At the beginning of the Lenten season, Peco and I extended an invitation to our readers to join in a “Communal Digital Fast” and shift focus onto feasting on the Real. We compiled a visual guide to “Random Acts of Anachronism” and encouraged participants to make use of
I shared this on a different Substack a while back, so I'll copy here:
I remember reading a while back about a person who, before he went on the internet in any capacity, wrote down on a piece of paper what he was going online for. He'd cross things off like a checklist and then log off.
At that time, I thought it was a little nutty, but in the years since, it's increasingly wise. I don't do it every time, but having a clear sense for why I'm logging on and what I'm logging on to accomplish helps me to remember the technology is supposed to be there as a tool to help me with an intended purpose or task.
I didn’t specifically give up anything for a digital fast. The tech I rely feels too essential for getting through my daily challenges, whether that’s GPS giving me driving directions or podcasts helping me sleep and/or connect with conversations essential to my sanity.
What I did do was spend a lot of time on activities that are not tech-connected, like hand-sewing, crochet, dancing. It was an add in rather than a take-away.
I'm in the process of creating a Digital Rule of Life, post-fast, which has me asking all kinds of questions of myself right now. I'm looking forward to reading the responses here.
It was, unsurprisingly, a fruitful time. In moments of boredom or margin, I was much more apt to pick up my pen, an art medium, a book of poetry, or any of the multitude of books I've got in process. I went for more walks, went outside on the front porch for breathers, and found myself noticing the emergence of spring at such a level of intensity it poured forth in other ways. I wrote poems for the first time in a long while, drafted the majority of my write by hand, created new-to-me art forms, and read more books aloud to my children than I had in the previous year.
I think in the end, what I'm realizing is that my non "cold turkey" approach means that there's a bit more nuance every time I depart from certain digital practices (because not all are entirely gone) --- like each time I have the opportunity to go deeper by letting go of more, being more curious, or trying for more intentionality.
I was curious to find that I noticed an uptick in my laptop use as the time went on. I'd intended to set "office hours" or days for times when I'd sit to work, email, read substacks, etc, but often there was a bit of bleeding from those utilities into other things. Which has me now more certain then ever that I *do* need office hours AND a clear list of objectives when I sit down to work on the computer. I read anew or revisited several books on digital minimalism, use, and ethics -- along with focus. I'm hoping to utilize the wisdom gleaned from my own experiences and those who've written (and still write) extensively on the subject to continue refining my digital use.
In full candor -- my boys are currently playing thirty minutes of Kirby on the Nintendo Switch after six weeks of no video games (which they only played 1-3x a month before that). They've completed their school and chores for the day, made art, and played outside for a bit, and though I'm tempted to feel "a disturbance in the force," I (and they) know now an increasing fortitude and resourcing thanks to the practice of digital departures.
Hello Lenten comrades! I currently have Covid (for the first time ever!) after singing at a folk festival over the weekend, so I'm not sure how lucid I will be, but here goes.
I initially set a limit of 20 minutes of Internet access twice a day. That seemed like enough time to check messages, emails, etc. I used an alarm to keep to time. If I was really immersed in something, I could hit the snooze button for ten more minutes: thus the absolute maximum was an hour a day online. I also made a rule that I had to do something else in the morning before going online- going outside, doing tasks etc., and set a cut-off time of 8 p.m. I often finished before my time limit was up, or only went on once a day, say if I was out in the evening. I stayed off the book of face and Substack Notes.
I also gave up coffee and alcohol. Both of these renunciations happened of their own accord. I didn't plan them, but I was overdue for a proper reset, and it felt like 'in for a penny, in for a pound'. I also stopped eating sugar for the most part, and tried to cook proper meals. (I stopped eating late in the evenings, too, which was interesting when I was hanging out with Muslim friends, as they were observing Ramadan- not eating UNTIL the evening!)
After only a few days without this trifecta of addictive substances- Internet, coffee, alcohol- my anxiety levels dropped perceptibly. It felt like a return to a previous self / life. I felt calm and at ease. I didn't experience cravings. (I was offered alcohol many times: my stock response was "I'm off the sauce.") I got a feeling I sometimes get at folk festivals or in the wild- a feeling that this is the real world and I am my real self, a sense of both immanent magic and relaxed presence. I went out and did things, read books, wrote some letters, and phoned people up.
