I Can't Fucking Relax
And I bet you can't either
All I wanna do is look at my fucking phone. When I’m working, when I’m driving, when I’m playing with my angelic son, when I’m deep in a much needed catch up with a friend, I secretly want to be alone with my phone. In bed or on a toilet. Doesn’t matter. I want to scroll until I don’t know what time it could possibly be; I want to scroll until my eyes burn! Like I’m chopping old onions into a million pieces with a blunt blade! I want my phone to kill me!
I don’t want to scroll on my phone, but according to my behavior, it’s all I want. And nothing makes me feel worse or makes me question my character more than being sucked into a social media hole.
But look at this 4-million-dollar house in Beachwood canyon. What a view. Can you imagine? Oh hey! I have some new notifications and DMs! That reel was hilarious, Martin. And wow, Pia’s dinner party! Those dishes have to be expensive. What if I prepared a meal like that? Wearing that exact dress? Would I feel as good as it looks? What if I had that kind of skill, or time, or help.
Look at this happy group of friends out at night. I wish iiiiiiii could have a night out like that with my chic friends. CUT TO:
INTERIOR: RESTAURANT - NIGHT. I’m out with priceless friends, and still, I find myself fighting my incessant urge to pick up and stare at my fucking phone.
The influencers tell me to be present in a post from 14 hours ago. “If you’re seeing this, take a deep breath,” they say in a feminine font across someone else’s filtered footage of a stream. And I follow orders; I take a deep breath. And my shoulders fall for a second. It feels good. And it hits me that I haven’t taken a deep breath since the last time an influencer told me to.
My friend Eden is the best person to run errands with. The more boring the errand, the better. Last year we legally changed our surnames together; the DMV is Disneyland when you’re with Eden. The eternal line at the social security office with Eden? Forget it. Best day of your life.
She and I had plans to enjoy hot chocolate at my place on a Thursday. And something about the simpleness of the plan thrilled me. It was all I could think about; a moment I could slow down with a warm treat and warmer friend. I army crawled through the chaos of Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday dreaming about hot cocoa with Eden. But the “moment” I’d built up came and went before I could drink it in. Yes, we had cocoa in the kitchen while we danced with my baby (his new painfully adorable trick), but my mug was empty, and Eden was gone before I remembered to savor the moment. I was present only in time to rush through dishes and get Claude in the bath, stat! I wanted my Eden + cocoa moment back. I thought I’d be able to savor it, the way a moment in time is savored by a photograph. Although I enjoyed myself immensely with my son and friend, I never had a chance to hit pause the way I had imagined.
(here's a link to my favorite hot chocolate)
My husband recently produced a short film written and directed by our wildly impressive friend, Brian. And I was lucky enough to watch an early cut. I love when you can’t get a movie out of your head for days, and I can’t stop thinking about Brian’s short. It’s inspired me to sometimes stop what I’m doing and just… notice. For example, last week I was driving to an appointment in the middle of the day, my mind in a hamster wheel: If I get there a few minutes early I’ll have time to reply to so-and-so’s email before the appointment starts, and then when I get home- but Brian’s art penetrated the noise: Hey, the moon’s out in the middle of the day. I'm at a red light. Forget everything else and just… notice it. I took a breath, and my belly grew. I stared at the day-time half-moon, thoroughly noticing the way it salt-and-peppers into invisibility. I had successfully hit pause. It was my day’s greatest triumph.
A few nights later, I had a typical Alix dream. I was in Europe, running from some serial killers, when my friend texted me that she was out to lunch with my dad. I responded to the text: “That’s weird. He’s dead. But he’s at lunch with you? Should I stop by?” But I kept struggling to finish the text on my phone; I kept hitting all the wrong letters. The stress and frustration mounting, mounting. And then, by some miracle, from within the dream, I thought of Brian’s short. I paused and thought, maybe just look at the moon for a minute. Notice it. I searched the European sky and found the moon, full and low. I paused, I looked for detail, gave it time, and noticed it was rather shiny. Actually, now that I was really looking at it, it was made up of tiny mirrors. Wait a second. This moon is a disco ball. I couldn’t believe it. Woah, woah woah. If the moon is a disco ball, then this must be a dream. And suddenly, because of Brian’s work of art, I knew I was dreaming. The power was overwhelming. What now??? This world is mine? What shall I do with it?? Tell off the people I’m usually afraid of? Visit the deceased?? Try flying?? My mind raced. And then the answer became clear, because this was a once in a lifetime opportunity and I wanted to be here. I chose, with more power than I’ve ever had, to keep noticing, to stay in the pause, to delight in the outrageously majestic disco ball in the sky. I watched it twirl into the stars, knocking them away like hockey pucks. I marveled at its magnificence, fully appreciating that I was also its creator.
In my dream, I was there. And that experience drove home how often I’m not where I am.
I posted a 30 second low effort video on instagram two weeks ago that currently has over 2 million views. A few days ago I farted out a 16 second video that has over 15 million views. Instagram “compliments” me by saying, “Your video has over 20,000 hours of watch time!” like I shouldn’t be horrified that I’ve stolen 20 THOUSAND HOURS of time belonging to mothers, readers, problem solvers.
I’m genuinely sorry to be a part of the thing I hate. I’m both obsessed with social media and disgusted by it. I recognize the opportunities it’s given me as a performer, a writer, and a “cute things” enthusiast. I love the gifts. But knowing I’ve contributed to millions of people getting sucked into their phones just a little bit longer gives me a bit of guilt. I hope this essay somehow helps you, and me. I hope I can find a healthy relationship with my best friend, Phonie. And I really hope my new followers appreciate essays as much as they do videos of me impersonating “the apparently kid.”
PS. I will post Brian’s short when, or if, I’m allowed to in the future. I hope you’ll watch it. I hope you don’t watch it on your phone.
Thank you for taking the time to read Leather & Silk. I’ll see ya on TikTok.
New bumper sticker: Pause for Presence. What a gem of a post!
Love your honesty and introspection! Thank you for sharing 🙌🏼