murder is fine but god forbid a woman dance in a church

I'm Back! Returning to the "Real World" After Six Weeks Unplugged and Undrugged

If I'm being honest, I don't really want to write this post. I don't want to go back to the way things were. It feels like returning from vacation on a Sunday evening and setting my work alarm for Monday morning. I know my next vacation won't come for a while. I know I'm "back in it" now. And the sensation is completely opposite of what I'd expected from all of the "restrictions" I put on myself six weeks ago. But I'm sure you're just dying to know how I did, so here goes.

I failed. A lot. Just like I said I would. And the number one thing I failed at was reading to my kids. I tried it. Once. I started Harry Potter, but it felt like pulling teeth. I didn't enjoy it. The kids didn't enjoy it (even though I poured all of my energy into the BEST character voices). But even if I didn't read to my children, at least I didn't fail completely at reading. In fact, I stayed pretty true to my goal of replacing my weeknight TV with reading (with a subtle exception… but I'll get to that later), and it was honestly one of the biggest successes of all. Just an hour or two of quiet entertainment and contemplation in the evenings (whether with a Bible devotional or a bloody space adventure) did wonders for my mood and sleep habits. And speaking of sleep habits…

I failed at that, too. Again, not completely, but I definitely didn't live up to the whole bargain. I don't care how comfortable I got with going to bed at 9:45 pm and waking up at 5:45 am, when I would get home from work at 9:15 at night, there was no way I was going to have time to eat, shower, and wind down enough to be asleep within thirty minutes. And so, I bent the rules a little. But never more than an hour. And that's where I found my rhythm. I would never go to bed or wake up more than an hour different than I did the day before. That compromise allowed me to adjust slowly to different schedules without suffering too much.

Interestingly enough, the things I succeeded at completely are the things that sound like the biggest commitments. I worked out every day without fail, I didn't get on social media or YouTube, and I cut out all drugs (aka alcohol, tobacco, caffeine, night time snacking, and weekday fast food) cold turkey, right down to my morning pre-workout drink, which has a little caffeine in it. I'm not sure exactly why these things were easier to stick to. I'm sure a part of it has to do with my particular personality, but I suspect the bigger part is the nature of these things. They're easier to define. Easier to grasp and control. So what's the big deal about sleeping in a few extra minutes on the weekends (half-asleep rationale is always a little bit skewed…)? Why should I fight to read to my kids if they don't even enjoy it? But exercise and diet are very external. They're obvious to myself and to others when I screw them up. There's more accountability, so they're not as easy to make excuses for. The hardest promises to keep are the ones nobody knows about.

And… there's a third factor, and I hinted at it earlier. Remember when I said I didn't TECHINCALLY stick to the "no TV during the week" goal? Well, I didn't "watch" TV during the week, per se. But that's because I was playing a video game. A video game called "The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild." And, well, I was completely unprepared for it. First, Zelda is my jam. Always has been since I was a wee lad. Like most functioning adults, I fell away from video games after high school because I was trying to make all the monies and didn't have time to spend six hours at a time in front of a screen. But when Santa brought us a Nintendo Switch for Christmas, I knew there was a game I "had" to try. And, well, BotW didn't disappoint. Those who have played Skyrim or other open-world games would have known what they were in for, but I didn't. 

The moment I popped open that glider and drifted off of the Great Plateau, the real world faded away. This game had no limits. No boundaries. It's impossible to describe my awe at that slow and continuing realization as I delved into underground temples, climbed distant peaks, and trudged through vast deserts, so I won't try. Those who think video games are "a waste of time" will never get it, and those who embrace the value of story telling already know what I'm talking about. Suffice it to say that I "did the Zelda things." Not all the things, mind you. I didn't find all the koroks, beat all the shrines, or kill all the lynels, but I DID awaken the Divine Beasts, sneak into the castle dungeon to claim the Hylian shield, tame the royal mare, ride all the animals, build Tarry Town from the ground up, and head butt a guardian to death with the Lord of the Mountain. I trudged through every region and stared out at the realm from the highest spire of Hyrule castle. In the end, I defeated Calamity Ganon and brought peace to the land. And in that triumphant moment, I finally realized the truth about the game…

It was just another drug. You see, I never did have a real urge to sit down to a whiskey and a pile of snacks on a Saturday night, even though that had become an engrained habit over the past year. Why? Because I had an entire world to explore and save! And I needed to stay hydrated and healthy to beat the biggest baddies in Hyrule. The game completely overshadowed other primal urges. Any time I was feeling lazy or weak—times when I would look for a quick, mindless reward—I would pick up the Switch controller. And sometimes, that would be during the week. In fact, all told, I played 110 hours over six weeks. That's around two-and-a-half hours a day, EVERY day! So the amount of time I would have generally wasted with social media, TV, or "drugs," I instead committed to Zelda.

In the end, I'm not sure what to think about the whole six-week experience. I do know that I grew closer to God. My thoughts cleared significantly. I experienced deeper and wider peace, seeing previously scary and stressful situations with new clarity and confidence. I loved my family more completely, and I committed harder to my duties (work, family, etc). But I had low moments, too. Not enough to hit rock bottom or consider giving up, but because I knew what it felt like to ride that "high" with my savior and creator, to be present in the moment with a sense of purpose and appreciation, every moment of minor disconnection or apathy hit me harder than it normally would have. So I guess everything is relative. Once we know just how good we can feel, our expectations rise. On the other hand, my perspective has changed regarding rewards and fulfillment. A moment of earned relaxation or celebration doesn't need to include a glass of wine. I don't "need" to stay up late and sleep in on the weekends. And most importantly, my joy comes from God, not from the things I do, but there ARE some things that keep me away from God's joy. Mostly things that become habit—things I fall back on when I want to "check out."

And I guess that's the whole point. When we're present and intentional, life's good. We're happy with our choices and usually with the results. But when we're exhausted, when we've given all we can and think we've earned some reward (or at least a break)… well, that's when we make mistakes. And that's when we should just go to bed. Sure, maybe a little reading to calm us down and get our minds right first, but we're never at our worst than when we're mentally tapped out. And so, I plan to be more aware of this fact through the rest of the year. I'm going to continue to cut out electronics during the week. I'm going to avoid the Facebook scroll (which doesn't appeal to me even a little bit anymore). I'm going to enjoy sunrises and cuddles. And, most importantly, I'm going to create the time and space for quiet thought and divine whispers.

That's my secret to happiness. Do less (especially less "check out" activities like Twitter and television) and think more. Talk less and listen more. Let your "yes" be "yes" and your "no" be "no." In other words, live a life that speaks for itself and don't feel the need to justify your thoughts and actions to everyone. Live lightly, love deeply, and let the rest wash away with the tide. That's all I've got, friends. And you know what? This post was actually a joy to write. I'm excited to be back, to see my friends again, to share what I've learned with you, and to learn FROM you. And most importantly, I’m excited to enjoy all the beauty that the real world has to offer...