We hold our deepest fears and digital distractions at the same distance – arm’s length: close enough to see, yet far enough away to avoid.

Our emotional diet consists of plates full of digital distractions, nothing more than junk food weighed down with empty calories. A temporary void that leaves us malnourished yet craving more for reasons we can’t articulate. Mindless scrolling is like sugar to the body—quick bursts of energy only lead to an eventual crash.

The question is not, ‘why do you do it?’ No, the question is, ‘What do you get as a result?’

The cycle of avoidance feeds our hunger for distraction and starves us of emotional resilience. It looks like this:

• Distractions feel good right now
• Feeling good right now conceals the truth
• The truth doesn’t have feelings
• Feelings appear when we add our emotions
• Distractions feed off our emotions
• Digital distractions are a microcosm of life’s problems—we keep them at arm’s length so we don’t have to confront them

All living things need food to survive, but starve your ego if you want to grow. Nourishing your growth isn’t the same as feeding your comfort. Emotional resilience is like pouring gasoline on the fire of your personal development. That doesn’t happen by going a year without your cell phone—it happens by confronting the areas you are avoiding.

One of the biggest realizations throughout this year-long journey has been the area in my life that I had been avoiding: my relationship with God. I succeeded on the basketball court and told myself – I don’t need God; look at everything I achieved. God let me see, feel, and taste success at the end of the day – yet I wanted something more.

I realized that God didn’t need me, but I needed Him. 

Too often, unsettling questions would surface about my faith and the relationship I was avoiding. Instead of sitting silently, I did the easy thing: I reached for my cell phone. Keeping my relationship with God at arm’s length was always within sight and easily accessible but never fully embraced.

When facing our fears feels too daunting, the adult pacifier—our cellphone—is always within arm’s reach, offering immediate but fleeting comfort. The baby is hungry—pacifier. The baby is tired—pacifier. The baby is—well, we just don’t know what’s going on—pacifier. As adults, we do the same thing; we only grab our phones. Whenever we face challenging questions to unpack, dreams to chase, or uncomfortable conversations, we reach for the adult pacifier—our cell phone.

We choose pacification over presence, numbness over nourishment.

I get it—you need your cell phone for work, and nothing I will say will cause you to change—but ask yourself this:

• Do you need to be on Instagram for 3 hours a day?
• Do you need to watch one more video on YouTube?
• Do you need to scroll the comment section of that one person you don’t even like just to see what some stranger is saying?

What truths about yourself have you been avoiding through distractions? What dreams have you stopped chasing because it’s easier and less painful to follow someone else’s dream through your phone?

Are those questions themselves unsettling to you, or does the discomfort in your answers disturb your sense of comfort?