I also stopped reading the news, both online and in newspapers etc. Regarding the news, I noticed how other people told me things- the big news reached me that way. When I was out and about, I would hear the news on the radio in a shop, or see a newspaper, and notice my anxiety levels rising.
I felt happy to be following other people who were on the fast too- Caroline Ross and Dougald Hine. There was a kind of solidarity in knowing that other people were in the boat with me. However, in day to day life I felt more acutely than usual the gap between my Luddite life and the tech-saturated lives of others, and that felt somewhat painful and lonely.
If I think about what didn't work, I think I had expected it to be more difficult than it was, so I made some rules that I then relaxed when I realised I didn't need them, such as logging out of everything, and using the Notebook rule when I was writing on Substack (that one just messed with my flow).
When I told people what I was doing, I had a range of responses. Most people seemed to feel it was a very big deal and extremely difficult.
Any addictive behaviour has its roots in emotion. Addictions are generally escapism from unpleasant feelings, but they only work imperfectly and in the short term. The reason it was easy for me not to cheat was that I felt so much better for knocking off my bad habits, therefore I was able to see more clearly the feelings that were driving me to avoidant behaviour in the first place and the cyclical nature of those behaviours once in play. I tried to pay attention to what was happening in my body. With the lucidity gained from sobriety and with my cortisol levels low, it was very apparent when I was engaging in something that made me feel worse rather than better.
One of the most interesting things for me was observing how multiple bad habits feed each other: stopping one meant stopping the others. I drank ceremonial whisky at my friend's wake, but aside from that I am still not drinking alcohol. I have started drinking coffee sometimes as I am far less anxiety-prone. I am unsure whether I will continue with sobriety, but I intend to continue to limit my Internet use going forward. This experiment has only hardened my Luddite resolve. I feel that I have broken the backs of my bad habits, put my money where my mouth is, and proven to myself that the real world is a better place to inhabit.
Mine went only slightly better than I’d planned. I had some commitments on social media that I had to post, and found myself scrolling more often. But, I’ve stopped charging my phone in my bedroom (this I’ll keep!) and it’s helpful because now when I wake up (to an actual alarm clock) I don’t immediately reach for my phone to scroll on Substack or through emails. I think I’ll also be going back to using social media via my computer and not on my phone all the time, as well as time off on the weekends. I’m still working toward a balance of being online and not letting it use all my time, but taking things off my phone really helps and making it harder to reach for my phone (like in the morning) has also been a huge help!
Sigh, my tech fast pretty much crashed and burned & I just decided to lean into that. I have been in physical therapy for back problems for over a year now (much to my dismay) and have a house full of little kids and sometimes it’s a blessing to lay in bed on my heating pad and scroll my phone during my arbitrary “no phone” hours I had set for myself. I realized it’s not a lack of motivation but mostly physical challenges keeping me on my phone more than I would like so I am just trying to embrace reality as it is. I am hopeful for spring and all the extra outdoor time it will afford (while also trying to temper expectations: my garden plans will surely be more than my back can handle 😆).
It was a small thing, but I gave up during Lent what was becoming a time-sucking habit online: starting my day playing Wordle and other games on the New York Times website. Going forward, I'm limiting myself to once a week on the NYT games, like on Sunday afternoons. Jettisoning the daily games definitely opened up a space for more quiet time, reading and talking with my wife over that first cup of coffee.
For me, this Lent was a return to classic literature (on the page and in my earbuds as audio books). I’m currently early-on into The Count of Monte Cristo and am delighted that I’ll be able to enjoy that world (and learn some history) for so many more pages!
Well, as usual, mixed results over here. Keeping Safari off my phone is a helpful boundary and results in me using my nursing time to pray or read more often. I also don’t google things when I’m anxious. This is a keeper.
I have realized I need some more stringent guidelines with Substack. Adding in another publication has been a lot more than I expected. I like it, but something may have to give. I’m trying to determine if I can just alternate posting schedules. Regardless, my rule of not getting on until after 1 pm is a very good one. I had to do this with Instagram as well when I was on. And while content wise, I find Substack more wholesome, it’s just as much or more of a time suck. So I think I’m going to experiment with taking 2 days off entirely. I determined when thinking this through that if I publish on Tues (food/health) and Friday (writing) then I have no excuse to not take Wed and Sun completely off. I just need more time to forget that the Internet exists. I also realized that posting research heavy content on Monday is bad for our family Sunday, so that needs to shift.
