Story #1. Pup and I hike the trails on a snowy morning. It’s quiet and snowing lightly. We walk towards one of our favourite viewpoints, surrounded by the overcast grey morning air. But just like that, early morning sun pokes through the clouds, flooding and transforming the valley. Snowflakes sparkle as they dance their way to the ground. It’s mesmerizing.

Story #2. She’s one of our favourite neighbours, and I know that unless any of us is in a hurry, we always stop for a chat. And it’s never trivial. From the day we first met, we talked life, parenting (she’s now a grandma), learning as you go no matter your age, and the need to stay connected to the real world. I always leave inspired.

Story #3. Pup and I are hiking. It’s a blustery morning which makes it seem colder. I underestimated the chill factor, so I shiver and pick up the pace, daydreaming about the hot cup of coffee that comes after the hike. There is ice on the trail and a wealth of stories too. Bear tracks, so perfectly preserved I could almost see the bruin walking beside us. Pup’s nose works overtime during such times. I spot some different tracks. Big and round, no visible claw marks. Cougar tracks. Hot coffee thoughts on pause, I scan around us and we head towards more populated trails. Plus the mental note to bring along some bear spray next time.

Three reasons, along many others, I do not miss social media. There’s magic that happens when you exist in a space that does not come with conditions (other than paying attention… for obvious reasons).

I like the idea of inhabiting a space (or spaces) where I can think, observe and process information at a speed that allows me to ultimately learn and remember things. In nature and real life, things happen at a slower pace, allowing our brains to process information. And assign it significance, by connecting it to other memories and thoughts that matter to us.

There’s a whole lot of life happening around us, which is too easy to miss out on when lost on screens. Also, compared to the way content is delivered online, real life seems like it’s dragging its feet.

Take some time away from social media, and you’ll see what I mean. If nothing else, the temporary absence will shift your attention from yourself to the world around. It matters, because the connection to the real world, through real conversations and through doing things with our fellow humans is what ensures we have an appropriate sense of self in the context of real life, not an inflated sense of self despite of it.

Yes, I do miss some things that I came to appreciate, but if I were to scroll through the feed in search of them or similar ones (no one can deny that there is valuable content too), I can’t escape the feeling of picking through the garbage pile for those few precious bits of stuff that got mixed in somehow. And I don’t want them mixed in there because they do have value, but there’s not much I can do…

I always wanted to believe that connecting is the real reason that people exist in the social media space. I think it started out that way, and then it became too transactional. To an extent connection still exists, but it’s a puny percentage compared to the full dimension of what social media represents. And no matter how hard I tried, it never felt real. Not as real as a conversation in real life does.

Human connection is vital to life as we know it. It’s the backbone of it. There’s hardly a day when I don’t experience it. Family, neighbours, people whose life become intertwined with mine because we share spaces or, as it were, hiking trails. The need to connect directly will never disappear. (And I am an introvert, I should know.)

You don’t need to be someone’s best friend for them to share bits of life, whether happy or sad. We swap stories that show our vulnerable parts not for views but because we value our connection to that person. In doing so, we invite others to do the same. It’s a beautiful thing.

I came to appreciate the early morning meet-and-greet of humans and dogs in our neighborhood more than thought I would. It’s the language of a community that is as real as the snow crunching under my feet on any given morning when pup and I reach the trails. We each inhabit a space that becomes part of other people’s life story. A few months ago, one of the friends whom we got to know well and were happily greeted by almost daily, passed away. I knew of the health battles they were facing, and yet… it was a reminder of what remains, in the real world, even after we’re gone. Not a thing in virtual spaces…

I still think of how we walked together so often, a few of us with dogs, talking about social and political events but also about life – debating, laughing, learning, happy with the knowledge that each conversation adds to the feeling of belonging. The fears, worries, and joys we share with people we know, and trust are but threads of a tapestry that becomes a reminder of both life and the finality of it.

That is perhaps one of the biggest reasons I know that makes social media unpalatable. Missing out on life. It’s just not worth it.