Hello friends! If it feels like it’s been a while, it’s because it has. And that is a bit puzzling, to be honest.
The equinox was wonderful and spring, which has been slowly warming up our days, is undoubtedly here to stay. There have been gardening days, forest clearings, long hours of controlled burnings to prepare for this year’s fire season, flower bouquets, and even the first dips in the creek. I’ve cooked delightful new meals, and we had lunches with friends and horseback (and donkeyback) rides with neighbors. And yet, I captured none of it. I shared none of it. My camera wasn’t even with me on most days, and the words I weave to describe my daily life didn’t roll off my tongue — or keyboard.
It’s curious, leaving social media. I’m feeling things I didn’t really expect to feel or experience. The other day I was listening to the Off the Grid podcast (which I’ve mentioned here before as a supportive resource for anyone considering leaving social media) and this recent episode really resonated with me and made me pause as I was chopping vegetables for dinner. I just stood there, half-chopped onion on the cutting board and a couple tears streaming down my face for that onion, nodding as I listened to the host speak.
Amelia was describing the 5 steps of leaving social media, from their personal perspective, at least. Stage 1 is burnout, stage 2 is content creation frenzy (been there!), and stage 3 is… Return to human pace. And this is exactly where I am now.
When we’re on social media (SM), there is this infinite loop of engagement. Even though I didn’t post every day and sometimes went a few weeks without posting at all, there was an unfailing stream of engagement and dopamine at my fingertips whenever I wanted it. I was in this cycle, which many creators might be familiar with, of create, publish, repeat. Perhaps without even questioning why I chose to put myself in that position in the first place. But there I was, and it felt good, so I kept at it.
After leaving SM, the rush was still there. And so I kept creating for my blog, and taking pictures to use someday, and writing long lists of projects to photograph and posts to share. And then, about three months later, it all fell flat like a pancake. Perhaps because, outside of SM, content creating isn’t immediately met by engagement and feedback, and we’re not shouting among thousands of other shouters, all trying to be heard by whoever is passing (which is how instagram felt to me sometimes), we begin returning to a more sustainable rhythm of creation. So I’m observing this with curiosity, and seeing what this rhythm may be for me. I’m finding that I don’t need to create something to share every week, not even every two weeks. Heck, I could go over a month without creating content, a term I’m increasingly more uncomfortable with.
And this is something I had not expected. It’s quite the opposite, to be honest. I expected to be creating more. Now that all my creative energy isn’t being channeled into an algorithm-driven platform, shouldn’t I be making endless things, writing brillian pieces, shooting jaw-dropping images or something? And sharing it all with you, dear blog & newsletter readers? I am sorry — and I say this both to you and myself —, but surprisingly that doesn’t seem to be the case. For now. Because I’m pretty sure that the next stage is going to be embracing the new pace and loving it, and creating + sharing things I’m genuinely passionate about, at a pace that is right. Truth is that the little page of ideas I keep in my journal is starting to grow lines once again.
Perhaps that’s spring. Perhaps this is what leaving SM after 8 years feels like — truly embracing the rhythms and nature of the seasons. I always say that winter is a time of rest, and spring is that renewal of energy that has simply been dormant and quiet, and now I am deeply feeling that in my body, mental health, and relationship with online platforms.
Dear friends, I know this was a lot of how I am feeling and whatnot, so I leave you for now with some duck imagery. Because who knew ducks could be so much fun? They are our new addition at the hill, and we keep wondering how come we didn’t do this sooner. Ducklings are softer that cats, friendlier than chickens (and that says a lot, because I have a love affair with chickens), and have a perpetual smile on their faces. They’re clumsy and big-footed, absolutely love having company, and watching them bathe in a pond (or even a small basin!) is medicine.
So there you go, there hasn’t been content lately, but there has been a lot of contentment (ohh how corny!), and that is absolutely fine.
Hope you all have a creative and nourishing spring (or autumn, if you are in the southern hemisphere). I’ll have some fun herbal recipes for you soon, pinky promise. How are YOU feeling these days?