And I’ve determined that it’s just not realistic to post while moving so I may just take a whole month off and pause subscriptions. It’s just so easy for me to try to escape difficult emotions this way. The writing itself can be helpful, but the ancillary “stuff” has a continual creep.
And, overall I have again observed the pattern that when things are difficult emotionally, or my kids are especially needy (or both), I tend to reach for escapism, and while it makes me feel a little better it worsens the overall tenor of things considerably.
In terms of life, the goal for this month is to take a walk every day that we are not leaving the house for any set commitments (so three times a week). We’re backing way off on formal schoolwork for everyone’s sanity, but I’ve noticed that as we’re more preoccupied with moving and so many big changes my children desperately need connection and ways to work out their big feelings (and actually I do too). We went for a walk and found all the first flowers today and then I rolled people up like burritos in blankets (sensory hack — but they think it’s a fun game 😆) and they are a little less nutty now.
I guess I’m just realizing over and over that we have to tend to our bodies, and our bodies live in the real world.
I can't wait to read about the fruits of this Lent for those who participated. Thank you for leading this and reaching out about results!
As I was watching the incense rise in church yesterday, I was thinking of how much I want this Easter to be a true Resurrection in my life, a rebirth after a challenging year. Easter is so freeing, such a joyful invitation to live life in the belief that "Alleluia is our song!" So for me, although I didn't make any tech changes over Lent, I hope to make changes in this Easter season, to live with greater trust in God's goodness (I'm thinking of Kerri Christopher's recent post on a better version of an abundance mindset! https://www.substack.claritylifeconsulting.com/p/are-you-discerning-from-scarcity).
I'm very glad that Ruth and Peco have a Substack like this. I've been struggling with anger and hopelessness, even as an Evangelical Christian, for some time now. Most of the anger is directed at other "Christians", but I won't waste time elaborating about that here.
I've been searching for an approach to keep the weight of the sins of the entire world being delivered on my doorstep every hour.
All of this to say, I appreciate what is being done in this Substack, it's unique and appreciated. I like the idea of designating certain days or hours for internet use. I'll report back here on any success or problems.
Ironically, I didn't hear about this until now because I had already cut back on my digital consumption. By now, I think we all know the truth: the more we shun artifice and embrace experiences that are unmediated by electronic devices, the happier and healthier we are.
During Lent, I took Facebook off my phone. Within one day, my mind felt clearer. My the end of Lent, my mind and soul were cleaner. I also put a hold on the newspaper and paid less attention to the daily news. Now that Lent is over, Facebook will stay off my phone and the newspaper will move to a weekend subscription only.
Lent is such a fruitful time to reset and build better habits to carry forward. I’ve found so much inspiration from the posts and comments here, looking forward to reading more! Here’s my recent piece about finding better online rhythms:
I did my usual social media fast during Lent. But I also added a few other things to fast from over the last two weeks after one of my children noticed how I "always" seemed to be listening to a podcast. I took the apple podcast app off my phone first. When that same child walked in and heard me listening to a Substack newsletter being read to me and said ,"Mom, I thought you weren't listening to podcasts anymore??", I then explained it wasn't a podcast. But that led me to take Substack off of my phone. I realized I was going to Substack as soon as I picked up my phone and checked texts or audio messages (via Voxer, Marco Polo, etc.). I also took Gmail off of my phone as I would go on there for a "hit" as well. But I think Substack has been the hardest to go without. However, I am making do...I simply read the newsletters when I get on my computer to check email. It has allowed me to only listen to audiobooks and to simply put my phone away more often in our ARO box and accumulate time spent on non-digital or non-smartphone related things.
I am embarrassed to acknowledge my 40-day Lenten challenge produced the same results in a swimmingly disorganized way that Addison Hodges Hart explains in his clear and concise plan for spiritual reading found in "The Yoke of Jesus: A School for the Soul in Solitude" (I read the book on Easter Monday). I will briefly outline his plan for interested readers, and then explain how I found the same path in a far more convoluted way for those who have more patience for my trial and error.
