The Information Diet

A Personal Experiment in Conscious Digital Living

I don't know how to explain well why certain topics get stuck in my head and I can't get over them unless I write about them. The information diet is one of them. As someone who became a professional in the field of mind-body at the same time that the world gave birth to social media, I can't stop thinking of those times where being online was a joyful experience. Or at least, not a painful one. Back then, it almost felt as the same excitement when the world became connected through the internet in the late 90s. Social media was so brilliant in reconnecting us to different people from different phases of our lives at the same time and quite drastically changed how our generation and the ones to come understood connection. That was of course until we realized that having every friend from elementary and high school and distant cousins added as a friend was not such a great idea after all. And we discovered the power of unfollowing people way before we discover ghosting. During those times, in a nostalgic way, I feel that the relationships that we had in social media resembled more of our human relationships. It feels to me that social media's blueprint was centered on preserving relationships.

But a lot has changed from those joyful or not so joyful connections. Like in real life, these platforms were not shielded from what was happening in society and politics. In fact, these platforms went through every single transformation that we went through. The result... A polarized world where our treasured connections were drowned into feeds impossible to navigate. Intoxicated by political statements, fake news, and an obscene amount of opinions and stubborn ads.

I remember the days around 2010 where it was sweet, perhaps naive, to use Facebook just to share my schedule of yoga classes for the day and an inspirational quote. Although recently I took a time off from Facebook, my account is still open. Most of my clients are still there, so I do check the account regularly but Instagram became the one stop for social media for me. And for a while I understood the importance of staying connected with my students and clients. The importance of sharing my voice. But I would be lying to you if I don't tell you that at some point it started to feel overwhelming. Both in the sense of having to "put content out" to stay relevant and yet being bombarded by so much information. In the same way that we burn out at work at times, it is common to burn out in this age of uncontrollable amounts of information.

I am sure you have noticed that gone are your favorite accounts to follow, or your best friends. For the most part your feed (and don't get me started with that name feed!) Your feed and what you are feeding off is an insufferable amount of ads, influencers, content creators, and maybe every once in a while a doughnut that a friend of yours is enjoying in a new bakery in town. I wonder if this is only my experience of finding that over the years social media became everything except social. On the contrary, I believe it is anti-social. I believe they sold the idea of connection really well. We bought it. But now we are addicted to the "feed" of information. But we are no longer in charge of it. Perhaps we never were. But now, it is shameless the level of information we are thrown daily and expected to consume under the disguise of staying connected with the world.

Most of us are simply using social media not so far off from what a person might use substances to tune out. Getting a socially approved "fix" by scrolling and forgetting our problems by watching others doing every day more stupid things. Or watching others promising and selling the dream. And more and more, particularly these days, those promises are increasingly being made by AI. So, I am sorry if I sound a bit like a negative Nancy on this one, but it's going to get worse.

Where did all the good people go?

My personal experiment started about a year ago. After my life was thrown into the air like an Italian pizza and was spinning in the air for a while. If you are interested to learn what I was going through, you can catch up here.

But back to the experiment. It was inspired by a deep longing to reconnect to what I love and the people I love from a place of humanity. Not from a place of what is missing in my life that can be found on social media. It was also motivated by the overwhelming stream of bad news in the world. How can we return to the beauty that exists if the only thing that our screens are reflecting is a world that doesn't exist or a world that hurts too much to be in?

I always knew that the phone is a double-edged sword. I need it for work. I hate it. But I need it. But after almost 20 years in the field of mind-body I felt like I could take a break. I stopped checking Instagram, I stopped posting, I stopped sending newsletters.

And it pains me to share that no, I didn't become more social in real life, my friends didn't reach out asking why aren't you posting, or anything like that. But I realized that there was another dimension to the tunnel vision dimension of my phone. Around that time Jonathan Haidt's book The Anxious Generation came out and it raised all the red flags that I already knew. Haidt argues that around 2010–2015, childhood as we knew it was "rewired" from being mostly play inspired meaning face to face interaction to being phone-based. He links this shift to a sharp rise in anxiety, depression, self-harm, and loneliness among teens, especially girls, citing research on brain development, social comparison, and sleep disruption. Basically he is telling parents don't give your kids a phone until they are mature. But if you are cynical a bit, like I am, you probably know the parents are already hooked on the phone as well. So good luck with that.

In my coaching practice, I see this same struggle everywhere. Parents trying to set screen time rules for their kids while feeling helpless about their own habits. Couples who want to connect but find themselves scrolling instead of talking through difficult conversations. The very things I was wrestling with personally were showing up in session after session.

So then I looked at my abandoned Instagram and I began the process of finding the real people amidst the noise. I began to check in every day for 10 to 15 minutes and clean my social media. I began with one of the easiest steps. Delete all the news outlets, both the ones in the US and Argentina. And I was blown away at the level of information I was getting as "news." As if it wasn't enough that I was trying to keep up with two countries and the world, I happen to be a person that likes to hear three sides of the story. So you do the math: left, right and in the middle points of view in the US, and same in Argentina, radicales, justicialistas, y liberales outlets.

As I began to unfollow, I followed a basic metric. Before unfollowing I asked myself: How much time have you stolen from me? And was it worth it? Of course it wasn't. I unfollowed every single news outlet. You might be wondering why Adrian? You don't care about the world? Of course I do. But I care most about being in control of my mental health. And I opted instead to read one newspaper in the US and one in Argentina once a day. I can obtain my news by going to a website instead of being pepper sprayed all day long and having my nervous system feeling like one of those inflatable tube men on the street. Get a newspaper, a real one if you are fancy, read the news. Done. And go on with your life outside the screen.

