There & Back Again... Again 🎒
*tap tap*...Is this thing still on?
For weeks now I've been thinking about what I'd first say upon returning from my summer break, and I'll admit I still don't fully know how to summarize all that I've learned in a nice, clean list of bullet-pointed life lessons. Part of me wants this to be some epic essay full of wit and wisdom, but I’ll admit that, most likely, the words that’ll come will be fairly ordinary. For your sake, that’s probably a good thing.
I'll start by saying that I've missed this. I've missed writing this newsletter and I've missed all of you who are reading this. …How have you been the past few months? It really is good to be back here, a positive sign because by late May, when I was gathering all the links for the pre-scheduled notes you’ve received over the summer, I was truly on the brink of exhaustion. Not full burnout, mind you, but heading in that direction (and I know that path; its stepping stones and scenic overlooks are regrettably familiar to me), and I didn't want to go there.
My mind feels clearer, my perspective is sharpened, and my attitude is much more sanguine than is my typical modus operandi. For this, I’m genuinely grateful for my internet pause. 10 out of 10; would recommend for everyone.
“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow in fast movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with the summer.” — F. Scott Fitzgerald
Rather stream-of-consciousness (because after all, my essay-writing gears are a bit rusty), here are a few observations from my brief pause from saying things on the internet — it really was brief; in the big scheme of things, three months is only three months. Nothing here is something I didn't know beforehand, but the temporary egress provided, unsurprisingly, an awareness of these truths that are always there for all of us.
First off: every single one of us needs to take internet breaks more frequently. It provides such an imperative reset on what really matters and how to think clearly. I'm grateful I was able to step away for a season, and I'm glad I made the effort. It made my summer much richer, slower, and calmer. It put the internet in its rightful place in my life (more on this in a bit).
Secondly — the internet isn’t really a “place.” We call it a place, and we call particular websites on the internet places; in fact, I’ve had difficulty even finding the right word here besides the clinical ‘website’ to describe what I mean because every replacement that comes to mind connotes a place (locale, outpost, spot, space, corner). I'll concede to this because there really is no other word I can think of that's not a placemarker (can you think of one? If so, let me know) …But the internet simply isn’t a location.
The internet is a medium through which we are able to connect and interact with each other (which is why it can feel like a place), but true places are only in the real world. The internet is ones and zeroes, masterfully woven together by people much smarter than me, created so that we have a mechanism by which we can share ideas, meet each other and converse, and even create good art.
But it’s not a place. Our dining tables, front porches, coffee shops, churches, walking trails, town squares, beachfronts, office cubicles, and favorite spots on the couch in our living rooms are places. This is where we actually live. (And yes, this means I’m convicted more than ever that online “communities” aren’t really communities, and I do wish we’d call these digital water coolers something else entirely, because but for a few exceptions1, they don’t aid in healing our cultural loneliness epidemic).
Third… As an invention, the internet really is great, and I'm grateful for it. Not only am I able to publish these words that you’re able to read, and not only are we able to interact and share ideas with each other (best when paired with an eventual in-person meeting, which has happened many times in my life over the years — a genuine phenomenon that makes the internet worth it!), but we’re able to do so much via the internet that, done right, allows us to live richer offline lives.
Perched on barstools at our kitchen island, my kids can take dual-credit college courses from universities a thousand miles away. We can buy plane tickets, research our local soil conditions, watch the weather radars for our area, stream movies and series made across the ocean, pay bills without stamps, invest our funds without a professional, learn about the most minute, specific topics of interest via videos or podcasts, and countless other random activities. When you think about it, this really is mind-blowing, and something our great-grandparents couldn't conceive of not that very long ago.
Done right, and the internet is fantastic. Those of us tempted toward a posture nay-saying ludditism (raising my hand here) often forget this.
Also? People really are great, too. My family and I led a pilgrimage to Greece & Turkey in late June, and the best part, hands down, was the people we traveled with. This is always the case with group trips. Two months later, and not a day goes by that I don't think of some of those fine folks …I’m beyond grateful our paths crossed.
I also love the people I live near, and have loved meeting new ones as we open the doors to our new co-op. We share a vested interest in our local community, and that right there might be the most poignant thing that usurps any sort of online “community” that poises itself as a community but isn't really one. We want good friends for our kids, good sidewalks and coffee shops, stop signs where there should be some, particular books available in our library, and other everyday commonplace features that make real-life communities thrive.
People are great.
Another reminder from the summer: healthy sabbaticals keep the internet in its rightful place. I needed a clean pause from publishing in order for me to remember this truth (even though I already knew it; I needed to know it-know it, you know?). This summer was probably the best our family has had in years, and part of that was, for me at least, because of my publishing break. Prioritizing time with my college daughter home for the summer over getting an essay written and published was good for my soul. Meeting friends for coffee without once checking my phone for the zeitgeist of the day was flat-out freeing, a taste of how it should always be for all of us.
It was also good for my work as a writer. This sabbatical reminded me that I care more about writing books than continually saying something relevant on the internet (as much as I enjoy writing this newsletter). It was a check on my ego, the reminder we all need that the smart insight we have about whatever-it-is today, no matter how true, doesn't always need to be said for all to read. (There were many, many times I wanted to post some well-worded quip about the news of the day2, but my break wouldn't let me, and I'm glad for it, because it didn't really matter.)