Addison Hodges Hart presents a spiritual reading plan as a series of five concentric circles. The first circle includes the Bible and commentaries that help us understand the text. The second includes includes a wide range of theologians and writers from all ages about Christianity. The third circle includes writings from other religions, history, philosophy, literature, poetry, and the sciences. The fourth circle includes the news of the day, and journalists who write about the world, culture, and currents. Finally, the fifth circle includes light reading, “when needed.”
I started my Lenten fast by continuing to read and study Scripture every day. Although I am a Catholic, I use the Presbyterian commentary series on the Old and New Testament published by Westminster John Knox Press. I use the Breviary and the Catholic Catechism as my traditional sources for Catholic prayer and theology, but I am also reading the Orthodox theologian Jaroslav Pelikan on Christian tradition, Quaker writer Thomas Kelly, and of course, Anglican Addison Hodges Hart! About half my time reading, studying, and using this material for prayer are spent within the first two circles. The last three ‘circles’ were the ones I struggled to organize over Lent. Before the fast, I spent far too much time reading Substacks, current magazines of all types, and newspapers. For Lent, I cut my Substack reading to my favorites, ignored the NYT, television, and radio, and read magazines more thoughtfully. I also eliminated podcasts and spent my time driving (not so pleasant) and walking in nature (much better) in silence. Without reading so much material from circle four, I was able to read more history, biology, literature, and poetry. I will continue to read more novels; I found them particularly enriching. My favorite books from ‘circle three’ during this forty-day period are the novel "My Friends" by Hisham Matar and the history book "Remembering Peasants: A Personal history of a Vanished World" by Patrick Joyce. Light reading for me broadens to include sports (yes, baseball season thoughtfully began after Easter), an occasional classical concert, and surprising delights on the internet such as watching Ilia Malinin land six quad jumps to clinch the men’s world championship in figure skating. I freely admit to engaging in light reading and activities more than “needed.”
It’s rewarding to realize that my struggles over what and how to read during Lent landed me close to the wisdom of Addison Hodges Hart!
I shared this on a different Substack a while back, so I'll copy here:
I remember reading a while back about a person who, before he went on the internet in any capacity, wrote down on a piece of paper what he was going online for. He'd cross things off like a checklist and then log off.
At that time, I thought it was a little nutty, but in the years since, it's increasingly wise. I don't do it every time, but having a clear sense for why I'm logging on and what I'm logging on to accomplish helps me to remember the technology is supposed to be there as a tool to help me with an intended purpose or task.
I didn’t specifically give up anything for a digital fast. The tech I rely feels too essential for getting through my daily challenges, whether that’s GPS giving me driving directions or podcasts helping me sleep and/or connect with conversations essential to my sanity.
What I did do was spend a lot of time on activities that are not tech-connected, like hand-sewing, crochet, dancing. It was an add in rather than a take-away.
I'm in the process of creating a Digital Rule of Life, post-fast, which has me asking all kinds of questions of myself right now. I'm looking forward to reading the responses here.
It was, unsurprisingly, a fruitful time. In moments of boredom or margin, I was much more apt to pick up my pen, an art medium, a book of poetry, or any of the multitude of books I've got in process. I went for more walks, went outside on the front porch for breathers, and found myself noticing the emergence of spring at such a level of intensity it poured forth in other ways. I wrote poems for the first time in a long while, drafted the majority of my write by hand, created new-to-me art forms, and read more books aloud to my children than I had in the previous year.
I shared a few "field notes" from my fast in my monthly updates in February: https://kristineneeley.substack.com/p/mixed-media-february-airmail and March: https://kristineneeley.substack.com/p/flying-faster/comments if anyone feels like seeing real-time updates.
I think in the end, what I'm realizing is that my non "cold turkey" approach means that there's a bit more nuance every time I depart from certain digital practices (because not all are entirely gone) --- like each time I have the opportunity to go deeper by letting go of more, being more curious, or trying for more intentionality.
