So You Quit Social Media (or Cheeseburgers) … Why the Big Flex?

Plop … right in my feed. This title:

“Bye Bye, Spotify”

Left Spotify?!?! What superhuman power caused this?

Or this?

One week after eliminating the last two social media platforms left standing in my world — Facebook and LinkedIn — I have said so long to my Spotify Premium subscription.

I have a feeling I will miss it about as much as I miss Netflix, which I got rid of this past January.

Facebook … LinkedIn … Netflix … now SPOTIFY!?!? Some people have Herculean self-control. Or they’ve attained enlightenment. Or they’re just better than me.

“Too Much” … It’s in Our DNA

These articles never lack for self-importance. It’s the person who undoes what everyone else does and, because of it, is always the better. They’re part self-experiment, part look at me. Rarely are these articles written to help you; nor do they shine a light on anything of much importance … except for the obvious: that life is a series of “too much” … too much coffee, too much social media, too much clutter, too much TV, too much bragging about our kids, too much climbing the corporate ladder, too much prestige (and on and on and on).

We all have our anchors, our addictions, our wastes. And yet, these things are, for the most part, livable; we partake in their small benefits and small pleasures. Science says you’re better off quitting Dr. Pepper, but c’mon, it tastes sooo good. Or that slice of cake … or that Sunday football game … or that overpriced Mercedes … there’s better uses of your time, money, and calories, but there’s joy — your personal joy — in these vices.

Pescatarians Are Still Imperfect

And then along comes somebody who wants you to know “I quit [insert any small pleasure, time waster, or mild addiction].” And they want you to know how amazing they are because of it. Anyone who says “Bye Bye, Spotify” doesn’t mean this cordially; they mean it triumphantly, and they want you to say “Damn, you’re enlightened.”

These types of articles are the written equivalent of a workout selfie. Neither has much value to you, and yet, both have immense value to the speaker. It’s like the unknown guest at the dinner table … you order a cheeseburger, and he lets you know — without prompt — that red meat is bad for you. “Red meat,” he says, “causes high cholesterol and increases your risk for cardiovascular disease. So now I eat fish.” But he doesn’t actually care if you eat fish; he just wants you to know how loftier he is for eating it.

Unless You’re a Monk ….

The guy who doesn’t eat red meat also drinks too much. Or he’s obsessed with fitness. Or his credit cards are maxed out. People who make a public case for their enlightenment never mention their other flaws … i.e., the things you painfully relinquish but which they still greedily devour. Consequently, it’s not a checkmate moment when they flex against food, media, or materialism. The ones who flex … they want you to believe it’s a one-vice world.

If you’re a monk and you’ve cast off Facebook, LinkedIn, Netflix, and Spotify, then I apologize. You’ve gone all in on self-betterment and self-deprivation. If this is the case, I’m a jerk. But if you’re not a monk and you’ve said “bye, bye” to social media or coffee or television, cool your spotlight a bit. Because to you, the moment may seem herculean (maybe it’s your salvation), but I still like social media and coffee and television … and you still like cheeseburgers.