The Bond Between Deliberate Reading And Freedom
For Lent this year, I gave up reading online articles. Yes, articles just like the one you’re reading now. Oh, the irony.
Lent is still ongoing, but the surge of creativity I’ve been feeling, the rush of ideas, the space that exists in my mind has been so awe-inspiring that I had to share at least the first half of my results early.
I’m not going to lie, it was SHOCKINGLY hard at first. I messed up on day one and found myself reading a listicle about all the things I needed to know if I was planning on moving to Greenland. No. I’m not moving to Greenland nor was I under any illusions that I would be (maybe Labrador one day… but that’s not the point).
It’s also annoying (to other people) when I tell them I can’t read the article they just sent me because I’m not doing that anymore. (To me, it’s exhilarating).
This experiment excludes me from reading everything except books, academic studies, and select magazines (SEVERELY SELECT). This being said, given my profession, I am sometimes sent an article to reference within the piece I’m assigned to write, so articles for work I have permitted (though I’m now actively seeking a way to remove even this from my life).
In short, this means, no news articles. No click bait summaries of studies or events or ideas. No time-wasting articles on how to be more productive (seriously, how much time have we collectively wasted as a species trying to learn how to be more productive? I don’t even want to know the answer). No recipes. No shopping guides. No one’s interpretation of anything.
There’s the primary sources. My intuition. Conversations with real people in the world. And God. That’s all the input.
What Happens When You Stop Reading Online Articles?
- Not having immediate answers to my questions fuels the creative fire in near-magical ways.
- I’m learning more truly valuable things more quickly than ever before.
- I’m reading more good stuff; worthy stuff—feeding my brain nutritious ideas instead of gutter trash.
- My intuition is skyrocketing, and I feel more innately connected to all things.
- I’m thinking more.
Creativity Reset
It turns out, hosting everyone else’s ideas in my mind means less space for my own ideas. Without random internet people’s thoughts on new studies and what the government should do and how I should schedule out my day and set goals and exercise and eat… etc., there’s more space for my own organic ideas to surface.
I’m shot with arrows or lightning bolts multiple times per day: tweaks for my stories that exist, editing ideas, whole new tales waiting to be written. I have more ideas than I can put down, meaning my treasure chest of concepts to be explored in the future is overflowing (and I am more pumped for my artistic future than ever before because no matter what comes from the stories I’m working on now, there’s literally hundreds of new things to work on).
I’m Learning REAL Things
There is a lost, old-fashioned art to figuring things out yourself. And yes, I’ve made a few easily avoidable mistakes this Lent season, like putting too many lettuce seeds too close together, (my garden is now strangling itself with wild leafy greens and surgery is required). But I’m rediscovering the art of trial and error, or learning by doing and the lessons are REAL and they stick.
I’ve learned more things about being capable in this first half of lent season than I maybe have my entire life. When I wonder about something, I don’t type it into DuckDuckGo (Side note: please tell me you’re not still using Google. PLEASE. We know better by now). I wonder about it. I experiment. I learn. I feel like I’m getting an education in the truest sense of the word.
Without Time-Sucking Garbage, I’m Reading More Of The Things I’ve Always Wanted To AND LOVING IT
It turns out that online articles were taking up a fair amount of my reading time. I have the space now to cautiously choose what I feed my mind. I peruse the local bookstores and select the gems that feel like they’re adding to my life and mind. I’m reading them more slowly. I’m reading more deliberately. I’m appreciating the things I read more because they feel rare: most things don’t make the cut.
I have the time to read genuine academic studies, to read the classics I’ve always wanted to devour. I’ve started to look at reading as medicinal: there are things that I can put into my mind that add to my life, and there are things that, if read, can take away from it.
Without Society’s Answers To All My Questions, I’m Living More Intuitively And More Religiously
Maybe it’s a survival instinct that kicks in because I no longer have the world’s answers at my fingertips, but I have to rely more heavily on my senses. I can’t just look up the ideal temperature and length of time to roast the beef, I have to open the oven and feel it out for myself. Without looking up the weather before I head out, I need to feel the morning air and look at the clouds.
Forced to rely on the subtle cues my mind and body and spirit are sending me, my ability to sense things is growing at a harrowing pace. The little wonders I’m discovering all on my own through testing my intuition is grounding and delicious. I feel more in the world, more connected to all things, including God which was my aim with this experiment. (It turns out God wasn’t such a big fan of me being influenced by the internet masses…).
With No Online Articles To Tell Me What To Think, I’m Thinking For Myself
Without random internet strangers to chew and digest ideas for me, I am actually thinking about things, wondering about the world and how stuff works and feeling out the conclusions I come to with my own mind. My thoughts feel more free and more mine than ever before. As someone who has struggled with separating myself from what I was told to do and think for many years, this is one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received.
Moving Forward: The Analog Life
Understanding that my mind, focus, and attention is PRIZED REAL ESTATE has opened me up to a realm of experiments along these lines. I’m slowly working my way towards a more analog existence, outside the never-ending churn of blogger repeating blogger, journalist repeating journalist, expert repeating expert, artist mimicking artist. I fully intend to keep my reading of online articles at near to nothing.
To manage this in a full-time sense, I’m going to make a few adjustments. I will read blog posts written by friends. I’m a writer, I have a lot of writing buddies and I love encouraging their writing, commenting, and sharing. I will also allow myself to sign up for the occasional newsletter which contains online articles from the week. If I don’t trust the person’s thinking or work enough to read the emails they send me, to share my email address with them, I shouldn’t be reading their work. Full stop.
I’ve also become more aware of the negative effects of taking in other people’s conclusions, more aware of the space in the mind that’s needed for true growth, happiness, creation, and a life worth living. I’m getting stricter with all aspects of the digital machine. When I give myself unrestrained access to everything and billions of people have unrestrained access to posting their thoughts and ideas, it’s all too easy to give up my precious mental space to something that isn’t worthy of it.
I’m looking for ways to go analog because analog requires deliberation. It requires going some place, selecting something, evaluating whether it would add to my life or not, bringing it home, and finding a place for it. I might even buy a CD player and like… three CDs (because they are EXPENSIVE nowadays). Will I find the same clarity when I limit the music I absorb to a select few albums? Not casual listening, but slow, deliberate, genuine listening?
What if I started hand-writing my first drafts? Or my blog posts and uploading a scanned image? Would that annoy you guys? (My handwriting is solidly legible, I promise).
I am actively seeking more ways to pull back from the digital, more ways to stand firmly in the real and now, and more ways to radically limit other people’s access to my mind. I want a life that is my own, and now I know that part of that involves absorbing less of other people’s thoughts.