Hello all,
Last week, head of Instagram Adam Mosseri donned a dark turquoise button down, put on his chunkiest post-hipster glasses and tousled his hair with just the slightest bit of product. He was careful not to shave, leaving an even layer of stubble to subliminally convey that he’s been too busy to keep up with all aspects of his beauty regime. He set up his phone by a well lit window (no ring lights for Adam) and leaned into the front facing camera, confronting both his image and the entire social media platform. In a convincing high school english teacher tone, he announced that the app is no longer a place for photos. Long story short, it’s gearing up to be TikTok 2.0: Shopping Edition—we should prepare for “changes”. He logged off with a peace sign (this should be unpacked further but we don’t have the time today) and left the chat.
Gabi showed me the video over breakfast and we mused about the ways it would change the app and possibly the world. Days later, I’m still thinking about the significance of constantly placing oneself into the context of a video. With the steady rise of video content, it seems humans at large are longing for an outlet that allows us to become less obsessed with the self and more invested in the character.
I started making short art videos in 2016 as a form of self therapy. Through the lens of a camera and editing software, I was able to find detachment from my troubles, humor in some of them. Problems became paper orbs, packing supplies or old invoices taken from the trash can at work. Manipulating these material objects provided me with a sense of control during a very chaotic period.
Subconsciously I was casting spells with my imagery, moving pieces into place until I accepted that I was the master of my own universe. Unknowingly, I kept energy flowing in the direction I wanted by playing with symbols of my own creation.
By placing myself in a removed visual environment, I was literally becoming a witness to my character and narrative. I watched as I walked around picking up purple flower petals and stuttered into the camera for a job interview. It was a role. One that I might not have prepared for, but I was slowly finding my light, hitting the best angles.
Little roles are everywhere nowadays. No matter how authentic you may want to be on social media, it’s impossible to portray the whole of your experience. By default, we create a character that can translate across the platform’s single dimension. More and more, I think this is a good thing. We are given the chance to reflect on the narrative we’re telling, because we can see it replayed over and over in our feed. Like it or not, the way we tell a story affects its outcome.
By watching our social media character, we are practicing the greatest tool of self awareness: looking at our thoughts and actions just as you would a movie on a screen.
When we go to the theatre, we expect to see a movie in which something tricky occurs. Say, it’s the 2005 blockbuster Mr. & Mrs. Smith, with Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie playing a married couple. Unfortunately, their relationship is lackluster, but it’s only because they’re both secret assassins!! Eventually we discover they’ve both been given the instructions to kill one another. If they fail, their separate agencies will have to do them both in. The entire tale revolves around the characters’ reaction to this single issue and the lengths they go to make things right. While this double assassin thing creates a very stressful situation, it’s a thrilling movie. We’re led into a car chase, a stunning romance and finally a shoot out in a department store.
After movies like this, audiences applaud when credits roll, even though logically we all know the filmmakers aren’t around to hear it. We derive entertainment from watching other people work out their issues.
Yet when one problem happens in our actual lives, it is labelled as anxiety inducing. By simply putting enough angsty energy towards a potential issue, we can ignite a chain reaction, leaving our worries confirmed. When we give too much credence to the wandering mind, it has the ability to center itself in a fixed role. This ensures that our thoughts will take everything personally, leading the narrative with the importance of self. Emphasis rests on the I, without leaving room for the magic and fluidity of character to come into play.
Character provides us with distance from our problems. While this sounds unhealthy and avoidant, the outcome we’re going for is non-reactive. If we ran up to Mr. Smith and tried to block him from incoming missiles, we’d get hurt and probably leave him in a bigger bind. By allowing things to play out without investing all of our fears and baggage we can find a solution that isn’t clouded by anxiety or other low grade energies.
In the past year or so, I’ve stepped forward as a front runner in my own life. I’m much more comfortable putting others first and historically I’ve done just that. Of course it has been exciting to assume a more prominent role. I’ve discovered my value in ways that I never would have expected. With that value, comes the idea that I could lose it. There are stakes. I’ve taken risks and while I’ve seen some reward, it’s not all paid off yet and there are days where it feels like the edge is all too thin. I’m very grateful to have a couple key people in life with whom I can be open about these feelings (and I guess now everyone who reads this newsletter), but there are days where the mind is all-consuming and I feel extremely worried and alone. I can attest that on those days I am incapable of getting anything done. I maybe took a nice walk or made myself a special dessert (shout out eating to cope) but can’t think of a time that I was in a spiral and felt divine inspiration. As someone who is slow to process emotions, I know that I’m in a good place when I can tap into the stream that provides creativity. Creative expression is a divine presence in this mortal realm, no doubt about it.
But the divine connection line shuts down when I get too involved in the personal and the circumstances that surround it. When things aren’t going well for the person, the walls want to close in. And once that happens, it can be a while before I find a way out. At this point, I don’t have the time to spend my energy going through this process. It’s imperative that I keep my head above water. In moments of self doubt, fear, insecurity, I always try to redirect to the witness perspective. This creates room to experience these emotions without allowing them to consume me.
The witness stands in the eternal space. It can see the ebbs and flows of the human experience and feels only the expansive truth. As the character rides the big wave, the witness says nothing to distract. That way the character can smoothly get into the glistening curl, right in the center where the only way out is through.
And the witness knows, there is always a way through to the other side.
Thats all for today.
I’ll see you on Friday with a Meditative Journal Prompt for subscribers and Sunday with Moments for Now.
If you find yourself struck by a moment of total now, document it as a ritual of presence. Take a photo or write a short description, then send it to momentsfornow@gmail.com - all submissions will be shared anonymously.
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Until next time,
James