The Cost of Looking Away

Maybe it is an unwillingness to be fully present?

Since my activity level has been suppressed, I have been in my head more than usual. Granted, this internal dialogue is continuous, shaped primarily by what is going on with my family and friends. But as I was conversing with the voice in my head, I realized I was no longer zeroed in on a singular M.O.

"What do I DO?"

Today, tomorrow, or next year. When we want something, it is directed at the future. But what wafted up from somewhere in my heart was a question:

"Where am I abandoning this moment?"

I believed purpose is an important reason for life itself. To fulfill a purpose by being of service to another was, honestly, how I had defined my worth in life. I thought that when grieving was complete – and when I healed enough, learned enough, built enough, or became enough - eventually I'd arrive into a new echelon where being in service to others once again validated my aliveness.

While laid up for several months, there are long moments of reflection, and I resurrected storms from the past. Then I recalled coping methods from back in the day: mostly caffeine & alcohol, compulsive eating, isolation. And more recently: scrolling.

Mulling this over one day, while situating myself with a fresh cold pak on my leg, Spirit whispered, "But who are you when you are not doing for another?". My stomach lurched at the question.

This wasn’t the first time I started over again. But this time, indignation rang louder than before.

Silenced and Isolated - the Invitation

To add fuel to the pity party bonfire, social media simultaneously silenced me – eradicating all identifiable verification methods from their platforms. Impossible to appeal through their squirrely links and chatbots, the time and resources required to prove their mistake was beyond my means.

Admittedly, the draw to scroll was pervasive. I reached for my phone many times each day – in waiting rooms, checkout lines, while brewing coffee, etc. If asked, I would have insisted that I was checking on my family & friends, searching area events, helping with referrals for services, or exploring outdoor enthusiast groups.

I resented being dismissed, devalued, and felt isolated as I was in the dark about the people, places, and events that mattered to me. The victimized version yelling in my head: It is not fair! I didn’t deserve this! I am a good person and I didn’t do anything wrong. The responsible party betrayed me and blames me! Again. I rubbed my forehead recognizing the pattern, but it was still unclear.

This blog is actually brought to you by a dear friend with whom I stayed for a week during recovery. She’d held space while I complained about things I couldn’t do and, jokingly, she asked, “you just want the keys to your bulldozer back, don’t you?”

Ugh, I had to admit, yes I did. The writing was on the wall. Physically and mentally, I was high-centered. No productivity. No building, remodeling, or fixing. In-person sessions had been halted. No creating, planning, or strategizing. And FEAR was the emotion that had resurfaced: If I am not productive, I will disappear.

So when the I found that space inside me where “doing is worthiness” resided and asked who am I if I am not doing for others to validate my worth, tears of truth welled up.

Focusing further inward, frustrated by the isolation, allowed me to find the root of a buried trauma.

The epiphany

The unplanned social media detox forced me to direct attention elsewhere. At first, it was really difficult. Anger about being restricted fed more into the vein of “what I cannot do”.

Then the wafting up of another whisper:

“Mindfully, intensify focus on being present, in my body, in each now moment”

Followed by:

“Attention is spiritual currency”

That phrase has lingered in my brain ever since and now, every notification, every scroll, every comparison, every rabbit hole, and every impromptu search is valued differently.

Because each act spends my precious currency. Where your attention goes, your energy flows has been repeated time and again. I admitted that I had been careless.

No, technology is not inherently evil, but it offers a convenient and irresistible escape from the one place transformation actually occurs. And that place is here. Now. And if I were to reserve my energy – to bypass the temptation to click on a hook – I pondered how much more energy would be available for fortifying the body, mind, and spirit?

Phones are portals

What do you call a doorway or a gateway that can transport you to anywhere other than the present moment?

A portal.

One of my mentors joked about the early days of Instagram, when people simply posted photos of their new shoes with a cute filter. Today, many people log in and immediately feel anxious, inadequate, behind, or somehow incomplete. And now, it’s hard to know if the post is something that actually came from a human organically or is it an AI word-salad autonomously created in order for the creator to stay relevant so they can get clicks?

Social media works on our nervous system. Dopamine hits and our own insecurities keep our attention. It has the effect of conveying there is a thing we lack or some insight of which we need. Mental health specialists have published astonishing findings on the detrimental effects of social media pertaining to the wellbeing of people. The overwhelming sentiment being they feel inadequate, unlikeable, or unworthy. An endless array of creators implying we should look different. Earn more. Heal faster. Have a better relationship. Exemplify our purpose. Be the “most spiritual”.

Yep, even spirituality can be another form of distraction. Searching for another teacher. Another sacred ritual. Another sign from the universe. Another frequency or meditation. Surfing testimonials and promises to find answers that seem elusive. And all of it is done in the hopes of finding a “better” identity.

Like Dorothy with her ruby red slippers, we are overlooking the Divine wisdom already living inside us.

Anxiety as an indicator

Joe Hudson often says anxiety is one of our greatest teachers: it isn't proof that something is wrong, but it's a road sign that points to where we're abandoning ourselves.

The same may be true of distraction. Perhaps distraction isn't the problem. Perhaps it's revealing exactly what we don't yet want to feel.

What if the endless scrolling isn't because we're curious?

What if it's because stillness feels unfamiliar?

What if the constant search for purpose is actually helping us avoid living it?

Another lesson learned. When my body became incapacitated, I had no ability to validate my worthiness by “doing”.

Pure presence is subjective, and transformative

When you recall the big shifts in your life, are they colored with grief and uncertainty? Were you in it to the degree you felt you might disappear in the despair? Truthfully, every facet of our identity from prior years has evolved. Time and again there were days of floating in the liminal space of nothing; the space between – the void – all potentials.

Now when I log on, I remember: this moment is precious. And the next decision can convey my energy to something or someone else, or nurture and empower me.

What actually changed about my inquiries around purpose

With the absence of distraction, a quiet awareness has enveloped me. It is palpable. Assuring. Comforting. It can best be described as stabilizing and peaceful.

Purpose isn't something we eventually arrive at after enough healing.

Purpose is how we inhabit this very breath.

It's how we honestly meet what is here right this minute. It's how completely we allow ourselves to feel joy without grasping, grief without resisting, uncertainty without demanding immediate resolution.

If our attention truly is our spiritual currency, then perhaps the most sacred investment we can make is not another hour chasing someone else's life...

...but one uninterrupted moment fully inhabiting our own.

I see now that the life we've been searching for has been patiently waiting beneath the noise all along and that becoming whole isn't about finding more. It's about finally coming home to where we've been all along.

Maybe the deeper lesson in my own "in-between" season has been trying to teach me that “purpose” hasn’t been elusive. Presence was.

Contact

janice@revealalchemizeheal.com
903.821.6683