Dipping a toe into the void

and finding ways to cultivate energy this January.

Despite promising myself that nothing had to change in this new month of this new year, that resolutions were too much, that rocking the boat was off limits, I find myself seeking change. Little shifts in my routine to bolster my energy levels, so January can feel good, not just long.

For a while, I’ve wanted to spend less time scrolling mindlessly. I never feel better for it, only tired, inferior or overwhelmed with useless information. I love seeing updates from friends, or being sent memes that speak to the ridiculousness of life as an adult. But it’s hard to pick and choose. Jumping onto Instagram to engage meaningfully with friends can easily turn into 30 minutes of rot.

Lately I’ve been swapping the time I would usually spend scrolling, with time on Substack reading essays by fellow writers. Long form content has long been shunned in favour of short snippets of this and that, but it makes me feel like I’m drowning, unable to focus on one thing or remember anything at all.

Reading one article in the morning while I drink my coffee gives my brain one thing to chew on, draw inspiration from, disagree with or share with others, until I start work, open my emails and face the inevitable onslaught of multitasking. I’m hoping that, by giving my brain less things to digest before the day even begins, I can preserve even the thinnest tendrils of energy, allowing myself a chance to get to the end of the day without feeling exhausted or overwhelmed.

As someone with Fibromyalgia, I am incredibly susceptible to being perpetually tired and forgetful. If this small change to my daily routine can help just a little bit, that will feel like a win. And achieving a win in January, the month most susceptible to misery? That will feel like an even bigger win.

One of the articles that has stuck with me the most so far is How to Take Your Nights Back by Andrew Perlot, who writes about opening a void in the evenings:

“No T.V., computers, or most other electronic devices. Phones are off or in airplane mode. No podcasts. No screens except monochrome E-ink reading devices without internet connections.”

Yikes. Reading about this approach made my stomach wobble. In January especially, in a country like the UK, where night begins not long after 4pm and everyone seems to be waiting for the sunshine to return in the spring, to remove the things we hold on to for joy and sanity five nights a week, really feels like poking the bear. The bear, in this case, being depression.

After my initial disgust, I began to ponder. Instead of TV or phones, Andrew recommends reading books or cooking dinner or exercise. Journaling, cleaning or high-quality (in person) socialising. Drawing, painting, or meditating. The void is supposed to be boring and uncomfortable at first, so that we are forced to figure out how to fill that time consciously.

I both love and hate this. For those of us who suffer with depression or seasonal affective disorder, or coping with grief or any of the other multitude of human afflictions, sometimes the only things we can hold on to are those we get from our phones.

Whether it’s podcasts, audiobooks, or comedy, or WhatsApp messages from friends about nothing in particular, because just knowing someone is on the other end of the phone for you is a comfort.

But as I look for ways to cultivate energy and creativity, to feel less overwhelmed on a regular basis, opening a void in the evenings now and then might be exactly what I need. Doing a physical activity, like building LEGO or reading a cookbook or, as I have begun, collating recipes from magazines into a binder, might allow me to feel much more present, without just staring down the barrel of those raw, unfiltered feelings that inevitably creep out when there are no distractions.

Even without sticking to the rules of the void as suggested by Andrew, creating more spaces to do something other than stare half-arsed at reams of useless information on our phones, while the TV plays something we are only kind of watching, should surely be a good thing?

Dipping a toe into the void might be consciously focusing on just one thing, whether listening to an audiobook while soaking in the bath, or giving a film or TV show your full focus. Perhaps then we can migrate to evenings listening to the radio while we paint or crochet or journal, or an hour wrapped up warm on the sofa reading a really good book.

And when summer rolls in with her warm hugs and long evenings, with her birdsong and bountiful offerings of vitamin D, maybe then we can switch off our electronics and sit outside after work, watching food cook on the barbecue, chatting to family or friends or the dog, or reading a really good book.

Happy January, dear friends. I hope yours treats you well.

Jess