listen to those lessons for reference or when I feel like I’m in a rut. It’s also cool to have an archive to revisit.
But it’s not enough to record your lessons. You need to listen to them and take notes. Or, as we say in music, transcribe.
Why do I listen back and transcribe my lessons? I could have an AI scribe listen in and write it out for me, but as a musician, listening is, well, important. Sure, the AI choice might be faster, but it’s not going to be as helpful.
Listening back to my lessons:
Shows me my mistakes
Reinforces what I learned
Reminds me what I need to practice
Allows me to hear what my teacher did
Allows me to hear what I need to work on
Shows me all the helpful stuff that went in one ear and out the other
We can only take in so much information at once. This is why we’re encouraged to take notes in school.
While you may not be in school, when you’re taking lessons of any kind, you’re in a learning environment. And instead of wondering, “What did my teacher tell me again?” If you record your lesson, the nuggets of information won’t be lost forever.
Why Disney’s ‘Tangled’ Isn’t Just For Kids
If you scoff at kids’ movies, you’re missing out on essential life lessons.
Kids’ movies are not just for kids.
They’re Trojan Horses for adults who have forgotten the foundational truths of life. They’re stories of friendship, love, empathy, persistence, courage, doing the right thing, finding ourselves and finding joy along the way.
The best example of this is Disney’s Tangled, their 2010 movie with a twist on the classic Grimm Brothers story Rapunzel.
Tangled captures all of the positive storylines of a great children’s movie, but what makes it pop is how real the villain is.
Like many fairy tales, the villain in Rapunzel and Tangled is a witch named Gothel. Gothel is an ancient witch who covets something we can relate to: youth and beauty. And her tactics for maintaining her youth are insidious and very, very real.
The Story of Rapunzel
In the classic tale, Rapunzel is the daughter of a normal couple who is forced to give up their daughter to Gothel, their literal witch of a neighbor, after she caught the husband stealing flowers from her garden. He was stealing to save his wife who had become obsessed with rampion, a wildflower (also known as rapunzel) that the witch had in abundance. Gothel and Rapunzel live in a tower in the woods with no door and only the only way in or out is Rapunzel’s legendary lengthy hair.
In Tangled, Rapunzel is still locked in a tower with Gothel and still has to let down her hair, but there’s a whole other story going on.
Rapunzel is a princess kidnapped by — not given to — Gothel when she was a baby. Rapunzel’s mother was dying, and so the king sent his men off to find a cure. They found a lone magic flower that Gothel hid and had been using to stay young for centuries. Gothel watches in horror as the men bring the flower back to the queen. The queen is then served a soup made with the flower that saves her and her baby’s life. Not only does it save Rapunzel’s life, but her hair is imbued with the healing power of the magic flower.
One night, a cloaked and ancient-looking Gothel breaks into the castle. She cuts off a lock of Rapunzel’s hair, thinking that’s all she needs to stay young. Plot twist: once Rapunzel’s hair is cut, its power is lost. Gothel, desperate, kidnaps Rapunzel, devastating the king and queen who search endlessly for their young daughter to no avail.
Growing Up Under Her Thumb
Despite everything that Gothel is, Rapunzel grows into a warm-hearted and curious girl with one desire: to see the world beyond her tower. After a desperate plea on the eve of her 18th birthday to go outside — a very reasonable plea, Gothel claims the outside world is selfish, dark, and cruel and warns Rapunzel to never speak of leaving the tower again.
However, Rapunzel’s wish is stronger than she realizes. When a handsome thief named Flynn Rider stumbles upon her tower in his attempt to flee the authorities, Rapunzel, in a daring move, strikes a deal with him: If he takes her to the kingdom where she’s been seeing the lanterns fly every year on her birthday, she will return his stolen satchel to him. Flynn agrees.
And this, my dear readers, is where our charming Rapunzel’s growth begins.
She lies to her mother about her deepest desire and asks for forgiveness for being foolish. Instead of wanting to go outside, she tells her mother she wants a certain type of paint that will require a three-day journey for Gothel. Unsuspecting, Gothel sets off to get Rapunzel her paint.
Free from Gothel, Rapunzel and Flynn (whom Rapunzel hid in her closet) leave the tower. Only, Rapunzel is so frightened that when she descends (via her hair, of course), she dangles above the ground for a moment. And then, when she touches the ground, she is so elated with what the grass feels like that she breaks into song.
The scenes that follow show a conflicted girl: She’s doing what she wants! But she’s going to hurt her mother. She doesn’t care! But her mother will be heartbroken. It’s the best ever! But she’s a horrible daughter. She’s never going back! But she’s a despicable human being.
Pain, agony, elation, and delight are all on display.
Who of us hasn’t been there? Who among us hasn’t had a rebellion streak in them that we waffle on because our actions aren’t what our parents or caregivers want for us?
Sure, we don’t have magic hair or a pet chameleon or befriend a wanted criminal (at least I hope you don’t). But we all have had adventures, grand or small. We all have dreams, realized and unrealized.
We can all relate to Rapunzel.
