Fight, Flight, or Phone
How do I respond to stress?
Call your grandma because she’s going to be so proud of me.
I’ve done something unbelievable. Gather the floats and schedule a parade. I have ascended to a new level of consciousness.
Quick Recap…
Previously on Taylor Johnson: I need to spend less time on my phone because I feel like it’s making me a sad crabby blob. It’s hurting my ability to work, have healthy relationships, and it’s keeping me from pursuing my real passion: starting a nonprofit where I break dance for the elderly. They need something to live for but I can’t learn any cool flips or spins with this screen in my hand!
It’s time to get off my phone. It’s my SUMMER OF LOOKING UP.
HOW ARE YOU FEELING?
Sweet?
Sweaty?
Salty?
I’M GRATEFUL FOR
Anne Lamott’s Bird by Bird
The sun. The freaking sun.
Well, I took a new step in the right direction. I never thought I would be this type of person, but here I am.
I leave my phone in my car when I go to church now. I know. I know. You’re stunned. And, it’s, like, a real church service. Like, longer than an hour. And my phone is in my car the whole time. Without me. Because I’m in church. Paying attention. On purpose. And I’m still doing it 3 weeks in. Even I’m shocked by that. I didn’t just think about doing it, I actually did it. 3 weeks in a row. And I’m going to keep doing it.
Usually I like to just think about stuff like this. Thinking is the fun part. I come up with so many great ideas for how to live a happier, healthier, holier, more fulfilled, and efficient life. I love all my ideas. A new writing routine? A fail safe plan for never falling behind on laundry again? I can scheme all day! I love it because it requires ZERO EFFORT. No follow through. No work. No disappointment.
So how did my phone actually end up left behind that first Sunday morning? I’m not sure. I’m just as surprised as anyone. I love having my phone at church. Quick glances at the screen during worship, googling random answers that have nothing to do with service because I could use a good distraction. How can I survive without it by my side?
The first week was surprisingly easy. Maybe because I was only viewing it as an experiment. Can I handle this? What would happen if I try? I wasn’t jumping in with the commitment of doing it the rest of my life. Could I handle just one Sunday? Or maybe riding the adrenaline from feeling superior to everyone else in church was enough to get me through. Who knows!
The second week got harder. I couldn’t stop checking the clock in the back of the sanctuary. How was time so much slower without my phone? It took 20 minutes for 5 minutes to pass!
The third week felt the worst. I’m starting to realize why, and it’s making me uncomfortable.
Speaking of feeling uncomfortable, I should check in with you, the reader. How are you doing? Starting to feel uneasy because you’re confronting how much better I am than you? I mean, I spent three hours over three weeks without my phone! Your grandma is going to be so jealous I’m not her grandson!
Allow me to even things out. Don’t be discouraged. I’m not perfect. I have weaknesses too.
It happened the other week, halfway through a session with my new therapist. I really like her. Gentle. Kind. Easy to trust. It feels like she has a plan for how to help.
Part of her plan was an exercise where she was going to ask a series of questions. Only, we never got passed the first one.
She asked the question and an answer came to mind immediately. I paused, waiting to think of something better to say. She told me it was one of those “first-thought-best-thought don’t think too hard” questions, so I blurted it out.
It wasn’t until I heard it out loud that I realized what I had done. I gave a great answer. A REALLY great answer. The more I thought about it, the more I realized just how true the answer felt. Maybe too true. Maybe I was just way too vulnerable too fast with a new therapist and I shouldn’t have actually said that!
I shut down. Not as a voluntary choice but as an automatic response my body launched into before any rational thoughts could form. I didn’t think I wanted to shut down! I thought I wanted to keep on answering questions, but it was like I physically couldn’t. I had no thoughts. Zero. I stared off to nowhere, waiting, hoping, wishing that ANY new thought would show up so I could say something and we could move on.
Radio silence. Walls up. Retreat to Helms Deep.
Without realizing it, I had evolved into a Pokemon whose only mood is HARDEN.
Sit. Stare. Nothing. Nothing. Blank. Still nothing.
Who knows how long I could have sat like that.
My therapist broke the silence.
“You froze up there.”
Calling it out helped break the spell.
She brought up stress responses. Fight or flight. They keep adding new ones. Fight, flight, freeze, fawn, freak, fart, faint, flip, flop, float, fiddle, faddle, and Fincher (you respond to stress by watching David Fincher films).
I’ve always known mine is freeze. In the moment, my body is convinced any other option will only make things worse. Just play opossum. Shut it all off, hunker down, pretend you’re dead, and the storm will pass eventually.
But I was still caught off guard when my therapist called it out. Wait, even THAT counts as freeze? What I just did? I do that all the time! OH NOOOOOO!
I don’t know why I do it or how to stop.
It’s a good thing I don’t have to figure it out on my own.
It’s great to have an expert to walk me through this. Avoiding it will only keep me stuck, but it’s intimidating to confront. I really don’t like this part of myself.
My therapist didn’t seem scared, though. She didn’t even seem annoyed or frustrated with this part of me. She accepted it. Talked about how it must have served a purpose at some point in my life when I felt the need to protect myself. I don’t need it anymore. And we can work toward healthier responses. You know, all the things I know in theory until it’s time to apply to myself.
You want to know the question that feels too spicy to linger on?
How often am I freezing in my day to day life without admitting it to myself, because I can hide behind my phone?
I know it’s happening! I’ve felt it the last few weeks in church when the muscle memory kicks in and I reach for a phone that isn’t there.
I don’t feel like I’m frozen when I’m scrolling.
I keep reaching for my phone whenever I’m uncomfortable. The same thing used to happen while journaling. I’d start writing about something emotionally messy and a split second later I’d be scrolling. Wait. What happened? When did I stop writing? How long have I been in this app?! I had to start leaving my phone on the other side of the room.
Now I’m leaving it in my car.
It’s intimidating to just sit with myself. Easy to avoid. No one can make me as uncomfortable as I can.
That’s why I’m making sure I’m practicing at church. What better place to learn how to sit with myself than when I’m surrounded with other people and with Jesus? Maybe one day I’ll be able to go more places without being weighed down by the the screen in my trousers, but church is a great place to get better at sitting with my discomfort. Any discomfort brought up by the gospel or scripture is probably worth dealing with.
May the Spirit melt my heart whenever it feels like freezing.
May the Spirit give me something worth paying attention to during my SUMMER OF LOOKING UP.
Love you like a neighbor,
Taylor Johnson
P.S. The Screen in My Trousers is the name of a book I will never write.
Get tickets to see my live comedy storytelling show this fall
Taylor, this is amazing. I accidentally started my “summer of looking up” a few weeks ago too. I couldn’t find my phone before church two weeks in a row. The first week I was annoyed with myself because I like the comfort of my phone, but I listened better and remembered more of the message. Then when I couldn’t find it the next Sunday (last Sunday), I decided it was okay to go without it. I’ll leave it in the car on purpose next week! Thanks so much. This is really encouraging. I appreciate the vulnerability.