One Thing At A Time

On overstimulation and returning to enjoyment

For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a curious person with a large capacity to love something if it strikes me right. I’m not often influenced by the sheer reactions of others and I typically avoid outside opinion until I’ve seen for myself. I didn’t learn the contrarian joys of hating until high school came around. What’s better than never having experienced anything, not having a fully developed brain, and being smarter/having better taste than every single person on the planet? Pretension in your teens is funny in hindsight but it’s best not to carry on such behaviors as an adult (if you ask me at least).

These days, many years removed from my deep need to be different, I find it deeply uninteresting to hate everything. There’s nothing impressive about being a fan of nothing, it’s actually a rather boring existence to imagine for myself. Despite this, over the last year or so I experienced an intense sort of regression that caused me to hate everything again. Not in a specific or purposeful manner, but in a way that was mostly detrimental to my ability to enjoy anything around me. After months of this unwanted disdain I came to the realization that I wasn’t experiencing a fresh bout of hater syndrome at all, I was simply numb and overwhelmed.

Every time I open my phone I get a little dizzy from how much is in front of me. All the little icons that open up dimensions filled with infinite information, work, news, and advertisements disguised in shapes and forms I’ve not yet learned to avoid. Picking my next song turns into—responding to a text turns into—a quick email refresh turns into—a quick Instagram check while I’m here turns into—queuing up another song turns into—I’m not even sure what I want to listen to turns into—wait what have I even been listening to where did that list move to in the update turns into—how do I get this merch off my screen I’m not looking for merch turns into—what the fuck am I doing I should be grabbing that roll of paper towels I was just going to grab. The tactics employed for engagement are too strong and they’re not even hiding them anymore. And even more so, there’s just more stuff than ever.

Though it seems like it would be the diagnosis, phone addiction isn’t the main problem at hand for me at this point. Thanks to the undefeated duo that is Blank and Brick I spend far less time scrolling aimlessly than I have in recent years. What I’ve found I’m dealing with is overstimulation. Every time my pocket-sized super computer scans my irises and opens at my thumbs swipe I am bulldozed by everything that exists and more. My new found self-control is no competitor to what overwhelms me because they are simply not opponents. What’s beating my ass is the volume at which things are presented to me—The access I have to everything, even when I don’t want it. Though I’ve learned to give into it less its presence still affects me far more than I ever would have assumed. For instance, in the past year I’ve had trouble caring about music because there are too many options. To make matters worse, all of those options are fighting for a sliver of my already fragmented attention span. And to make matters even worse than that, most of those people making said music would rather not fight for my attention in the ways that they do. But alas, we kneel to the Throne of Algorithm. There’s an onslaught of opportunity any time I’m looking to accomplish something on my phone. Truthfully, theres an onslaught of opportunity in reality too. Whether we like it or not, we are nearing critical mass in regards to our consumption globally and whether it be in our lifetime or another, someone will have to pay for all that we’ve made. Anyways, lets bring it back to the reality of now and leave the existentialist ramblings for another time.

The question stands, what’s my solution if phone addiction is something I feel I’ve tackled in a substantial way?

There’s an obvious answer, throw my iPhone into the ocean and find god somewhere on a countryside. Work the land, raise some cattle, real homestead situation. There’s no use in me wasting my time pretending I could do such a thing. It doesn’t even sound fun when I really think about it truth be told. What I needed to learn was how to do One Thing At a Time. That’s it, that’s the trick. For example, if I’m going for a walk I should pick the music before I start walking. The goal is to avoid unnecessary usage regardless of utility or convenience. If I’m watching a movie I can’t touch my phone until it’s over. As ridiculous as it sounds I’m looking to experience as much of my life outside of the glow of a phone as I can. For me, any kind of contact with my screen amidst an experience diverts me from what could have been. That outlook might be a bit severe and dramatic but I’m unsure of how else to get the point across to myself.

Mostly I feel embarrassed when I can’t do one thing at a time. Walking around the neighborhood with my face fixated on my phone feels like a public shaming ritual though I know no one cares. I’d argue that this sort of embarrassment is good for me. The trap with multi-tasking is that you run the risk of not caring about anything you’re doing. Sure you’re acting and experiencing but to what degree? For me, not a large one. Learning to feel deep love for things came back to me when I learned to pay attention again. Clearing my mind, narrowing my focus, letting things sit with me as I sit with them. There’s a chance that none of this works for you and if it doesn’t that’s okay, this is just what I’ve felt and seen for myself. Regardless of it all I hope that you’re enjoying what’s around you, and if you’re not, just take it one thing at a time.

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