Remembering How to Live

I received a notification today. It was titled “Screen Time.” Apparently I spent forty hours on my phone last week. That’s enough to equal a full-time job. If I’m being honest, maybe ten of those hours were work-related. The rest? Mindless scrolling.

My body hurts, and my nervous system feels like it’s been through a blender. TikTok, Instagram - any app that rewards me with a quick hit of dopamine - has become my escape. It’s easier to numb out than to sit with how I actually feel in my body.

Lately, I’ve forgotten how to look for the love in everyday moments. It still glimmers here and there - soft and persistent, begging to be noticed - but my eyes have been glued to a screen.

I’ve driven more than I’ve explored on my feet. I’ve taken in the fall colours only from behind a windshield, on the way to shoots I’ve been contracted for, and not for the simple joy of watching the world turn gold.

And honestly? I miss admiration. I miss wonder. I miss whimsy. I miss love.

All the things that used to fill me up have been sitting quietly in the corner, collecting dust.

Next week, I’m making it my mission to put down my phone. To tune in - to my body, my surroundings, and to the kind of silence that invites real thoughts, not algorithmic ones.

I want to feel life again.

Because I’ve forgotten how to live… but I’m ready to remember.