The 21-Day Anti-Civ Fast

Reclaiming my place in the world of experience

“Your life is not a tragedy because this happened or that happened. The sun came up and you didn’t see it — that is a tragedy.” — Sadhguru

“You can best serve civilization by being against what usually passes for it.” — Wendell Berry

Chinese photinia (Photinia serratifolia)

Note: Throughout this post, I’ve included pictures of plants that are currently blooming or springing up in my yard. Spring is in full fling here in Georgia. It’s been a rainy weekend and stormy start to the week, so the plants are celebrating after several dry days. These photos are seemingly unrelated to the topic at hand, but hopefully by the end, you will find that everything is indeed connected.

I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea that real change happens from the inside out. I’ve been thinking and feeling into what my head and heart are saying, and most of it is: Can you please put the goddamn phone down for a minute so we can have an honest conversation?

The ancestors that tune in are frustrated. They see a life too distracted by culture, too easily drawn toward shiny objects, too deeply rutted in worn out stories, too worried about the world to see what’s happening within this one life. Too fearful to be curious.

Are you seeing this? they ask, the signs are all around.

Red buckeye (Aesculus pavia)

Indeed, the signs are everywhere, and the time has come to ask myself if I’m picking up what the spirit world is putting down. Or am I choosing to turn away because the message isn’t exactly a comfortable one?

I’ve just started reading Christine Rosen’s book The Extinction of Experience. Rosen posits that we have largely traded the world of direct experience for one in which most of our experiences are in front of screens mediated by tech. She argues that we are living a kind of voyeur existence, watching life happen elsewhere, emotionally reacting to other people’s stories, barely present for, barely living our own stories. She believes we have traded the human condition for the user experience and ponders what a world without human to human and human to nature connection might look like.

I am grateful to the algorithm for introducing me to people like Rosen and to many other thinkers who are critical of technology — people like Jonathan Haidt, author of The Anxious Generation, and the painter August Lamm, who traded her smart phone for a dumb one. It seems like a kind of sci-fi irony when technology makes you aware of people and ideas that question the status quo.

Piedmont azalea (Rhododendron canescens)

Technology is of course what we make of it. Depending on what you like, the right things can be delivered at your door. Luddites will find other Luddites. Drama begets drama. Hatred, hate, paranoia, obsession, so forth and so on. The only problem is that this like-with-like function is designed to keep you hooked, and we are bypassing finding those connections in the real world because we have them so readily, so comfortably online.

These good voices I encounter on the web (and in books) keep encouraging me to do something radical — to make a break for it.

When I read Sermon on the Mount or the Buddhist Heart Sutra, I am reminded of the universe within — the one which could and should be governed by my higher self. I am reminded of the child who still resides in my heart who needs proper parenting, some boundaries, and someone to look up to. I know that the only way change will happen is when I decide for it to happen.

Recently, a friend told me about her experience with the Daniel Fast, a biblical-based diet found in the Book of Daniel. In the story, Daniel, a captive of King Nebuchadnezzar, refuses the rich food and wine of the king in favor of what essentially is a vegan diet. Daniel wanted to keep his temple holy and even though he was a prisoner, maintain a sense of freedom — a union with God — inside his head.

Fresh Lemon Balm (Melissa officinalis) springing up in the herb garden

Like Daniel, the practitioner of the Daniel Fast seeks to remain free in the prison of modern society. They seek a closer walk with divinity, and they wish to turn away from distraction. My friend stuck with the fast for 21 days. During that time, she dropped off of social media. When she felt the urge to break her fast, she prayed for strength. She meditated, took walks in nature, and cut out processed food. She asked herself who she really was, she asked questions and was answered. She said the experience of being so present and so bored at times was the most refreshing thing she’d experienced since childhood. The fast permanently changed her life. She cut out processed food for good, and even though she uses social media again, she doesn’t feel chained to it. There remains a kind of distance between her and the machine.

My friend is a genuine believer. I’m afraid she has fewer doubts than me and a stronger constitution. But even if I am not as quick to define what God is, I know that I would choose God over civilization any day. This culture, with its alluring rationality, is a dead-end street. It is as lost as a dog dumped on the side of a distant highway. It is largely devoid of faith. It has no meaning because it declares that there is no meaning. Its highest virtue is money. All of our truest champions have lived against it, and were composed of the kind of faith that moved mountains. I wish to live a life closer to all those great civil resisters. I want to live a life after God, not one chained to the tools of the neo-colonizers.

When the prophets of old wanted revelation, they had to leave the village and go into the wild, where the Tao flows freely. Imagine the kind of village we live in — one that is much harder to escape.

Satsuki azalea (Rhododendron indicum)

Bumble bee on Satsuki

Considering all of this, I have decided to do something radical. To put myself out there amongst the wolves. To search without distraction for the inner tour guide, and when I find him, to listen.