And finally… Sometimes our thoughts are indeed worthwhile and necessary to say, even when they're unpopular. I'm a people pleaser my default, so I tend to steer far away from polarizing topics. Not sure if you knew this, but there were some... newsworthy events that happened this summer. I'm glad my forced break kept me from chiming in on things, because I'm not sure I had much to say that didn't already get said3, but this publishing truce of mine helped me realize that I usually don’t say certain things out of fear I’d be misunderstood.
So far in the twenty-first century, the internet has fostered echo chamber-fueled division, a decrease in critical thinking, an unwillingness to hear nuance behind opinions (because of forgetting the flesh-and-blood behind the avatar), and a lack of empathy for those who have ideas we sharply, adamantly disagree with. It is a shame to our human condition, and we desperately need to course-correct. And yet (or perhaps because of?), sometimes those ideas still need to be said.
Over the years, my mind has been changed on a variety of topics because of words published online. Funnily enough, some of those shifts in thinking have been pendulum swings, from one side to the other and then back to my original persuasion, but never without new insights and ideas, and not without a deeper understanding of those who’ve landed on different convictions than me on a particular topic. These realizations are thanks to people who’ve had the courage and skill to say true things, clearly and with conviction.
My Overall Takeaways
• We should all take regular internet breaks. Truly — if it's been awhile for you, plan one asap.
• Read more books. Always.
• Cut out any noise that's not adding value to your life. If a podcast angers you more than clarifies the news of the day, stop listening to it. If a newsletter confuses you and your convictions more than provides insight and encouragement, unsubscribe. If a YouTube channel fosters more addiction than beauty in your life, close the tab and walk away. They’re not worth it.
• Don't hang on to the internet, fingernails clutching, out of fear you’ll become irrelevant or forgotten. For my first few years of publishing, this was what kept me from taking a regular break, but I was always, repeatedly surprised when I returned and everything was ...fine. Readers come and go, and that's okay. The right people will find your work and, hopefully, be blessed by what you share when it’s the right time to share it. Holding on tight out of desperation for significance isn’t good for your soul, and it’s not good for your creative output either.
• Touch grass.
• Prioritize real-life, local relationships over folks you know over the internet (as great as those relationships can also be!).
• If it’s been awhile, after you read this, reach out to a local friend and make plans to get together.
…I'm glad to be back. I've missed this newsletter and I’ve got good things in store! Soon I’ll be dropping a new episode to kick-off this next season of A Drink With a Friend (subscribe in your pod player, if you haven’t yet), I’ve got more essays I want to write and trips along the Rhine River to lead (and for you to join), and for those of you who are paying subscribers, I’ve got book and grat chats to join you in, more personal and particular essays to share, and otherwise good sundry to put out in the world.
It really is good to be back! Until next time, I’ll be in my backyard, weeding my raised beds and grabbing coffee with my neighbor. Go and do likewise.
Bonum in mundo,
Tsh
“Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of the water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time.” ― John Lubbock
How was your summer? Tell me something you learned in the comments.
In all love, please don’t write me with examples of the Facebook group for your local pickleball club or the online forum dedicated to the super-specific autoimmune condition your child has. Because I agree, these are the exceptions, and I'm glad they exist for you.
I mean, did you see that opening ceremony at the Paris Olympics?
Ibid. He did it way better.
100% all this. I didn't take a full break from publishing this summer, but I stepped back to writing just a couple of posts - and now that I'm re-emerging, I have this clarified notion of the importance of looking at interactions online as being an ember...something to spark real-world action, though it can so easily masquerade as accomplishment.
In many ways, the web has silently become a space of self-definition for so many of us (a sobering, frightening thought), allowing us to stay in a space of intellectualism without actually refining our thoughts in our own circumstances. Almost like we're disembodying ourselves to try to define our identities. Online, I can easily build an echo chamber for myself: something I can't easily accomplish locally. I have to actually take my ideas, the things I've consumed or shared online, and test them against the variables of my particular time and place.
I really leaned into refining our liturgical ladies (& laddies) gatherings, and it's been so fruitful...so I've come out of the summer feeling a bit of a fire lit under me to use my art & writing as a point of departure for other folks - so they can take whatever inspiration & tools they find helpful, graft them into their own lives, and leave the rest.
It's easy to just *barely* scratch the itch of socialization and relationship online, and then forego the real hard work of living in this incarnational world!
As always, I think of Clive & uncle Screwtape:
"Think of your man as a series of concentric circles, his will being the innermost, his intellect coming next, and finally his fantasy. You can hardly hope, at once, to exclude from all the circles everything that smells of the Enemy: but you must keep on shoving all the virtues outward till they are finally located in the circle of fantasy, and all the desirable qualities inward into the Will. It is only in so far as they reach the will and are there embodied in habits that the virtues are really fatal to us."
I appreciate this little shove in the direction I know I need to head. I’m a little bummed our online selves will be passing like ships, but I’m at the, “should have taken a break a month ago phase” and need to keep writing, but not the kind that is for public consumption. I think what is most insidious is how the Internet creeps in as a handy distraction where I can talk around things without actually dealing with them in my real life. When the Internet is an outflow of real life it’s beneficial for everyone; when it’s a distraction from it then it props up bad habits. And it’s so hard to determine which is which sometimes. I almost have to play detective with my own life — looking for patterns of use instead of what I’m saying (which usually isn’t itself an issue).