I used to make it a point to stay informed about current events. I read newspapers, magazines, and watched the news. Then as finances got tighter and life became more hectic, I dropped my subscriptions. And at some point, probably during my billionth move in a two year period, I left my television sitting on the side of the road along with a lot of other stuff I got tired of lugging around.
And a funny thing happened. The world didn’t come to an end. In fact, my anxiety level dropped considerably. I was no longer being fed a steady diet of tragedies that I could do nothing about. And if something was urgent or actionable, somehow I always found out. Either I’d hear it on the radio or it would be trending on the internet or a friend would tell me.
Normally I would strongly discourage operating from a position of ignorance, and indeed, it’s important to be aware to a certain degree or the bad guys will win. But is it necessary to hear about panic-making theories that may or may not come to pass? Do I really care about celebrity scandals? How often do I need to be shown that the milk of human kindness seems to be drying up?
The media want you to be afraid. The more afraid you are, the more you want to know. The more you want to know, the more you seek them out. Sometimes I feel like a puppet on a string.
I’m getting older and I’m tired. I never thought I’d say this, but ignorance really is bliss. And I could use a bit more bliss.