Checking Email in Bed

Let me tell you about my bad behavior

I use the Gmail app on my phone. Theoretically I have a limit of 30 minutes per day on it—but I pretty easily ignore that when prompted. Checking email on my phone is more compulsive than useful and I feel better when I keep it in check.

While I’m on my mini-sabbatical I have my work account toggled off on the app. I’ve got a nice vacation responder up and truly don’t have anything I need to worry about in that inbox. Any real emergency would be able to reach me via phone call or text.

Tell me why then a few nights ago at 10:30 at night I was looking at my work email while lying in bed.¹

Truly, why.

Josie doesn’t check email in bed and look how happy she is

I was bored, I was tired, I wanted to know what was going on. And I saw the usual stuff I could ignore, but I also saw a notification that someone had unsubscribed from our email list. Not that big of a deal, so I clicked through.

Terrible, terrible idea. You don’t need details to know that checking in on someone who doesn’t want to be connected to my church community any more might be a little emotionally fraught. This one happened to make me feel stressed and sad and responsible and generally bad.

I didn’t have to look, but I did.

I was thinking of this poor choice while sitting at a concert with my spouse this past weekend. The concert happened to take place in a neighboring UCC church to my own. There was no way my brain was going to be able to fully turn off my curiosity about what was happening at this church. I was looking at their website, snooping through their bulletin boards, and taking the long route from the basement bathroom to just try and gather more intel. I briefly pondered how I might be able to see a copy of their budget.

Why was I not just enjoying the concert?

You can likely tell the difference, that having a little curiosity while at a community concert is different than tanking a night’s sleep over a single email. Both share a common thread of me needing to know more.

Weirdly, I think the solution to all of this might be a spiritual one. I know from the wisdom of others that there is great value in being comfortable in spaces of not knowing. I do not always have to be the center of all knowledge. I can feel the boredom and discomfort of waiting for a concert to start or letting my body be ready for sleep.

A limit on the Gmail app doesn’t really address what it means for me to be present. Shifting between roles, often several in a day, requires me to not split my mind into worrying about what a church person has emailed me while I’m teaching or thinking about newsletter analytics while preaching. I can be fully me in the moment I’m in, sometimes joyful, sometimes bored, sometimes sad. I don’t always need work to fill that space.

Practicing part-time ministry is practicing presence. To the work of ministry, sure, but to all else that is meaningful.

Pray that I can grow in my attentiveness to rest and recreation and I’ll pray for you, too.

What I’m reading

I tore through Fourth Wing by Rebecca Yarros after many months of it being on hold. It’s almost an understatement to call this a Sarah Maas read-alike. I’m personally a sucker for a chunky fantasy romance—especially if it doesn’t hold up to too close of scruntinty. If you made me analyze this book of dragons and telepathic communication and smoldering looks, I’d probably have some criticisms. But as it stands I read it in front of our fireplace with both cats napping on the couch and it was perfect.

What life looks like

Fall flowers

1. At least I’m not alone? https://www.inc.com/john-brandon/why-62-percent-of-millennials-check-their-email-in-bed-its-about-same-in-bathroom.html