“What fresh hell is this?”
Every morning I groan as I succumb to the temptation to look at my phone first thing: 37 marketing emails; 122 new Reels and TikToks sent in the early hours by insomniac friends doomscrolling through their anxiety; Fitbit reminding me I didn’t meet my step count and asking why my heart rate is suddenly spiking; and an endless stream of bleak and depressing news stories. Every morning. E-V-E-R-Y single day. The simple act of waking up feels as labor-intensive as building fresh new levees every day in my brain, putting most of my energy into holding back the perennial and increasing flood of despair and just… bad… that feels like the world these days. If one must imagine Sisyphus* happy, its because at least he didn’t have to deal with the algorithm, right?
When I did start imagining things, I found some inspiration. Paul tells the Roman church, and me by proxy, that when I wake up, salvation is near. It doesn’t feel like it, but I don’t have to engage in the commoditization of my psyche and I don’t have to be victim to my fleshly desire for dopamine. I get to choose what I see, not algorithms. I can choose to watch that feed for things that show me the light of Christ.
In midst of the darkness of the stories of genocide in Palestine, war in Ukraine, large-scale death and destruction, climate-driven disasters, etc. etc. I saw a bit of that light breaking through. A story about one of the oldest Christian-majority countries in the world, Armenia, opening up diplomatic relations with neighbors it has been at war with for years. While there may be global politics I am not privy to, that crack of light in the darkness of the news feed reminded me that I have more options than despair or sleep. I can wake up and watch for the light of Christ and how it breaks through in a world seemingly encapsulated in darkness.
*Sisyphus is the mythological founder of what is now known as Corinth who angered Zeus and was cursed to an eternity of rolling a boulder up a hill every day just for it to roll back down again every night.
This reflection was written by Kale Anderson.