Things are often rather slow in the first couple of months of each year work-wise. I’m not bragging (haha) but often there’s a brief lull after the festive rollercoaster of solo business. Not always; sometimes I leave the tax return as a sticky, out-of-date treat for the last week of January instead of sensibly doing it when it’s fresh in May, there might be organisation and admin to catch up on after the Christmas rush, but generally it’s a time for catching up, doing jobs I have made myriad excuses not to do and looking hopefully at the year ahead. This year I even did a complete clear out of the home studio and did heaps of shredding, recycling, binning, reorganising and repairing. My laptop was sent away for two weeks to get a replacement battery and during that time I didn’t keep a close eye on my emails. The laptop returned and aside from the noticeable speed increase on my digital demands,
I observed the sheer volume of subscriber emails I received. There were hundreds of them and they were almost all a complete waste of my time.
I unearthed yet another generic email from a promotion company trying to furnish me with personalised plastic goods; mugs, four colour pens, cheap office equipment and other planet choking horrors. How have I managed to unwittingly sign up to so many of these companies that clog my inbox with trash I never even read? In fact, did I even sign up to them…? I feel like these emails are happening to me rather than I am choosing to receive them. The emails are almost invariably bursting with the promise of job opportunities, print deals, ‘unmissable’ products, workshops and petitions, but each one I clicked past made a tiny impression, left a micro-feeling that stayed with me and often stunk up my mood. It might make me feel guilty, harassed, stupid, behind the times, poor or just sad. Nothing kills my buzz like an urgent email about something I don’t want on ebay, or a depressing pesticide use petition update. OK, some automated emails are helpful, interesting and lead to positive interactions, but they are in the minority.
I took a stand. I started unsubscribing them. If they have no place in my life and only feel negative, they go.
I think I have successfully jettisoned at least five or six since new year and I intend to continue until my inbox feels tidy. The best is yet to come. Now I have left those emails behind me, I have carved out little moments of time to be freed up for something else. I have created space, not only in my inbox but also in my mind, at my desk. There are so many things out of my control in life, but this feels like something I can have a say in and can opt out of. I’m attempting to escape the constant drain on my mental bandwidth and the leaking of attention into crevasses in my inbox. I want to cultivate my limited time and use it for good things.
I’m clearing the deadwood of cybertrash to make way for the new growth of ideas, good moods, time away from a screen and just… not having to feel bad.
This clear out is a gift to my future self, a way of clearing things up so Rosie-two-months-from-now is unburdened by the micro-niggles of emails leaking persuasive junk. That’s the plan. Inevitably online purchases, petition signing and networking will lead to another infestation next year, but I’ll keep up my unsubscribing habit to meet it.