I turned off my phone on Wednesday, Nov 26th and left it off and in the drawer of my bedside table until Monday, Dec 1st. This was a deliberate and sadly difficult choice to make. Difficult, because like many, I often consider my phone as a detachable appendage. A part of my body, at least that is what my brain chemistry and habits would tell you. This is something I actively try to resist and break down as often as I can.
I sent out messages to family and friends wishing them happy and safe travels for the holiday and that I would be phone-less till December. Over all it was a wonderful five day detox.
When I turned my phone back on and checked the emails, I saw that a horde of barbarians in the form of ads and deals had invaded an otherwise peaceful area of the digital realm. I took to the battlefield, axe in hand and laid waste to the enemy. I then sat by a crackling fireplace and wrote this reflection.
The onslaught began at 4 AM,
subject lines screaming salvation
it said redemption if ordered real soon
would be delivered Prime-shipped, on your porch by noon.
There’s a liturgy to it, you know—
the dopamine trigger of LAST CHANCE and BOGO,
the countdowns, the clock,
the altar call of LIMITED STOCK.
We wake before dawn for doorbuster deals,
Forgetting the King, exchanging our zeal
For a coupon, a voucher, a place in the line
Stampeding our neighbors to scream that is mine
The temple of Target had opened it doors
The cathedral of Amazon from which our blessings pour.
I confess: I have worshiped here too.
I have stood in the line and the digital queue.
Refreshing, refreshing, a prayer of acquisition
a mantra of maybe this will be sufficient.
The cart icon glows like the saints hallowed faces
my algorithm brought me to these dark places.
Where ad copy, reels and influencers smile
Leads the dark liturgy right down the aisle.
To the altar on which our soul is consumed
The King won’t come in if I’ve left him no room.
But I got all my wants right here at the door
I ordered them quickly and still I want more
The things, oh the things so lovely and new
Am I more than an ape in this consumerist zoo?
We ought not to think this deal is so grand
When we are separated from others, ourselves and the land
In this dystopian world full of things I must own
It is best not to forget who sits on the Throne.