It’s summertime. The sun is out, clothes are off and diets are in full swing.

But, while everyone else seems to be on a juice cleanse or a broth-only “lifestyle change,” I’m embarking on a mind-body journey of my own: a social media detox.

Unlike other fads this season, this crash-diet of mindfulness doesn’t cost $8 a bottle and it won’t leave you feeling hangry. With a little discipline, the side effects include a gentler demeanor, a calmer mind, and a more optimistic outlook on life.

But, we’ll see how successful I am; this isn’t my first time at the virtual rodeo. For some reason, I always need to be the phoenix that rises from the ashes. Whenever I scale back on social media for a while and I’m feeling good, the bad habits always seem to click right back. Then it’s only a matter of time before I hit a new low; the pain becomes too much, and I’m left with no choice but to make a change again.

I suppose it’s because I’ve been here before, and I know what’s waiting for me on the other side, that I’m desperate to go down this road again.

The truth is, it feels like everything is falling apart. I’m starting to believe that this poor, beautiful, fragile planet that has served us so well is melting, exploding, and rotting before our eyes. I know that it’s not true, but reading the insanity on the Internet is starting to warp my perception and give me the impression that things are worse than they really are. It’s only been a hot minute since the last national tragedy, but I’m already feeling that pain again.

Except this time, it’s different.

After the Orlando shooting, I felt a raw, tender sadness that somehow made me feel more connected, more vulnerable, and more compassionate. I don’t feel any of that now. This particular energy that is rising can’t accurately be labelled as depression or anxiety or grief. If it were any of those things, perhaps I could use it as an excuse for self-indulgence (e.g., laying on my roommate’s futon, ordering take-out, and binge-watching The Real Housewives of Dallas). Or perhaps, I would practice positive approaches, like talking honestly out loud with someone, or spending time in silence to work with my mind directly. Either way, those are familiar feelings, and I know how to deal with them. This, though, is something I can’t remember experiencing before.

This is simply infuriating hopelessness.

These past three or four or seven days, I have been glued to social media. Every hour that I scroll, I’m inundated with outrageous news articles and passionate blog posts, immersed in a sea of sorrow and rage. This recent string of violence, a new one each day in a different part of the country, is seemingly ubiquitous and never-ending. I’m overwhelmed, yet, I can’t help myself—I’m also addicted to the updates.

This destructive behavior is the norm in our society. For most of us, being plugged in is just a way of life. Have you seen those Pokémon GO folks running around town? It’s disturbing in some regard, but it does have a genuine positive impact in terms of getting people outside and interacting with each other—so I’ll leave that alone. This habitual scrolling and refreshing has reached its breaking point. Due to the content I’m consuming, I’m drowning in emotion and in generally useless information. I’ve got to take a page from my own past experience, and apply mindfulness to my online habits in order to restore my sanity and my hope.

The problem, really, is too much information. Pre-social media, you got your news once a morning—by reading it in the papers. You got the facts and went on about your day, or you had access to news but you could only watch it whenever you were home. So, at a maximum, we were consuming news a few hours per day. Now, it’s (almost) literally 24/7, with an additional interactive component that has heightened emotions. I know that I’m the one choosing to look, but it’s a compulsion that is hard to resist.

I also know I’m not the only one; my friends agree, enough is enough. This constant bombardment of sadness and anger is unhealthy, unnatural, and unproductive. Who am I benefiting by taking this all in? I can read every single tweet and every single thinkpiece and feel it all so intensely, but whom is that serving? Not me. Not the lives lost. So what’s the point?

Being aware of what’s going on in the world is a good thing. Especially if it leads to action. But let’s be real, most of us aren’t going to sit there and call our elected officials and demand reforms, no matter how many times we say we need to. Social media has been hugely instrumental in bringing all-too-common instances of injustice to the mainstream. But why can’t we present the facts and leave it at that? It is possible to be well-informed without being entrenched in the drama. You can see tragedy and feel it in your heart, without getting your head wrapped up in it.

A detox for me doesn’t mean abstaining. It means selecting hours in the day where I don’t plug in—I just live my life.

Sometimes it’s helpful to set a timer for 15 minute increments a few times a day to get my fill (emails notwithstanding, because those can be time sensitive). And when I am surfing the web, I can recognize when I start getting caught up in cyber drama. Just yesterday, I noticed myself getting invested in a heated back-and-forth and I swiftly closed the page, “not today, Satan!” That negativity gets soaked in your psyche.

Garbage in, garbage out.

Let’s not contribute to the problem by adding to the noise and the anger. We can viciously argue with each other all day about whether blue lives or black lives matter, or waste our time fighting with burnt Bernie bros trying fervently to make Jill Stein happen (it’s not going to happen), but that is not solving anything. Right now, the world doesn’t need another person clinging to their ego-based delusions. Right now, more than ever, we need to keep calm, reclaim our dignity, and awaken.

I think back to the film Titanic. When the ship was sinking and everybody was crying, flailing, and resisting, a few stayed sane: the orchestra members. Somehow, in the midst of disaster, they chose acceptance. They stood on the deck playing beautiful music, and found contentment in the present moment. They surrendered, because, truly, it was the only choice they had.

Thankfully, it isn’t that dire for us. We still have time left to reverse the horrors of our world. But we can’t do it by yelling into the void or turning our minds into goo by staring into screens ad infinitum. We need to step back from the situation, breathe, and work on being the solution. Through stillness, intelligence rises.

Presence is a privilege that we can all enjoy; peace transcends politics.

It’s easy to feel guilty for being happy while others are out there struggling. But we shouldn’t. We need to take care of ourselves in order to be of service to others. So I am taking a moment out of the whirlpool, to enjoy what’s in front of me. I’m seeing the world as it is, and not just the wholly negative version that the media presents.

When everything else around you is destroyed, basic goodness is all that remains.

That’s what we need to reconnect with. We must take the glow of that goodness and make the world lighter. The most important difference we can make is in small, manageable and ordinary ways in our everyday life.

Social media gives the illusion that hell has broken lose, which to some extent it has, but it’s not the full story. There is still so much good to be found, right in front of you, right in this moment. In the wake of tragedy, let us open up to our world. Offline, inside, and all around, basic goodness prevails, if only we are mindful enough to notice it and compassionate enough to share it with others.

Author: Stephen Wickhem

Image: Pixabay 

Apprentice Editor: Julie Balsiger; Editor: Emily Bartran