My Social Media Sabbatical – 40 Days without Twitter or Facebook

Beginning tomorrow (Ash Wednesday), I’ll be giving up Twitter and Facebook for forty days, or the period of Lent. I’m not Catholic, but I love the rhythm of the year that the Catholics (and Episcopalians) observe. I love the mental & spiritual exercise of Lent. I also love the concept of the Sabbath—even though I don’t do it well (I’m not Jewish, either).

The truth is, I’m completely addicted to Facebook. As a stay-at-home-mom half the time, and an isolated grad student the other half of the time, Facebook gives me an online community that I can access any time, anywhere, on my phone or computer. I love the instant gratification of it, the voyeurism of seeing what other people are doing, the narcissism of coming up with clever posts for my friends to read. I love the affirmation of the little red box that pops up to tell me I have a message, or that someone “likes” my status. I love it. LOVE it.

I also love Twitter, which I know not everyone enjoys, but I have built up a community of fellow academics and book lovers, and the links and comments and jokes they share make me feel like I’m not a lonely grad student, but part of a larger academic community. I’ve been nursing my baby since he was born in October, and when I’m sitting there in the dark, I check Twitter on my phone, and I feel connected.

So why give it up for a month? Because I find that I’ve been neglecting my real life. I find myself grabbing my phone when I should be listening to what my child has to tell me. Because I’m checking Facebook instead of doing my homework, which means I end up staying up way way way too late, which makes me grumpy. I want to unplug from my online community for just a little while,so I can  focus on the precious family right in front of me. And so I can get my stinkin’ homework done.

So you won’t see me on Twitter, or Facebook, except maybe possibly on Sundays. Why Sundays? Because traditionally, during Lent, Sundays are not fast days. That’s why there are 46 days between Ash Wednesday and Easter Sunday – because Sundays aren’t for fasting. (Interesting, isn’t it? Not sure if I agree with it completely, but it is nice to know this tradition has a built-in “safety valve.”)

So where will you see me? Well, aside from my temptation to write Tweets on index cards and drop them on the ground in public places, or run into coffee shops and shout my status updates, you won’t see me on Facebook* or Twitter.

I will be blogging right here, probably more than usual, about this sabbatical and other things.

*My blog automatically posts to Facebook, so my Facebook friends may see links to updates there. Otherwise, you might want to sign up for the RSS feed here, if you want to follow along. I will also be staying out of my RSS reader, which can be a huge time suck. I will be checking email, and using my phone. My goal with this media fast is not to eschew all electronics, but to be present. Twitter and Facebook and my blog roll take me out of the present. I want to be present for my children, my husband, and my self. I’ll also be praying more (that’s sort of the point of Lent) and, hopefully, running more (more than “none,” that is).

I may participate in the Wednesday night First Year Composition chat (#FYCchat) on Twitter. I haven’t decided about that. It’s one hour per week, and it makes a big difference in my work to get tips from everyone there. I’ll also still read my husband’s blogs, The Highest Standard and Run Gianni Run (although I have links that go directly to these, so that I won’t be tempted by my RSS reader to fall down the crafting blog rabbit hole). I may try to get caught up with Reading Through the Great Books – that might be what I read during those late-night feedings. All this to say: I’m not cutting out everything, and my media fast might not look like yours, but this is what I’m going to do.

It’s not because I think Facebook or Twitter are bad – on the contrary, I really, really like them, and defend them often. I just need to be present, to be where I am, so to speak, both mentally and physically. If you need to talk to me, you can probably find me. (And if you Direct Message me in Twitter, I’ll get it via email).

Say a prayer for me: this is going to be way harder than the year I gave up drinking soda.