I was shocked to learn in a book on teen brain functions how addictive some of my iPhone features could be. In Jeremy and Jerusha Clark’s book, “Your Teenager is not Crazy” they describe addiction.
“An activity can become addictive if it (1) provides pleasure and give relief from unpleasant emotions (2) requires increasing activity (3) makes a person feel uncomfortable or distressed when access is denied (4) creates conflict with people or life responsibilities (5) becomes difficult to set aside, despite attempts to do so, and (6) ultimately dominates someone’s life, both in what they do and what they think about €¦”
“When adolescents focus their attention in particular ways, energy and information flow through neural pathways and into their entire body through the nervous system. With each incoming digital signal, your teen’s brain fires, activating specific circuits. The more particular pathways are activated, the more they’re strengthened (‘hardwired’).”
Their description of technology addiction resembled my behavior. I didn’t even have their excuse, since my teen years were just a faint memory.
After reading this, I realized I was well on my way to becoming addicted to the little ding sounds on my phone Facebook site. These sounds indicated a “like” comment from a post I’d submitted. Like one of Pavlov’s dogs, I recognized how I had been trained to react whenever I heard the magic ding acknowledging someone’s approval and I salivated with an instant sense of well-being.
My full recognition of this sad state took place during the busy days of summer when I found myself growing depressed with the absence of my ego-boosting dings.
Had I lost my following? Had I become boring? Did I need new material? I felt abandoned and unappreciated.
For a while, I avoided writing. After I convinced myself to try again, I submitted my post and waited. Nothing, absolutely no sound from my phone for hours. I checked the Facebook site just to make sure it was working. Nothing.
It would be better not to be able to hear the lack of dings, so I turned my cell phone off and settled back to watch TV.
But wait €¦what if my friend called or my son needed me to babysit? I had to have my phone on in case of emergencies.
I knew the One with the answer, so I prayed to Him for a clear view of my blog blues. It wasn’t long until I got an answer.
My attitude reeked of pride. Hadn’t I just commented to someone that my blog was for God’s glory?
Whose glory?
With red face and beating heart, I realized just whose glory had been occupying my concerns.
Now, what should I do to return to my original goal to bring honor to my Lord. How could I break this addiction?
Do you want me to quit blogging, Lord?
I took some time off from posting my blog and did some soul-searching. It appeared God was leading me to continue to write. Maybe I just needed to disconnect myself from the ding to which I’d become dependent. How would I do it?
Maybe I could visit my mobile phone store for help. But how would I explain myself?
“Uh, I need some help with my addiction to dings. Could you make it so I can’t hear them anymore? Do you have the number for Dings Anonymous, by any chance?”
I decided that a straight-forward explanation in honest humility was the best approach. As I handed the tech expert my cell phone, I swallowed hard and asked him to remove the dings from my Facebook notifications.
Seconds later, I headed home with a lighter step, relieved of my burden of pride (at least for one of the many traps I seem to step into daily). Until the next challenge comes, let my goal continue to be to give God glory and to stay away from addictive dings.
Dianna
Sharing the Fruit of Maturity
