Look Up, Not Down pt. 5

Clarity over Abstinence

I grew up in the middle of nowhere Kansas, in what I call the Buckle of the Bible Belt. I was steeped in Purity Culture from the moment I was born. And of course, this wasn’t just from my family of origin or my church community, it made it’s way all the way through our public school system. I remember in high school health class, we were given a shockingly small amount of information about our bodies, how sex really worked, and how to keep ourselves safe, but then were told the only way to prevent unwanted pregnancy and STD’s was abstinence. We were all then given an ATM card to put in our respective wallets and purses. No, not a debit or credit card, but an ATM card, an Abstinence ‘Til Marriage card. I wish I was kidding.

Now, I would imagine anyone reading my substack is likely already very familiar with the damage these kinds of abstinence only sexual education classes have on horny adolescents with more hormones than prefrontal cortexes. Trying to stop someone from doing something potentially dangerous that we already know they’re going to do no matter what, is truly a losing battle. What is helpful in these scenarios is to give all those poor souls floundering in the chaotic, primordial waters of puberty a life raft of solid information and birth control. We can look at this approach as harm reduction, but aside from reducing unwanted pregnancy and the spread of disease, it also lays the groundwork for young adults to develop their own sexual ethics.

This is a powerful shift, especially for young people who feel out of control of their own bodies and urges. Sure, it may take more time (and more frontal lobe) for any one to be in a place where they can find real clarity about how they want to engage around sex, but whenever the process starts, it’s empowering.

Photo by Randy Jacob on Unsplash

And that’s sort of where I find myself in the midst of this Lenten practice. Life has shifted for me in a few key ways that have required me to be more “online” than I was initially hoping during this season. That has meant that my screen time has slowly creeped back up, week over week, so where last week’s screen time report looks no different than the week before I started this practice. I would be lying if I said that this wasn’t somewhat disappointing to me, but I’m realizing there is something more meaningful going on below the surface of my weekly screen time report.

Last week I spent a morning chatting with my good buddy, Brandon. Our conversations tend to run the gamut on everything from parenting to spirituality to tv and entertainment, and this particular morning we found ourselves in a discussion around our online habits. Brandon spent most of last year with something called a Light Phone. Which, is basically a dumb phone with a few extra upgraded, but limited features. No social media. No email. None of the things that make having a phone a threat to our mental and emotional well-being. It was actually seeing Brandon’s Light Phone in action a few months ago that planted the seeds of this practice.

Brandon has recently returned to the land of the blue text and migrated his sim card back into his iPhone. He was sharing his hesitance to come back fully to things like social media, but he seemed clear that while he was resistant, it’s time to re-engage. I was sharing a similar, but reversed dilemma. I was hoping to disconnect and disengage fully from social media, possibly even in hopes of being able to leave it behind completely. But for as much of me that wants to bid adu to Instagram, I’ve found it’s serving a surprisingly valuable purpose.

Photo by israel palacio on Unsplash

While we chatted, I found myself telling Brandon, with shocking clarity what, exactly, I’m using social media for. I knew this process of time away from my phone would be helpful, but I hadn’t put it to words in my own mind until they were falling out of my mouth with Brandon across the table. (This is one of the many reasons I love chatting with Brandon, we tend to bring things out in each other that we didn’t even know were there. This parenthetical statement also seems like a good place to let you know that Brandon is going to be the co-host for the next season of Conscious Construction, so get pumped on that!) What I was communicating was a clear “social media ethic.” I knew what I was doing on Instagram and Youtube and why, with nuance and distinction for each of the accounts I run. I had, again shockingly, clear boundaries around what I wanted to post and where, how I wanted to connect with folks through these websites.

If I’m honest, that was truly what I was hoping for through this practice. Yes, I’m sure I was also hoping for some much more profound spiritual transformation, but I’ve come to find those are usually sneaky-ego projects anyway. The truth is, our phones, and social media are dangerous. They ruin lives and relationships. But very much like sex, they can also be connective and bring a new level of richness and beauty into our lives. Again like sex, it’s not that they are inherently bad in and of themselves, but they are dangerously easy to misuse, and that’s why it is so important to be mindful in how you want to use them. Yes, there may be times when it’s helpful to abstain, but most of us aren’t called to celibacy, either from our phones, social media, or sex. What is most helpful and valuable is not trying to cut them out completely, but to find clarity in how we want to use them, and intentionally create a framework and ethic around using them that allow them to be the beautiful, connective, and enriching experiences we want them to be.