When We Move To Spain I Want To Give Up Social Media, But It Won't Be Easy

The complicated psychology and practical ins, outs, needs and concerns

There are two things I'm going to be relatively hard on myself about when we move to Spain:

• The language

• Being careful about how and why I crave the “familiarity of home”

I don't know exactly where this comes from. I don't know if it's good, bad or requires no judgement. But it's how I am in many situations.

What I detail in today’s story probably stems from some type of insecurity.

To illustrate—

When I exercise by myself, if I set out to do 20 push-ups, I almost always push myself to do 25. While I'm sure I know it's coming, I usually don't officially make this decision until push-up 18 or 19.

I do something similar in yoga. Starting a set of push-ups one or two reps early and ending a rep or two late. I'll add push-ups to my Chaturanga Dandasanas. I do likewise by holding difficult (especially) breath-constricting poses a few seconds longer.

I used to be this way in other areas of life, especially work. It was no way to live.

So I stopped.

Almost cold turkey.

I still push myself here and there, but typically not to do more. Because, as Carlos, one of our yoga instructors, says: Sometimes more isn't better; it's just more.

I just try to do what I do as well as I can without cutting corners. There absolutely is an element of obsessiveness to this. But I don't think I'm fooling myself when I spin it—mostly—positive and healthy.

My tendency to plan ahead and research whatever I'm working on extensively (like a visa) probably lives somewhere in this neurosis.

While it wasn't the case for a while, I think I finally have this aspect of my personality under control. The effects of these behaviors are largely positive ways to take some productive control over my anxiety, use it to my advantage and challenge myself.

I have watched/watch people close to me with literally debilitating anxiety normalize their conditions. This is their way of taking control. Chalking up resistance to new things or refusing to do anything outside of a super rigid and structured routine as a perfectly sane and logical choice, rather than as a coping mechanism to artificially remove a layer or two of anxiety as to not have to deal with it.

Out of sight (or not part of their conscious life), but most definitely not out of mind.

Anyhow—

My recognition of this dynamic—I think—informs how I handle all of the above and reassures me that I'm handling it well. Or, at least, in a way that's healthier than before. The days of 12-to-16 hour workdays are long (like close to 10 years long) in the rearview mirror.

I say all of that because I believe it's directly related to this.

• I'm obsessive about not giving myself a pass—within reason—on learning Spanish.

• Once we arrive in Spain at the crack of the New Year, I hope to be extra careful around the idea of familiarity.

On both points, I'm already starting.

On the language, I do as much as I can in Spanish. If I have to complete a—for example—administrative or bureaucratic task, I try to ensure the language is set to Spanish. My mobile phone is set to Spanish. And so on.

Of course, if I don’t know or understand something I look it up. This is part of the learning process. I don’t want to do something wrong out of an unrealistic stubbornness. That said, it’s way easier to translate everything to English or go with English-friendly providers of services (who market their services as such) than it is to stay in the more time-consuming and relatively uncomfortable territory of a foreign language.

I want to set the groundwork for immersion to be as effective as possible when we begin the process of settling in Spain. I want to experience Spain as much and as soon as possible as a (second language) Spanish speaker.

I have high and low expectations about this simultaneously. I know it’s an incredibly difficult process so I don’t expect too much. But I also know there are lots of opportunities to take the easy way out. I have high expectations to minimize this element.

Along these lines—and directly related to familiarity—I know there will be multiple times every single day when I randomly come across or seek out (even if subconsciously) English speakers. And when I do, I will feel at ease—even happy—because I found some familiarity in the unfamiliar. Like translating something I simply don’t understand yet to English, there’s nothing wrong with this.

Pero (but)—

I want to be mindful of any familiarity-seeking. Why am I doing it? Where is it coming from? And could I benefit more from sitting in unfamiliarity than by taking an easier way out?

Which brings us to social media.

It’s so easy to go to your phone when you’re waiting in line, in a crowd or when the conversation stalls. When you’re feeling uneasy, unsure what to do or otherwise emotionally unsettled. Hit up Instagram, it does its work on the chemicals in your brain and you feel better. More grounded. But what did it really do to address your original source of consternation? To aid and abet your process of growth and evolution.

Here again—all within reason. Everyone requires escapes. And we should access them. However, just as it’s not a good idea to abuse alcohol (or soft drugs), it’s not a good idea to make social media your primary—or only—source of escape and comfort.

When I’m feeling down—or otherwise out of sorts in Spain—I don’t want to revert to opening my phone and finding Los Angeles-based comfort in a post about something from my pre-Spain life. I just don’t think it’s healthy. It’s not progress. And it contributes to defeating a large part of the point of moving in the first place.

Here one more time—all within reason. I might call my daughter in these situations. But seeing her face is something I look forward to already. And there’s nothing wrong with keeping tabs on what’s happening at home.

That’s really the key—at home—because Los Angeles and the United States of America will no longer be home. It’s where I used to live and where I am from, but—in my conception of how I want to live out the second half of my life—it ceases to be home. It’s a special place where I did lots of cool shit, made great memories and—even if unknowingly at times—brought myself to where I am today. But it’s no longer home.

I overstayed my welcome in Los Angeles. I’m done with it. It’s probably done with me. So it should no longer serve as a source of familiarity or comfort.

This said—my work requires me to keep in touch, which can make it difficult to disconnect. I need to know what’s happening in the stock market, with the housing crisis, the larger economy and—sadly, to some extent—American politics.

Plus, I don’t want to become dumb and numb to what’s transpiring here.

Plus plus, I'm sure it will difficult to resist the urge to scroll the social media I'm aiming to avoid. But I'm going to try because I think it's a worthy goal and endeavor.

So, as I purge my social media, I find myself keeping accounts that provide the information I require, but do it in a way that doesn’t deliver the familiarity I will feel like I lack, but need to build in Spain. It’s an interesting dance between letting go, not completely detaching from the emotional aspects of your (soon-to-be) former home and staying in touch so I can do my job efficiently and effectively.

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I considered some variation of this the other day when driving around Los Angeles.

I know how to get everywhere throughout a large swath of this mess without even thinking. That’s a good feeling to have. It illustrates knowledge of and connection with a place.

In Spain, I want to build this wayfinding and subsequent sense of place in Valencia rather than lamenting the reality that it will take some time to get to the point where I was in America.