Falling out of algo-rhythm
When life stings, do you scroll or seek?
I’ve learned a lot by attending girls’ summer camp.
Well, my wife attends as a worker. I’m just an observer, but not in a weird way. You get the point.
If there’s one insight I’ve gained from watching my wife lead hundreds of girls it’s this:
We become like the people who meet us in our pain.
During one week of camp, I heard a violent scream coming from the rec field a quarter mile from our apartment. It was so brutal that I froze in my tracks. What could possibly be going this wrong on a field full of paint, laughter, and pool noodles? Then I saw a little girl sprinting and a few girls chasing her.
The girl was stung by a bee. She reacted by running and screaming, and frantic energy spread as a few other girls chased after her. But when some counselors caught up to the chaos, they were calm and curious. They brought comfort and asked questions. They helped to stabilize the girl’s emotions so she could stay calm and camp on.
When we experience pain, we look for help. And who we look to often determines how we’ll respond. Reactions beget reactions.
How we respond to the stings of adulthood
As we grow up, life’s stings become less of a physical reality and more of an inner prick. Sure, we get sore and sick and old. But we get fewer boo-boos. Part of adulting is learning how to navigate the more subtle types of pain — the pains we carry in our bodies rather than on them: loneliness, worry, and insecurities.
We all have coping mechanisms for these subtle pains. Some are healthy. They help us regulate our emotions and embrace reality. Running does this for me. Some coping tactics aren’t healthy. They’re the ones that keep us out of reality and off rhythm, like eating a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Americone Dream.
Over the last two decades, humans have created a new coping strategy to deal with our subtle pains: scrolling on social media.
When we get slightly uncomfortable, bored, or restless, it’s easy to turn to social media. But that’s not where we’ll find the calming counselors we need. That’s where we’ll find an algorithm.
Life sometimes stings us with anxiety, loneliness, or FOMO. Your algorithm won’t focus on stabilizing you. It’ll serve you content you’re most likely to engage with and react to. You’ll probably get entertainment before you get empowerment. Social media makes it easy to spiral when you're stung. This is what I call falling out of algo-rhythm.
Your algorithm is heartless
Your algorithm doesn’t care about you because it can’t. It doesn’t have the capacity for emotional intelligence. It can’t navigate nuances. It can’t empathize with your pain, stepping in like a camp counselor to model a calming presence. It doesn’t care about anything other than accomplishing its one goal: to imprison your attention.
“Is it really that big of a deal that I open Instagram whenever I’m bored?”
Yes — because you’re building a habit that shapes who you’re becoming.
I don’t have Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter. But I know I’m in an unhealthy place when I open Strava or Goodreads with no conscious agenda. I’m usually just uncomfortable and want to scroll and scoop up some easy dopamine like Sonic snagging coins on a racetrack. The dopamine reward increases my chances of making the same decision the next time I’m uncomfortable, bulking my doomscrolling muscles and atrophying my resilient ones.
Where we set our attention is the most powerful ongoing decision we get to make. This is especially true when we’re in pain. If we make a beeline for social media every time we feel slight discomfort, we’ll build a co-dependant relationship with an inhuman presence that has its own agenda.
To get what you truly need in a moment of pain, you have to be proactive with your attention. You have to place it on people and practices that offer hope and healing.
Counselors vs. algorithms
Life stings us often. How we decide to react to those stings shapes us. The person who turns to alcohol every time they get discouraged doesn’t become a stable person. They become an alcoholic. The person who turns to social media every time they feel lonely becomes a doom-scroller.
If we become what we turn to in our pain, then we need to seek out more counselors and fewer algorithms.
Counselors are the people and practices that help you regulate your emotions. They help me stay in rhythm with my version of the good life. Here are some of my counselors.
From scrolling to stabilized
I recently met up with my mentor at a dive bar in Atlanta. He was running late, so I snagged a booth for us, wearing my backpack since I’m paranoid about car break-ins. The bar was packed, and I was the only person sitting by myself. I spent the first few minutes on my phone, scrolling through my email, Strava, and Goodreads. Nothing was that interesting, and that was OK. I just wanted to waste time and not look like a loser in the process. But my phone failed me. I still felt bored and embarrassed about being the only person by myself. I eventually told myself this was an opportunity to address those insecurities rather than scroll through them. So I took out my notebook and started journaling. I felt better. So much better that I took out a book. I was probably the only reader that dive bar had seen in a decade. Just 15 minutes later, I felt more stabilized than I did when scrolling on my phone. Proactive attention had greater dividends than scrolling through social accounts.
When life stings, we get to choose how we respond: scroll or seek counsel. To scroll is to steal time away from the counselors we could be investing in. It’s casting a vote to build a habit with little to no returns. Scrolling prolongs your pain rather than helping you grow from it.
Your algorithm can’t see what you need. It’ll be more likely to match or exacerbate your reaction than offer a calming counter-reaction. It’ll keep you off-kilter, out of algo-rhythm.
But the counselors will offer you what you need. They won’t demand reactions or imprison your attention. They’ll be a balm to your stings. Because they just want to help you find your balance so you can stay calm and camp on.
✌️
— Luke
P.S. Here are some resources that can serve as great counselors:
Your local therapist: I encourage you to find an actual licensed therapist if any emotional pain persists in your life.
How We Feel: If you’re going to scroll on your phone, start here. I use this app to help me name and track my emotions. It’s beautifully designed and fun to use.
Casper Glow Light: I use this self-dimming light as my alarm clock. It helps me keep my phone out of my night routine so I can sleep better.
Lectio 365: I’m a fan of this daily devotional app that helps you pray through the Bible with 10-minute readings + audio recordings.
Shoutout a “counselor” in your life!
P.P.S. I’m now giving paid subscribers a PDF of The Inquisiteer, my book of 303 icebreaker questions. Upgrade today to snag your copy. If you’re already a paid subscriber and don’t have a copy, reply to this email so I can change that.
Luke what a beautiful piece. Reminded me of Isaiahs description of God, “As a mother consoles her child, I will console you” from Chapter 66. Your formatting, imagines, headings, and tone all made this flow masterfully. Looking forward to continuing to read you.
LUKE! I absolutely loved this. Your metaphor of the kind camp counselors, personified as your roster of people and practices that bring you back to center are such a powerful vibe. I can imagine myself saying during a moment of dis-ease “ok Erin, who are your counselors right now? What would they say?” I especially liked your story about the bar and the contrast of how it felt to be on your phone vs the journal and reading. ✌️🏕️