Just before my son Mitch turned two, we broke his habit of using a pacifier when falling asleep. Those little pacifiers comforted and calmed him his whole life up to that point. He took the transition like a trooper, but you could tell the change was hard. He needed a substitute to replace his former calming habit. We would rock him or rub his head as he cuddled in his crib waiting to fall asleep. He asked for his pacifier at first, but it’s been over three months now and his habit is broken.
I took my pacifier away for Lent this year. My pacifier doesn’t go in my mouth; I hold it in my hand. I use it with my thumb when I want a few minutes of calm. This pacifier is my phone opened to Facebook or Instagram. I love to watch my Instagram stories and scroll my Facebook feed. It was habit to pick up my phone for a few minutes in the transitions or quiet moments. I would often hold it in my hand and scroll while eating meals.
The quiet that has come as I have stopped using these social media platforms is unnerving. I now notice how many pauses I have in my day. We are nearing the end of Lent, but I still hold my phone in my hand as though I am going to begin my scrolling habit. I am shocked at how attached I am…embarrassed too at this ingrained habit. Why is the pull so strong, and how do I handle those pauses in my day when I normally pick up my cell phone?
An author, who turns a phrase like a professional, held some similar sentiments in her last letter to her readers. Sarah Clarkson says, “I’ve been learning about quiet, not just, or even primarily, as a subtraction of noise, but as the psychological and spiritual homeland for which I was created, the joyous, waiting atmosphere of mind and heart in which the goodness of God can be touched and seen, heard and known. I’ve been contemplating what I believe is my loss of a quiet mind after years of scrolling the headlines, hanging on to my phone and its feed in my exhaustion and loneliness. I never meant to replace the rich hush of wonder or prayer as the foundation of my life for a mind busied with the restless online world, but somewhere along the way, I did. Somewhere along the way I fell prey to the assumption that to be busy, to be in the know, to have all the information was necessary to my well being.” *
In reading her truthful words, I could see that my draw to the online world came from desire to travel from my little one. Like Sarah, I am also tempted to replace the hush and stillness of a quiet mind. Browsing social media felt like a look into the homes and lives of friends, a door to peering at world events, and an opportunity to laugh at the ridiculous. My mind, created for wonder and whimsy, was bored and the social media was my pacifier. And now I wonder if it was necessary for me to see myself this Lent, over and over holding my phone, wondering what to do next. I needed to notice the void and boredom.
The quiet, the feeling of empty or dull is turning my gaze towards what is beautiful and true. I am noticing my thoughts more frequently and observing how I handle my emotions. I’m drawing more towards prayer. Though I have yet to make prayer a habit in my daily pauses and transitions, oh, I want to! My boredom is being replaced with learning as I have been watching classes and reading more books. The hush is helping me notice things. The dull space is being replaced with light.
I wonder two things as I think about my Lenten “sacrifice.” One: am I finished with this lesson of stillness and ready to jump back into my social media exploration frenzy? Two: when I do feel ready to reenter more online participation, how will I know when it’s a good thing and when I am only distracted and entertained? The uncomfortable hush lures me towards another way- a way of noticing my internal thoughts and looking towards contemplation and prayer.
The desire to check social media is still there. I’m still uncomfortable in the pause. I want to pray more and remember the constant Presence that speaks in stillness.
How about you? What is your pacifier and what would happen if you slid it away in a drawer for a few weeks? Would you notice a space or void from pausing this habit? Could it be replaced with something better? The hush might pull you towards something new. A habit of prayer, or quiet pause, or restful waiting could replace your normal pacifier. You get to decide, and now you know my small wrestle in the waiting this Lent.
-Kassie Joy
*This quote is from Sarah Clarkson’s e-mail titled An Appetite for Life: https://mailchi.mp/8f97dd06e6f5/a-note-from-sarah-an-appetite-for-life?e=5b002a4874
Loved this! A few weeks ago, I journaled about how I felt like my phone was my pacifier. (We were trying to break the habit for Angela; she’s definitely not ready yet.) It’s so difficult to tell the difference between when phone use is helpful and when it’s just a soothing habit for transitions. I definitely want to be more aware of this.
How fascinating that we both were thinking along the same lines. Breaking a habit that’s soothing is tough! I hope Angela can give up her pacifier and you and I can know when to use our phones and when to leave them in the next room.