I was curious to find that I noticed an uptick in my laptop use as the time went on. I'd intended to set "office hours" or days for times when I'd sit to work, email, read substacks, etc, but often there was a bit of bleeding from those utilities into other things. Which has me now more certain then ever that I *do* need office hours AND a clear list of objectives when I sit down to work on the computer. I read anew or revisited several books on digital minimalism, use, and ethics -- along with focus. I'm hoping to utilize the wisdom gleaned from my own experiences and those who've written (and still write) extensively on the subject to continue refining my digital use.
In full candor -- my boys are currently playing thirty minutes of Kirby on the Nintendo Switch after six weeks of no video games (which they only played 1-3x a month before that). They've completed their school and chores for the day, made art, and played outside for a bit, and though I'm tempted to feel "a disturbance in the force," I (and they) know now an increasing fortitude and resourcing thanks to the practice of digital departures.
Hello Lenten comrades! I currently have Covid (for the first time ever!) after singing at a folk festival over the weekend, so I'm not sure how lucid I will be, but here goes.
I initially set a limit of 20 minutes of Internet access twice a day. That seemed like enough time to check messages, emails, etc. I used an alarm to keep to time. If I was really immersed in something, I could hit the snooze button for ten more minutes: thus the absolute maximum was an hour a day online. I also made a rule that I had to do something else in the morning before going online- going outside, doing tasks etc., and set a cut-off time of 8 p.m. I often finished before my time limit was up, or only went on once a day, say if I was out in the evening. I stayed off the book of face and Substack Notes.
I also gave up coffee and alcohol. Both of these renunciations happened of their own accord. I didn't plan them, but I was overdue for a proper reset, and it felt like 'in for a penny, in for a pound'. I also stopped eating sugar for the most part, and tried to cook proper meals. (I stopped eating late in the evenings, too, which was interesting when I was hanging out with Muslim friends, as they were observing Ramadan- not eating UNTIL the evening!)
After only a few days without this trifecta of addictive substances- Internet, coffee, alcohol- my anxiety levels dropped perceptibly. It felt like a return to a previous self / life. I felt calm and at ease. I didn't experience cravings. (I was offered alcohol many times: my stock response was "I'm off the sauce.") I got a feeling I sometimes get at folk festivals or in the wild- a feeling that this is the real world and I am my real self, a sense of both immanent magic and relaxed presence. I went out and did things, read books, wrote some letters, and phoned people up.
I also stopped reading the news, both online and in newspapers etc. Regarding the news, I noticed how other people told me things- the big news reached me that way. When I was out and about, I would hear the news on the radio in a shop, or see a newspaper, and notice my anxiety levels rising.
I felt happy to be following other people who were on the fast too- Caroline Ross and Dougald Hine. There was a kind of solidarity in knowing that other people were in the boat with me. However, in day to day life I felt more acutely than usual the gap between my Luddite life and the tech-saturated lives of others, and that felt somewhat painful and lonely.
If I think about what didn't work, I think I had expected it to be more difficult than it was, so I made some rules that I then relaxed when I realised I didn't need them, such as logging out of everything, and using the Notebook rule when I was writing on Substack (that one just messed with my flow).
When I told people what I was doing, I had a range of responses. Most people seemed to feel it was a very big deal and extremely difficult.
Any addictive behaviour has its roots in emotion. Addictions are generally escapism from unpleasant feelings, but they only work imperfectly and in the short term. The reason it was easy for me not to cheat was that I felt so much better for knocking off my bad habits, therefore I was able to see more clearly the feelings that were driving me to avoidant behaviour in the first place and the cyclical nature of those behaviours once in play. I tried to pay attention to what was happening in my body. With the lucidity gained from sobriety and with my cortisol levels low, it was very apparent when I was engaging in something that made me feel worse rather than better.
One of the most interesting things for me was observing how multiple bad habits feed each other: stopping one meant stopping the others. I drank ceremonial whisky at my friend's wake, but aside from that I am still not drinking alcohol. I have started drinking coffee sometimes as I am far less anxiety-prone. I am unsure whether I will continue with sobriety, but I intend to continue to limit my Internet use going forward. This experiment has only hardened my Luddite resolve. I feel that I have broken the backs of my bad habits, put my money where my mouth is, and proven to myself that the real world is a better place to inhabit.
