Your Feed Manipulates You

There's a million things to try and only a lifetime to get it all done.

Skills to nurture.

Crafts to jump into.

And like Socrates said: decades to explore the strength and beauty of which you are capable -not just in body, but in creative expression too.

But there's trouble.

The more we play in the sun and explore all that life has to offer, the more we burn.

You're stretched thin.

Mortal, limited and with life's responsibilities weaved in.

It's impossible to cut ties with our obligations and chase a life of self-gratification, as we follow all the hobbies we dream of.

Besides, it gets lonely.

I tasted this dreamland in my early college days, where the workload was light and the time limitless.

But a few years later, my gullible self got the kick up the ass I’m sure you already know too well:

Life gets harder.

We can't do everything.

Unless you're a rich Emirati, a well-to-do Florida boomer, or have a cosy estate in Surrey . . . you lack time, money or freedom.

But your creative side never dies for good.

Even when life gets busy and your calendar makes you bite your nails, the fire inside never sleeps.

It smoulders, breathing long deep bellows, and waits to roar into life again, and will do so once you give it space.

So how can you feed this passion?

There's a hundred time-management tips I could blabber about, but that's boring.

You have already heard the lot of it, and I'm no parrot.

Instead, let's borrow a page out of the Stoic playbook.

What if instead of finding ways to do more, we chose to be happy with less?

Follow this train of thought, and the final station asks you a question you may never have dared to wonder.

Where does this desire to do everything come from in the first place?

Where's the root of your pain, and how can you dig it out?

Sure, you can fight the urge from the top-down:

Cram your calendar.

Say no to friends and family.

Chase new avenues endlessly.

But will you last? 

It's the same question juggled in sociology classrooms.

For example, do you arrest gang members to clean up the streets? Maybe. But the peace never lasts.

One gang falls, and another takes its place. Again and again and again.

So instead of fighting the symptom, you find the heart of the problem.

Is it the lack of opportunity? Misdirected masculine energy? Some other mysterious cause? 

The roots are hard to find, but it's better than playing whack-a-mole with the consequences.

I'm quick to ramble in these emails, so we'll look at only one source of this desire to do everything.

It's sinister because it's right under your nose.

And even worse, it reveals itself to you like a friend.

Your phone.

What? My phone is my worst enemy . . . 

Yeah, mine too. 

We all know scrolling is bad, but I’m not talking about the distraction itself. The content you scroll through is where the danger lies.

More specifically, I mean your feed -the posts you scroll through on Instagram, YouTube, X, whatever.

The feed which I bet is crammed with your interests, and everything beyond.

There’s good-looking guys and girls who share their best fashion advice.

There’s artists who tame their pencil to produce the most stunning pieces you have ever seen.

There’s athletes with physiques carved out of marble, and all the prowess to prove their work.

I’m pulling from what I see on mine, but there's thousands more.

This still feels innocent, so where does the trouble lie?

Before I started my channel, all of my hobbies were casual, done at the whim of my own desires.

Cool.

But I wanted more. 

I wanted to be good enough to show them all off, and so well-rounded I could match Da Vinci in a discussion.

This mindset was built on a sandcastle of insecurity, but that’s besides the point for now.

I’d lie down, scroll, and with each new craft that popped up, I’d save it for later -a personal side quest to chase, yet another sink for my time.

‘Cool cocktail -I should get into that.’

Saved.

‘Hill sprints? Torture to my body, a kiss to my self-esteem.’

Saved.

‘HAM radio?? Didn’t know that existed until now, but it looks fun.’

Saved.

And the fruitless cycle repeats.

Like a droid, I grew my saved posts list until it got exhausting to look at.

Most of these new hobbies died in that list. They never saw the light of day again, because how could they? 

Some of them did come to life, but it was rare they took hold.

I bought watercolour gear on an impulse, painted a boat and never touched them since.

I’ve annoyed those around me with the idea to ferment mead for probably a year now. Yeah… that’s not happening.

And those hill sprints were good for a while, but they too faded into irrelevance.

The odd hobby found its footing and grew into something permanent, but most withered away far from the tree they landed.

That’s the way it is.

24 hours will remain 24 hours, no matter how deluded optimistic I grew.

But I’m being too harsh.

You live through the same story, and it’s no sin to love the world and all the callings it has to offer.

Trying new skills is great too. The last thing I want you to think is that I denounce this source of motivation.

Just be careful when you scroll.

Every video you see is the end result of years- even decades -of struggle and strife.

You see the polished ‘display version’ of their hobby, and none of the work behind it.

You read these words on the screen, but never picture the typing on the bus, the late-night editing and the graveyard of deleted words.

When a 30-second clip fills you with a warm wave of motivation, it’s easy to forget this reality and chase the mirage.

It’s great fun to buy the tools, look up your first tutorial and take the baby steps.

But it doesn’t last.

Soon it starts to feel like work. 

Sticky problems pop up like gnats in the summer, at every skill level.

The beginner’s high wears off and now you’re faced with a question:

Is this really for me? Does this desire come from me . . . or my feed?

Scroll to your heart's content.

You’ll find plenty of creativity to be inspired by, but be careful on the way.

Discover new avenues, learn from dead ends.

And use the energy of other people's creativity to fuel your own.

All I ask is that you know where these feelings come from.

Yours,

Odysseas