I Think I Have Screen Trauma.
"Do you feel a pinch of sadness when people glance at their phones when you’re having a conversation with them?"
I wonder how many of us are suffering from screen trauma.
Do you feel a pinch of sadness when people glance at their phones when you’re having a conversation with them?
Are you triggered by people’s constant reliance on their phones for instant answers or information?
Are you perplexed when you sit in a cafe, observing how many people are staring into a screen or scrolling on their phones?
Are you worried about our increasing dependency on technology and how it has infiltrated our schools, workplaces, and homes at such an alarming rate?
If you answered yes to just one of these questions, you might be dealing with a bit of screen trauma. Personally, I answered yes to all of them.
People get frustrated with me, too. Why can’t I just relax?
I’ve had to stop asking questions like, “What are you looking at?” when a family member is absorbed with something on his phone. I’ve had to zip my lips instead of prompting someone to turn off their notifications after work or put away their phone at the dinner table.
I hardly have the tolerance to scroll my phone for longer than 5 minutes. As a writer who shares her words on the internet, it’s a constant struggle for me to sit down in front of a computer and do my creative work.
I’m not proud of my hypersensitivity to the presence of screens and my own and others’ screen time. I feel controlling and difficult.
So rather than say anything, I’ve thought about quietly donating a notebook and pen to every student in my kids’ middle school, and starting an after-school journaling or handwriting club. Sadly, about 95% of their work is done on the computer. In Math class, they’re required to use a glitchy stylus on their laptop. They complete science projects by themselves on a screen. They craft stories and essays only with a keyboard.
They’re never given the option to write by hand or show their math work on a piece of paper or do a science experiment with friends.
Meanwhile, I’m over here reveling in the rare feeling I get when I forget about my phone, misplace it somewhere, and I’ve been so engrossed with the tasks in front of me to care about where it is.
I also feel giddy when I catch a glimpse of two people sitting at a table together, not a screen in sight, completely immersed in conversation. Or even better, a person perched alone at the coffee shop, perhaps eating, reading a book, writing in a notebook, or staring into space without a phone to keep them company.
These moments feel intimate. Should I look away?
Some argue the next stage in human evolution is techno homo sapiens. Humans who’ve integrated so deeply with their technology that they’ve become one. Although there’s still much debate about this idea, it seems to me that if we don’t actively practice being human, our screens will become fused to our bodies, if they haven’t already.
Are these shiny, glowing rectangles a source of trauma for me, or is there something else at the root of my pain? A longing perhaps.
To be seen and acknowledged.
For meaningful presence and soul-deep connection.
To be interesting and worthy of care and attention.
For eye contact and camaraderie.
To be fascinated with and rooted in the complexity of our fleshy, bodily experience.
Aren’t these collective longings we all hold within ourselves from birth?
It makes me wonder what unnecessary trauma we might be inflicting on one another and ourselves when we reach so seamlessly for the phone in our pocket before we look up in wonder at the world and the faces around us.
I’m not saying any of this to make us feel guilty for the things that must be done on a screen— that will never bring about change. Screens are a part of our lives, and as many people like to remind me, they are here to stay.
I hate that this even has to be a discussion, a concern, an issue. I hate that I have to care about it at all. I hate that setting boundaries with our screen time feels like fighting an uphill battle.
But here we are.
I can’t stop thinking about how our dependency on screens in every facet of our lives is draining our energy, focus, and joy.
What do we do? Here’s what’s working for me: Five Minute Portals to Fall in Love With Being Alive Again. I’ll also pass along an incredible piece from a fellow poet and writer, Gideon Heugh, this week: 12 Tools for Reversing Brain Rot.
What do you do?
PS: Did you see this post yesterday, I sense an unfamiliar desperation in my soul, an invitation to come, to find love, abundance, and peace beyond what I’ve ever dared to imagine…maybe you do too?