Mine went only slightly better than I’d planned. I had some commitments on social media that I had to post, and found myself scrolling more often. But, I’ve stopped charging my phone in my bedroom (this I’ll keep!) and it’s helpful because now when I wake up (to an actual alarm clock) I don’t immediately reach for my phone to scroll on Substack or through emails. I think I’ll also be going back to using social media via my computer and not on my phone all the time, as well as time off on the weekends. I’m still working toward a balance of being online and not letting it use all my time, but taking things off my phone really helps and making it harder to reach for my phone (like in the morning) has also been a huge help!
Sigh, my tech fast pretty much crashed and burned & I just decided to lean into that. I have been in physical therapy for back problems for over a year now (much to my dismay) and have a house full of little kids and sometimes it’s a blessing to lay in bed on my heating pad and scroll my phone during my arbitrary “no phone” hours I had set for myself. I realized it’s not a lack of motivation but mostly physical challenges keeping me on my phone more than I would like so I am just trying to embrace reality as it is. I am hopeful for spring and all the extra outdoor time it will afford (while also trying to temper expectations: my garden plans will surely be more than my back can handle 😆).
It was a small thing, but I gave up during Lent what was becoming a time-sucking habit online: starting my day playing Wordle and other games on the New York Times website. Going forward, I'm limiting myself to once a week on the NYT games, like on Sunday afternoons. Jettisoning the daily games definitely opened up a space for more quiet time, reading and talking with my wife over that first cup of coffee.
For me, this Lent was a return to classic literature (on the page and in my earbuds as audio books). I’m currently early-on into The Count of Monte Cristo and am delighted that I’ll be able to enjoy that world (and learn some history) for so many more pages!
Well, as usual, mixed results over here. Keeping Safari off my phone is a helpful boundary and results in me using my nursing time to pray or read more often. I also don’t google things when I’m anxious. This is a keeper.
I have realized I need some more stringent guidelines with Substack. Adding in another publication has been a lot more than I expected. I like it, but something may have to give. I’m trying to determine if I can just alternate posting schedules. Regardless, my rule of not getting on until after 1 pm is a very good one. I had to do this with Instagram as well when I was on. And while content wise, I find Substack more wholesome, it’s just as much or more of a time suck. So I think I’m going to experiment with taking 2 days off entirely. I determined when thinking this through that if I publish on Tues (food/health) and Friday (writing) then I have no excuse to not take Wed and Sun completely off. I just need more time to forget that the Internet exists. I also realized that posting research heavy content on Monday is bad for our family Sunday, so that needs to shift.
And I’ve determined that it’s just not realistic to post while moving so I may just take a whole month off and pause subscriptions. It’s just so easy for me to try to escape difficult emotions this way. The writing itself can be helpful, but the ancillary “stuff” has a continual creep.
And, overall I have again observed the pattern that when things are difficult emotionally, or my kids are especially needy (or both), I tend to reach for escapism, and while it makes me feel a little better it worsens the overall tenor of things considerably.
In terms of life, the goal for this month is to take a walk every day that we are not leaving the house for any set commitments (so three times a week). We’re backing way off on formal schoolwork for everyone’s sanity, but I’ve noticed that as we’re more preoccupied with moving and so many big changes my children desperately need connection and ways to work out their big feelings (and actually I do too). We went for a walk and found all the first flowers today and then I rolled people up like burritos in blankets (sensory hack — but they think it’s a fun game 😆) and they are a little less nutty now.
I guess I’m just realizing over and over that we have to tend to our bodies, and our bodies live in the real world.
I can't wait to read about the fruits of this Lent for those who participated. Thank you for leading this and reaching out about results!
As I was watching the incense rise in church yesterday, I was thinking of how much I want this Easter to be a true Resurrection in my life, a rebirth after a challenging year. Easter is so freeing, such a joyful invitation to live life in the belief that "Alleluia is our song!" So for me, although I didn't make any tech changes over Lent, I hope to make changes in this Easter season, to live with greater trust in God's goodness (I'm thinking of Kerri Christopher's recent post on a better version of an abundance mindset! https://www.substack.claritylifeconsulting.com/p/are-you-discerning-from-scarcity).
I'm very glad that Ruth and Peco have a Substack like this. I've been struggling with anger and hopelessness, even as an Evangelical Christian, for some time now. Most of the anger is directed at other "Christians", but I won't waste time elaborating about that here.
