Redefining the "Self"

Noon to 230pm, Mondays through Fridays. That’s when I allow the outside world to perturb my silence. All other times my phone is off. Unless it’s an emergency.

I was born in the 80s but I’m a 90s child, and I’m very thankful for that. To be alive during a time of being only reachable by a landline, and that’s only if I was home. If not, come find me or wait til I’m home. Or just wait til you see me the next day. I’m fortunate for being part of that era because if I hadn’t I don’t think I would have been able to see the value in it, or distinguish my mindset from before and after social media and the smartphone. Young people now don’t even know what it’s like to be out of contact with other human beings. It’s just built in from their origins.

I consider my life being comprised of three major BEST decisions I’ve ever made. The first was joining the Marine Corps. The second was beginning to study martial arts. The third, was moving to NYC and living there for eleven years. But now I have started the first best MINOR decision I have ever made and that is powering off my cell phone and getting a landline. I used to tease my ex-girlfriend for having one. But bustling NYC life made me forget its value. Now I can at least be reached in emergencies when I’m home. Or I can at least dial 911 without having to wait for my phone to power up. But if you want to talk to me, call me. It’s glorious.

But something else strange has begun to happen since my powering down and digitally disconnecting: clarity through silence. Ryan Holiday calls it “stillness” in his book Stillness is the Key. Before, when I discovered writing as a way for me to disconnect, it brought me a focus that I fell in love with. A tunnel of concentration on one thing that tuned out everything else in my life. But what about when I am not writing?

Now, it seems this stillness has been there all along. It’s not a new thing attained but simply an absence of all the other bullshit that reveals the beautiful sound of silence.

Each morning I kneel on my couch and face the windows to take in the view and slowly wake up. Sometimes I do a breathing exercise I learned years ago to elevate the oxygen levels in my blood before a big climb up to fourteen thousand feet. As a by-product it calms my mind and then I go straight into meditation. Then I’ll read some of a book and then go write.

The other day I started and read an entire book in one day. Granted, it was Viktor Frankl’s Man’s Search for Meaning, which was probably my third time reading it, and it’s not a very long read. But it took hours, and those were hours of quality thought and reflection, lacking notifications and scrolling and texting. Hours of worthy living that contributes to my mind’s well-being.

But this has led me to even another thing I didn’t see coming. I notice myself sitting and thinking or just “being” more often than I used to. I used to fill my time with music or podcasts, whether it was making breakfast, working out, or driving. But I have not had the urge. Actually, that is somewhat of a lie. I have had the urge because it’s an old habit, but my newfound addiction to silence overpowers it. It’s like I have a slight phobia of losing the calm I have discovered there all along.

I drive to work at 1230pm listening to music. I give myself that, only because my phone is on and I can connect my Bluetooth. Plus, it gets me motivated for the work day. But driving home at 10pm, it’s silence. Perfect to wind down to. When I work out: silence. When I make and eat breakfast: silence.

I was called a “hermit” the other day by someone when I said I had begun turning my phone off and had gotten a landline. It was likely half in jest, but it made me realize that I was misunderstood. I am the opposite of that. I want to have real human connection, with a person in front of my face. I want to live in a real-world context and not a digital one like I stated in my previous blog.

This is an attempt for me to get back to NOT being a digital hermit, living and communicating behind a screen in a world that only exists in my mind. This is me attempting to cultivate the relationship I have with myself first and then share that in a meaningful way with other people. This is an attempt to use my mind and brain as a tool at the whim of my will and not the other way around.

This is mind management.

This is me redefining myself.

I recently read an idea that struck a chord. Much like we go on diets and take care for what we allow into our body, we should do the same for our mind. If we eat shitty calories and junk food, our bodies will reflect that. If we eat healthy foods, our bodies will feel better, and look better.

The same goes for our minds. The quality of what we let in will be reflected in the quality of our minds. I’m on an input diet. Only the good stuff. The organic homegrown shit. The high antioxidant thoughts and ideas with the grass-fed filet mignon of information. Or introspection. It’s all there already if you just cut out the junk.

I began doing one other thing too. It started happening automatically, which I noticed, and then I liked it, so I began consciously trying to do it more: being very intentional with every action. It started one morning when I was filling my coffee press. I was noticing each movement, precision focused with a still mind. Insert the spoon for one heaping spoonful. Drop into the press. Hear the coffee grinds hit the container bottom. Repeat. Pour the water into the cup, gurgling, then from there into the press, accompanied by bird chirps outside, then wind creaking the windowpanes.

Ambient sound, man. It’s there if you listen. It’s slow. It’s smooth, and smooth is fast. It was me being present, and I noticed a smirk forming on my face.

Almost three years ago I began a transformation, though I didn’t realize it at the time. Shortly after the pandemic hit, my little empire I called my world crumbled. My greatest art had been destroyed. That art was the life I created. An incredibly meaningful career at a gym I loved and help build. With a network of people and friends who inspired me and lifted me up, even if they didn’t know it. A best friend whom I loved and lived with and enjoyed a life with, and our cat, Floki (He felt like our child because of how much we loved him and the joy he brought us) all in our gorgeous NYC apartment in Greenwich Village.

I was a different guy then. Not a bad one. Just different. Now three years later and after what I have called “reinventing” myself, that life is a distant memory. And I am a new person. Back in the mountains. New career, new home, new degree, and new path. And a continual new me.

It’s never too late to be better, or to change your life. Or yourself. My mother always told me you have to create the life you want. I did that before, and I am doing it again. It’s not too late to become the person you want to be. It never is. But it’s a whole lot harder when you’ve never even thought about it. Take some time to yourself, without your phone or music or tv. Just sit there. Find your silence. You might notice something important.

Food for thought:

Have you ever tried turning your phone off for an extending period of time and seeing how you feel?

Have you consciously created your life, or did it just fall into place?

Do you mindlessly do things, or are you mindful for each little movement?

Have you ever just sat and listened to music as what you are doing and not just as a soundtrack to whatever it is you are really doing?