"A mind adrift in a sea of its own making is far more interesting than a mind following a trail of hyperlinks."
Over the weekend I read this beautifully written essay on Kinfolk. It grapples with the idea of really, truly disconnecting—not necessarily in a tech sense...more like allowing yourself to do absolutely nothing. It's a really interesting thing to think about. Even when I'm doing something so basic as reading a book I can be hyper aware of the act in and of itself; what it looks like and the image I'm projecting by doing it. Like, instead of reading this book should I Instagram it next to a bowl of artisanal granola? Do I have any artisanal granola? Can I make my own, really quickly? Maybe I should buy a book on how to make artisanal granola at home and read that. In all seriousness I find it often really difficult to get lost in a good book. Every time I reach a new chapter it's like, ok, finished that portion—what's next? Am I continuing on? How many pages is that? Just being and forgetting is a kind of challenge. Just going to bed and not going to bed after I check all the apps on my phone ("Only two new likes!? You're all sluts") requires a good bit of will power.
And I'll own up to being a bit compulsive about these things. I routinely check on my stats here and there, all over the place. Who favorited my tweet? Has anyone pinned anything from my blog? Do I have any new Facebook fans? I can't even remember what life was like before I had all these running tallies going in my mind, which I guess is this weird side effect of digitization. Everything is quantified, everything is stats. Worth—even self-worth—can feel like little more than a numbers game.
