Smorgasbord #43
Getting off the gram, Hammock, Enough
Hello friends, this is Smorgasbord, a self-service buffet of ideas—the Takis Fuego of newsletters. Alright, let’s get on with it.
Getting off the gram
This week marks one year since I closed my Instagram account (for the second time). The first time was around 2015; I resisted the urge to use the app until 2020 (I baked a lot of sourdough during the pandemic, so obviously, I had to post about it #breadgram), and about three years later, I was done again. Diana and I noticed we were spending a substantial amount of time on the app, to the point where we were getting upset when our duties as parents were getting in the way of our scrolling. This wasn’t good, so we gave IG an Irish Goodbye.
I want to be clear and say that I have nothing against people being on Instagram—before anyone takes offense, I just recognized it wasn’t something that was adding to my life—if anything, it was a time suck and a source of rage over things I had zero control over, so it had to go.
At first, I was worried people would think I had blocked them when they searched for my name, but so far, no one has complained. A couple of our friends asked why we left, and we gave the reasons above, and that was the end of the conversation. I can’t say that I miss it.
Speaking of friends, we’ve had to make some adjustments. I started being more intentional about meeting with my guy friends in person. I’ve been trying to get as many of them together as possible once a month for drinks and cigars. We’ve had friends over for dinner and hosted a few open houses earlier this year. We socialize after Sunday Mass (when the kids aren’t having meltdowns). I think it’s a good trade-off: more human contact.
Now, I can’t say that everything is perfect. As you can tell from previous Smorgasbords, I still spend a good chunk of time on YouTube. I’ve tried to reduce my time in the Substack app, especially Notes, which I treat as a nicer version of Twitter, posting funny vignettes about being a dad. I’m working on it. It’s not perfect, but I think we’re going in the right direction. I’m not a Luddite yet, but give me time.
Hammock
I bought a hammock for Diana’s birthday about seven years ago, but sadly, it tore during our last camping trip last week. However, before it gave out completely, it provided us with fun and relaxation as the kids used it as a swing, and I took a nap in it after our morning hike.
It was glorious. I had zero reception at the campsite, so I didn’t have the temptation to check my phone every five minutes. I was tired from the hike; the sun was warm, and a fresh breeze was cooling things down as I was suspended between two trees.
The kids were exploring, and Diana was reading a book. It was probably our favorite moment from our camping trip. I was able to truly rest, disconnect, and soak in the beauty of the Ponderosa Pines.
As I write, I’m a week away from a second camping trip, a three-night retreat in Northern Arizona, where I will be part of the core team that’ll minister to about 20 men from my parish. If you could pray for us, I would greatly appreciate it. Sadly, I won’t be taking the hammock with me on this trip, but I’m sure it’ll be fine.
Enough
Novak Djokovic was interviewed after winning gold in the Paris Olympics. The reporter asked him if his puzzle was complete, referring to Novak winning all there is to win in tennis—the Australian Open, French Open, Wimbledon, US Open, and Olympic Gold—also known as a “Golden Slam.” Novak said he thinks it is complete but said, “I’m always telling myself that I’m enough, you know? Because I can be very self-critical.”
Novak’s words made me think of the virtue of magnanimity, of striving for excellence. As well as my favorite Pope Emeritus Benedict XVI quote: “The world offers you comfort. But you were not made for comfort. You were made for greatness,” I think Novak is an excellent example of having those lofty goals.
But not all of us have dedicated our lives to a sport. What about us, average Joes, who have regular jobs and write weekly newsletters? I think this still applies, even if at a different scale. Strive to do your best in everything you do, whether it is laundry, cooking a meal, writing code, balancing a checkbook, or putting together a PowerPoint presentation. Make it the best you can. Maximum effort.
Think about a line with complacency and mediocrity on one end and impostor syndrome on the other. Living between these two extremes has been a struggle my whole adult life. Knowing you are enough—since I’m Catholic, I interpret this as “enough in God’s eyes—doesn’t necessarily mean that there is no room for improvement. I know God loves me where I am, but He loves me so much that He’s unwilling to leave me there.
TL;DR You are enough; now go and set some lofty goals.
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Sobremesa
Do you have any hot takes on social media? Let me hear them.
Favorite camping memory?
What do you think about magnanimity?
We got rained on the two days we were camping but the rain fly of our tent did a decent job at keeping us dry inside. And you know what they say: tragedy + time = comedy. My kids now say: "Remember that time we almost froze to death when we went camping?" Good times.
I don't know about FAVORITE camping memory but this is my strongest camping memory. My family got to the campsite, and we were basically totally unprepared. We didn't have pads so we could feel every acorn under the tent. It started to rain as soon as we arrived. The tent was leaking and water was getting INSIDE the tent. My siblings and I were all complaining. We packed up and went home immediately. Pretty funny in hindsight.