So that was the first part of the experiment. The second part of the experiment was cleaning up my social media from the so many gurus, tech bros, inspirational, aspirational, wannabes, mentors, life coaches, spiritual coaches, how-to masters. And this was a tough one. I have so many different interests based on my diverse background as a trauma informed coach, crisis counselor, bilingual, gay, immigrant, etc, and all of them bring something to the table, but I am tired of the table being full of unattainables. I want the table to be full of real people. Like you and me. Everyone talks about community and connection but we have veered so far off from it, and there is no one guiding us back. So I can be okay with fewer coaches, mentors, artists. I don't need to see every single one of Demi Moore's outfits.

And after doing that something magical happened. I started to see more real people on my feed. Less Karens being shamed. Less how to organize your closet, edit your videos, get more clients, have a killer online program to get more clients for coaching, and instead I saw my own dog's Instagram that I haven't seen in a while but her other daddy posts photos of. I started to see friends who had moved. A friend who became a massage therapist. A friend who takes pictures of the beautiful places where he runs. A friend sharing the plants in her balcony. My niece taking her selfie with a kissy face before going out. And it became more manageable. More real. And to my surprise, I watched myself pressing the hearts more often. Making comments to friends that we have not been connected with in a while. To my surprise my inbox started to receive more messages.

This is one of those messages:

I don't know what happened, but I know who you are. You are a voice that embraces, a gift of peace, a force that moves without pushing. You have your own light and you have impacted the lives of many for good and for better. You taught me and connected me with many things that I didn't know existed in me and around me. God bless you.

This is another:

Miss you

And this is my own father after I shared for the first time something more personal:

Good morning little one. Yesterday I saw something on Instagram, it was written in Spanish, I read it and I love what you shared. And I am trying to find it today but I can't find it.

These moments of connection and tenderness remind us of our shared humanity.

I don't believe in happy endings when it comes to technology until I see companies really caring about us. But for now, this is helping me.

And yet, I didn't want to leave my experiment just like that without a system of accountability. I know that we are humans, and we can also be our worst enemies sometimes.

So I started to explore my iPhone options when it comes to screen time and I was pleasantly surprised that at least on your iPhone you have tools that can make a big difference on your information diet. You can go to screen time, and after the horror of realizing how much time you spent on your phone daily, you can select how much time you want to spend a day on specific apps or groups of apps. For example I allowed myself to spend only 10 minutes a day on social media. 15 minutes a day replying to emails. And you can also select a downtime schedule where most apps are not available so you have fewer distractions. So there is a way for your phone to be just that, a phone. I am sure other brands of phones are adding similar settings.

When you receive an important email and the app blocker says you can't read your email until tomorrow, you do have the option of adding a minute or an extra 15 minutes. It brings a sense of urgency and lets you know that yes, you can do that, but you already passed your limit. I think that is an important exercise to do with our phones because they are like another limb for us, and we shouldn't be so dependent on them. Negotiating is a good practice so we question our dependence. Sometimes we give in, sometimes we maintain the rules that we set. I found this system to work for me for now.

I am not going to lie. It is annoying to realize how much we depend on these gadgets. And it is annoying to be reminded for a moment how much we incorporated them as an extension of ourselves. How much they have replaced interacting with real people. And yet, for many it is the only way to truly connect to others.

Last realization, because ultimately, these thoughts that I entertain for a while are always more philosophical and humanistic more than tech or lifestyle.

I had to remind myself that information isn't knowledge. More information doesn't equal truth. It doesn't equal wisdom. Having access to more information and stimulation than we can process doesn't make us better nor smarter. It makes us dependent and isolated. So perhaps, in a world that increasingly feels oppressive, saying no to the amount of time that we spend on the phone, or how we spend time on the phone, could be a step in the right direction toward liberation.

What I am questioning is not the need for staying informed, to be a responsible citizen, engaged. We have to, particularly with so many liberties taken for granted. This is not the time to stop checking the news and do self-care manicures and pedicures.

Our times are rough right now. There are wars. Children dying. Entire nations in pain. We can't pretend to wake up happy about another day and go out and preach how wonderful life is. But the world, even with the obvious reckoning that we are experiencing, is our home. Others in the street regardless of our political affiliation are our human brothers and sisters. That becomes more clear if you look in their eyes and not down at your screen.

In yoga we call that Moksha, freedom. Liberation from the cycle of suffering.

In therapy, we call that agency, the felt sense that you can make choices and influence your life, rather than being passively controlled by external circumstances.

Time's up.

Thank you for reading.

With love, Adrian

Adrian Molina is a trauma-informed coach, crisis counselor, and peer recovery support specialist based in Miami Beach. He has dedicated over two decades to working with survivors of sexual abuse and trafficking in hospitals, homeless shelters, prisons, and crisis centers. Adrian has trained with RAINN (Rape, Abuse & Incest National Network), AFSP (American Foundation for Suicide Prevention) and has worked as a volunteer crisis specialist with the 988 Suicide & Crisis Lifeline. Originally from Buenos Aires, Argentina, he moved to the United States in the early 2000s and began his career teaching yoga before transitioning into trauma recovery work. Adrian's private practice is grounded in the understanding that healing requires both professional knowledge and lived experience. Through his writing and client work, he helps survivors integrate their experiences and reclaim their power.

Photo by Egor Vikhrev