Growing Up Rapunzel
Rapunzel grows up as soon as she stands up for herself. She experiences elation and despair. She uses her gifts not only to save herself and Flynn, but she also inspires others to follow their dreams. She finds out what the world is like on her terms, not under the influence of her abusive mother. She’s out in the world and loving it.
Like us, Rapunzel goes on her own journey of self-discovery. And also, like us, it’s not a straight line.
Because we don’t solely identify with this character like a child would, we can see the outcome here, which makes it so much more compelling as an adult! We know Gothel is going to come after Rapunzel. We just don’t know when or how.
The most realistic villain yet
Disney’s villains have evolved over time. Think about Snow White. The evil queen isn’t that compelling of a villain. She’s scary, but she doesn’t like Snow White because she’s pretty. That’s not a reason to kill someone.
Or how about Jafar from Aladdin? Most of us aren’t sultans who have a grand vizier who is a power-hungry sorcerer. Nor do we have a daughter with a pet tiger who falls in love with a street urchin.
But many of us have experienced a manipulative and influential adult. We’ve witnessed people who are incapable of love and compassion. We’ve been guilt-tripped. We’ve experienced emotional whiplash and unpredictable people. We’ve been told not to want something that we deeply, deeply yearn for.
Like Rapunzel, we’ve been a victim at one point or another.
Gothel is one of the most realistic villains in cinema because of how human and inhumane she is. She’s cunning and conniving. She will stop at nothing to get what she wants. And she knows what she wants — and it’s something we can relate to!
Gothel’s afraid of getting older. More specifically, she’s afraid of showing her age.
How many people do you know who have that fear?
We take it as a huge compliment when people think we’re younger than we are. And Gothel had a simple way to appear young. But it was taken from her. So what does she do? She takes it back. The magic flower that saved the queen’s life was the same flower that Gothel kept hidden for herself all those years. And she doesn’t seek revenge. She’s after what she wants, and if she has to kidnap the child, so be it.
And the way Gothel raises Rapunzel — she trains her to be obedient and subservient. She brings her up in fear — though, despite that, Rapunzel is innately sunny and curious.
She almost successfully convinces Rapunzel that the rest of the world is selfish, scary, and mean.
The irony is the projection. If anything, Rapunzel’s world — her rightful kingdom — is positive, sunny, and loving. All the things Gothel is not, and all the things Rapunzel is.
What have we learned?
Tangled reminds us of how much power one person has over us when we’re young. The impact of our caregivers cannot be overstated. This doesn’t mean we can’t break free from those early patterns, but it is much harder than simply saying, “I’m done with what I never chose for myself now.” It takes a lot of time and conscious effort on our part to overcome.
These adult themes pop up in every kids’ movie.
Toy Story isn’t just a movie about toys who talk. It’s a movie about friendship, change and belonging.
My favorite Pixar movie, The Incredibles, isn’t just about a family of superheroes. It’s about family dynamics, the detrimental nature of ego, and moral dilemmas.
Or take everyone’s favorite, Pixar’s Up. Of all the movies, this one might be the most overtly adult-movie-disguised-in-animation. But from a kid’s point of view, Up is about a boy seeking a merit badge for Scouts and accidentally going on an adventure with an old man and a funny dog. As an adult, it’s about living with loss, welcoming change, and being openhearted.
All of this sounds pretty grown-up to me.
How to Accept Changes and Choices
We spend a lot of our lives defending past decisions instead of considering new paths forward. - Seth Godin
I was living this way for a long time. It wasn't hurting me - or at least it didn't seem like it was. In some ways though I was stuck. I didn't want to look for a new path. And it took several years before I felt like I was even ready to change course, let alone actually change course.
Lately I've been thinking about what my younger self would think of me.
I'm not in a famous band nor am I a rockstar. I didn't drop out of college and move to New York City to pursue a career in music. I don't have a signature Stratocaster. I've never been interviewed by a major publication or been on TV. No song of mine has made it past local radio let alone had millions of streams. I've never had a manager or anyone with any industry leverage go gaga over any of my bands. I have signed zero contracts. I never opened up for any of my musical heroes or done any non-self-funded tour. I've never had a roadie or been able to make a living from my original music.
I spend my working hours (mostly) teaching kids and teens how to play guitar.
And I would be lying if I said, "I don't like this. I'm not okay with this. I should have reached certain milestones by now and I may as well wallow for the rest of my life because I'm not there and I never will be."
The point here isn't a pity party. No, this is about choice and change.
There was a time when I desperately wanted all of the above to happen, and if I strike a nerve at some point, who knows. I don't believe that window has closed, but it's no longer going to kill me if it does.
And that's a relief.
As for my career, I didn't some of the necessary things.
I didn't move to Los Angeles or New York or Nashville. Why? Simple: I didn't want to. There were moments where, had my bandmates all wanted to move, I would have. But it would have been for a very specific reason and as soon as I was able to, I would have got my butt back to Boston.