For 21 days, which is commonly and falsely understood to be the time it takes to break a habit (some habits take much longer to break), I will fast as much as possible from the culture and civilization that I did not choose. I will cook my own meals, meditate, pray, fast, connect with my loved ones, garden, write, and as much as possible avoid social media as well as all forms of media. I will tell myself a new story and define some clear boundaries. My aim is to diminish tech distractions and to focus my energies on particular activities that bring my life meaning and joy. I will not go to concerts or be entertained, except for watching birds. I will tune out from the noise of modern life and into the noise of nature. The one exception is that I am allowing myself to remain on substack. I love reading people’s stories, and I plan to do a lot of reading. Anyway, most of what I see on substack I would consider countercultural. I will avoid political posts for a while.

Here is a sketch of what I’m aiming for from April 1st through the 21st:

• No social media (other than substack) and no media in general, including TV, movies, news, youtube (most nervous about this one), etc.

• Diminished use of my phone and all apps in general other than for basic communication with friends and family (and other than a vocabulary app which I use daily to learn and test my understanding of words).

• A highly restricted diet of protein (unlike the Daniel fast I am allowing myself two forms of animal protein: wild caught fish (going fishing tomorrow to try and catch my limit) and free-range eggs), and local as possible fruits and vegetables. I am mainly focused on a whole-foods single-ingredient diet with no processed food whatsoever. I plan to forage what I can from the farm; there are lots of good herbs and mushrooms popping up here.

• No alcohol, tobacco, or drugs (except for a couple of cups of black coffee in the morning — I’m not insane).

• A daily exercise routine including calisthenics, weightlifting, yoga, and long walks

• Daily nature time (gardening, grounding, sunbathing, woods walking, plant loving, bird nerding, etc)

• Daily journaling and writing (I’m excited most for this and hope I can replace some of my usual distraction time with time creating)

• Daily spiritual practice (solitude, stillness, contemplation, prayer, reading, meditation, etc)

• Daily time with family and/or friends, with real human beings (working on my communication with and connection to loved ones)

All of this makes me very nervous. I understand the degree of my distraction, that most of my time on social media is not a choice at this point but is built-in. It has become a dopamine-fueled habit, which from the standpoint of body chemistry, can be dangerous to toy with. It almost feels like I’m checking myself into rehab in order to detox (almost) cold turkey. I don’t know what to expect from my reactive self, but I’m trying to stay open and brave.

I am excited in the sense that this feels like going on an epic adventure, that I am stepping out of my comfort zone, no longer fixing my addiction with smaller doses but choosing to re-write a part of the script. For better or worse, I at least need to try something radical. Part of why I’m doing this is simply to get out of the rut of daily monotony and to shake things up a bit. I feel the spiritual need to try something new, and I feel the frustration of my creative energies which aren’t given enough time and attention. Most importantly, I want to bring my attention to the things that really matter in my life.

A few days ago, before I decided to do this, I did a drawing from my oracle card deck that said I was about to endure an unexpected journey and that I needed to remain brave and innocent. Two nights ago, before doing another reading, I asked the deck out loud for the death card. I shuffled for at least twenty seconds, cut the deck in half and flipped a card over. Death.

Star of Bethlehem (Ornithogalum umbellatum)

I generally eat well and practice most of these things daily already, but it is clear to me that for all of the benefits of consuming media and social media — staying informed, feeling like an activist (without actually being one), staying “connected” and up to date with people I never see —, the costs outweigh the benefits. Social media is a drug, a sort of pest. It is an emotional roller coaster and it’s not even your ride. It does nothing for the stability, beauty, or meaning of our lives. It takes our attention away from life.

I’m lucky to be on spring break this week while I get into this new routine. I’ll eventually have to return to work and email. I will be forcefully returned to the highly dramatic lives of my students. I am hoping their lives have drama — the kind of drama that comes with living, not just living through a screen. I have already informed them of this undertaking and encouraged them to join me. I am always telling them to get off of their Satan boxes.

I’m lucky also that I had a quiet weekend to serve as a buffer. I indulged in some things I’m leaving behind. Cookies and pizza yesterday. And I allowed myself some time on instagram, breaking my Screenless Sunday ritual, knowing that I’m headed into the Twilight Zone. Tonight I will delete the social media apps from my phone (not deleting my accounts), so that when my thumb inevitably goes to find them, it will find only a ghost of what was.

Please wish me luck. I’m excited also to report from the other side. This might suck, but if I meet God, I will tell her you said hello. You can still find me here on substack if you want to chat, or please feel free to email me at jamesmurdock2@gmail.com. I will be staying away from email for the first few days, but like I said, will return to it shortly.

Please join me on this weird adventure if you wish. We can be pen pals.

Godspeed and good luck.

My daughter’s fairy garden. A place I hope to spend some time over the next three weeks.