I've been searching for an approach to keep the weight of the sins of the entire world being delivered on my doorstep every hour.
All of this to say, I appreciate what is being done in this Substack, it's unique and appreciated. I like the idea of designating certain days or hours for internet use. I'll report back here on any success or problems.
Ironically, I didn't hear about this until now because I had already cut back on my digital consumption. By now, I think we all know the truth: the more we shun artifice and embrace experiences that are unmediated by electronic devices, the happier and healthier we are.
During Lent, I took Facebook off my phone. Within one day, my mind felt clearer. My the end of Lent, my mind and soul were cleaner. I also put a hold on the newspaper and paid less attention to the daily news. Now that Lent is over, Facebook will stay off my phone and the newspaper will move to a weekend subscription only.
Lent is such a fruitful time to reset and build better habits to carry forward. I’ve found so much inspiration from the posts and comments here, looking forward to reading more! Here’s my recent piece about finding better online rhythms:
https://bookishprincess.substack.com/p/seeking-reality-and-better-rhythms
I did my usual social media fast during Lent. But I also added a few other things to fast from over the last two weeks after one of my children noticed how I "always" seemed to be listening to a podcast. I took the apple podcast app off my phone first. When that same child walked in and heard me listening to a Substack newsletter being read to me and said ,"Mom, I thought you weren't listening to podcasts anymore??", I then explained it wasn't a podcast. But that led me to take Substack off of my phone. I realized I was going to Substack as soon as I picked up my phone and checked texts or audio messages (via Voxer, Marco Polo, etc.). I also took Gmail off of my phone as I would go on there for a "hit" as well. But I think Substack has been the hardest to go without. However, I am making do...I simply read the newsletters when I get on my computer to check email. It has allowed me to only listen to audiobooks and to simply put my phone away more often in our ARO box and accumulate time spent on non-digital or non-smartphone related things.
I am embarrassed to acknowledge my 40-day Lenten challenge produced the same results in a swimmingly disorganized way that Addison Hodges Hart explains in his clear and concise plan for spiritual reading found in "The Yoke of Jesus: A School for the Soul in Solitude" (I read the book on Easter Monday). I will briefly outline his plan for interested readers, and then explain how I found the same path in a far more convoluted way for those who have more patience for my trial and error.
Addison Hodges Hart presents a spiritual reading plan as a series of five concentric circles. The first circle includes the Bible and commentaries that help us understand the text. The second includes includes a wide range of theologians and writers from all ages about Christianity. The third circle includes writings from other religions, history, philosophy, literature, poetry, and the sciences. The fourth circle includes the news of the day, and journalists who write about the world, culture, and currents. Finally, the fifth circle includes light reading, “when needed.”
I started my Lenten fast by continuing to read and study Scripture every day. Although I am a Catholic, I use the Presbyterian commentary series on the Old and New Testament published by Westminster John Knox Press. I use the Breviary and the Catholic Catechism as my traditional sources for Catholic prayer and theology, but I am also reading the Orthodox theologian Jaroslav Pelikan on Christian tradition, Quaker writer Thomas Kelly, and of course, Anglican Addison Hodges Hart! About half my time reading, studying, and using this material for prayer are spent within the first two circles. The last three ‘circles’ were the ones I struggled to organize over Lent. Before the fast, I spent far too much time reading Substacks, current magazines of all types, and newspapers. For Lent, I cut my Substack reading to my favorites, ignored the NYT, television, and radio, and read magazines more thoughtfully. I also eliminated podcasts and spent my time driving (not so pleasant) and walking in nature (much better) in silence. Without reading so much material from circle four, I was able to read more history, biology, literature, and poetry. I will continue to read more novels; I found them particularly enriching. My favorite books from ‘circle three’ during this forty-day period are the novel "My Friends" by Hisham Matar and the history book "Remembering Peasants: A Personal history of a Vanished World" by Patrick Joyce. Light reading for me broadens to include sports (yes, baseball season thoughtfully began after Easter), an occasional classical concert, and surprising delights on the internet such as watching Ilia Malinin land six quad jumps to clinch the men’s world championship in figure skating. I freely admit to engaging in light reading and activities more than “needed.”
It’s rewarding to realize that my struggles over what and how to read during Lent landed me close to the wisdom of Addison Hodges Hart!