No one would say I didn't put the effort in or had any lack of energy, determination, or focus. I was obsessed with my bands and trying to crack the code. I wrote (and still write) thousands of songs, spent more time with my guitar in my lap than just about anything, and would have bent over backwards for a chance to prove my mettle.
But at a certain point, those qualities - that focus and determination and energy - can be used differently and, hopefully, yield a positive, productive, and beneficial outcome.
These days I've found a new path forward. It's a bit scary because it's unfamiliar. But that's also what makes it exciting.
“He didn’t know what he was going to — but it had to be better than what he was leaving behind.” - Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone
I don't know exactly where my new musical direction will take me. I have an idea of where I want it to go, but I can't predict what will happen along the way. And that's part of the fun! For the first time in a long time (maybe ever) it feels like there's a real sense of mystery and excitement.
I could keep trying what I was doing, but I realized I hated so much of the non-musical work it entailed. I loved the music I was writing and how tight my band was playing but I struggled with just about everything else.
The game changed, and I realized I no longer wanted to play the new game. I tried to play it. But I never felt like I was good at it or had a cool enough personality for it. To quote one of my favorite bands, Nothing But Thieves, I couldn't be anything that I didn't want to be. No matter what systems or methods I tried, I couldn't make it work for me. I couldn't adapt to that game. And that lack of adaptation didn't make itself evident to me until much later.
I wish I could say I realized everything sooner and that it was easy. But this change took root four years ago - four! - and only now am I seeing the seedling pop its little head through the soil.
What happened during that time for me? There was an existential crisis in 2020, followed by a pandemic, during which Eric and I wrote and recorded the best songs I've/we've released. There were new bandmates and lifestyle changes and venues closing and all the while, there was a small, patient, and persistent voice that I finally had the guts to listen to.
And she had a lot to say. I'm following her wisdom and trusting what she has to offer and while it's scary, it's exciting. It's difficult yet liberating.
Life isn't supposed to be frictionless, and right now there is a whole lot of friction. I'm coming up against old narratives and ways of existing that are no longer serving me. I'm immersing myself in music in a way that I, astonishingly, feel like I never have before. I always had an eye on what was next, and for the first time, my eyes are focused on what's in front of me, not what's on the horizon. I've been more in the moment in the past 12 months than I have since I was in fifth grade.
We all have that quiet voice, the one that probably knows more than we do about what matters and what we truly want. We've all been treading a path that might not be for us but it's all we know so we're afraid of what happens when we step off into the woods. I'm using a lot of metaphors here, but you get the point.
Consider change. Consider other possibilites.
You might surprise yourself.
Observations of Four Weeks Off Facebook
I haven’t kicked the habit yet, but I will.
Almost a month ago, I signed a contract with myself to spend the next year away from social media. Mostly Facebook and Instagram. I haven’t been a big Twitter user in over a decade, and with the exception of Molang’s account, I’ve never been one for TikTok. YouTube is fine. I use it as part of my outlets. Long-form content is a strength of mine, but that’s for a different essay.
I swore off social media on February 23, 2024, and my time away from the platforms has been, once again, illuminating.
The first day — always a thrill.
The second day — always a letdown.
And I can’t even say I like
I missed seeing what my friends were up to. I missed the memes. I missed the hilarious posts. I missed the Harry Potter content and the astrological whatnot.
I felt very alone in the early days of this deal I made with myself. I felt antsy, scattered, angry, distracted (I know), and distant.
I didn’t know what to do with myself so I didn’t do anything.
I paced around my apartment and complained to my boyfriend that I hadn’t seen my friends in a while. He pointed out that we really hadn’t been around much, and when we were around, we were packing and moving. He also said that my friends understand that life gets busy sometimes, but that I’ll always go see them when I have the chance.
And he was right. Our life has been very full lately.
Social media let me have a crumb of my friends’ worlds. And that’s what I missed. The simple knowing of what they shared out there.
Now, of course, I can and did and do talk to my friends directly. But I hadn’t realized how much of a crutch I let my phone and Instagram become for social interaction. I can barely call it interaction as I’m not an active participant in most conversations or posts. I just used the DMs and shared like, one post a year.
I last took a break from social media almost four years ago. I was a month into it when I wrote about it previously. I was reading that essay just now, and this jumped out at me:
I do fear that I will fall back into my old ways because it’s so easy to slip. I’ve gone 30 days without using either platform, but usually after a week or so of curbed usage, I’m right back to where I was before. I’m hoping that this time because of the extended period (15 weeks instead of just over four), I won’t fall back into my old habits at all.
I didn’t fall back into my habits immediately, but over time I did.
I know my 52 weeks won’t solve my problems, but it will give me the space to attempt to solve them.
And that’s more than enough of a reason for me to stay the course.
PS — If you’re wondering about that contract I signed with myself, subscribe to my newsletter and receive a free template for your own endeavors.
Just Like Starting Over
I’m a touch nervous as I type this. It’s late on Sunday, March 10, 2024 and I told myself I would build my website and post a blog by Friday. This is a poor excuse for a post, but you gotta (re)start somewhere. So here I am. Again.
It might be harder to restart something old than to do something brand new. But I’m here for the challenge.