For a long time, I felt like I was failing at… well, everything, if I wasn't constantly plugged into the 24-7 news cycle.
Every headline, every breaking alert, every pundit's pronouncement felt like a personal mandate to be informed, engaged and frankly, a little bit stressed out. (Never mind that our parent company is in the news business and our boss has been an entertainment host for 20 years. We're literally down the hall from the news.)
It is a constant hum of anxiety, a perpetual sense of impending doom that I believed was my civic duty to absorb. But then, something shifted. I started to notice a peculiar lightness, a quiet joy blooming in the spaces where the news used to be. I’d hit mute. And it was… refreshing.
It wasn't a sudden, dramatic decision. It was more of a slow, deliberate unclenching. I began to realize that my constant immersion in the news wasn't making me a more effective participant in the world; it was making me a more anxious observer. I was consuming information at a relentless pace, but was I truly processing it? Was I gaining any genuine insight or was I just drowning in a sea of negativity and sensationalism? The answer, I had to admit, was leaning heavily towards the latter.
The shift began subtly. I’d skip the morning news, opting instead for a quiet cup of Buff coffee and a few pages of a good book. I’d turn off the push notifications on my phone, those insistent little demands for my attention that always seemed to herald something dire. (Keep your Club Buff ones on though. Those are important!)
At first, there was a sense of guilt, a nagging feeling that I was sticking my head in the sand. What if something crucial happened? What if I was missing a vital piece of information that would impact my life or the lives of others?
But as the days turned into weeks, a remarkable thing happened. The world didn’t end. The sky didn’t fall. In fact, the world felt manageable again. The anxieties that had been a constant companion started to recede. I found myself more present in my own life. My conversations with friends and family became richer because I wasn’t constantly interrupting them to check my phone or lament the latest political gaffe. I started noticing the small, beautiful things again: the way the sunlight hit the leaves on the trees, the taste of my food, the genuine connection in a shared laugh.
Tuning out of the news, for me, wasn't about apathy. It was about reclaiming my mental and emotional bandwidth. It was about recognizing that the constant barrage of information, much of it designed to provoke a strong emotional response, was actively detrimental to my well-being. I realized that while staying informed is important, there's a vast difference between being informed and being overwhelmed.
Of course, I’m not advocating for complete ignorance. There are certainly critical issues that demand our attention and action. But the way we consume news has become a form of digital addiction for many, fueled by algorithms designed to keep us hooked. We’re often presented with a curated, often sensationalized, version of reality that can distort our perception of the world and our place in it.
So, how did I do it? It wasn't about flipping a switch. It was a gradual process of setting boundaries. I decided to limit my news consumption to specific, intentional times. Instead of constant scrolling, I might dedicate 15 minutes once per day, perhaps in the evening, to catch up on the most significant developments from trusted sources. Back in the day you'd watch the 6 o'clock news and get caught up. Or, at the end of the day, the late news for a summary of the day before going to bed. Or, opening the newspaper first thing in the morning to get a recap of the day before.
I also made a conscious effort to seek out more balanced perspectives, to read articles that offered nuance and avoided hyperbole. I subscribed to newsletters that summarized important news without the sensationalism.
The result has been profoundly liberating. I feel more grounded, more in control of my own emotional landscape. My focus has sharpened, allowing me to engage more meaningfully with my work, my relationships and my personal interests. I am still aware of the world’s goings-on, but I am no longer a passive victim of its relentless narrative.
If you’re feeling that same gnawing anxiety, that sense of being perpetually on edge, I urge you to consider taking a break. Give yourself permission to tune out. You might be surprised by the clarity, the peace and the sheer, unadulterated refreshment you find in the quiet.
It’s not about burying your head in the sand; it’s about surfacing for air, so you can navigate the world with a clearer head and a calmer heart. And in this often-turbulent world, that’s a revolutionary act indeed.