In the last post I did something I knew was gonna push people out: I questioned whether the screens around you were clean or not, and whether or not you knew how to clean them.
That is, I questioned whether or not the solution to a very minor problem was within your control or not.
When I posted it, the number of people “liking” it on Facebook went down.
I chuckled, laughed at how bad my phone screen was (ick), and looked up how to clean phone and computer screens.
Here’s how:
- Use a clean microfiber cloth to wipe things down. Dirty ones carry dust, which you don’t want to grind into a screen surface; it’ll scratch.
- If there is muck or streaks or other ick that remains, don’t use water on it, use eyeglasses cleaner.
- You can get a pack of microfiber cloths for $5-10 and a box of eyeglasses cleaner for about the same.
- Or, practically speaking, you can use a clean, soft cotton t-shirt and maaaaybe a tiny bit of water for maintenance. There’s a risk of scratching your screen, but it’s smallish.
- Don’t use paper products; anything with wood fibers in it will leave scratches—people use wood because that stuff is tough.
And then I almost decided, this morning, not to clean my screens.
Because it felt wrong.
I knew the trap I set, I knew I would need to overcome it, and I almost didn’t anyway.
(Shit—I missed my laptop and e-reader. Back in a sec.)
(Update: the laptop is in a room where someone else is sleeping and will have to wait until later.)
I didn’t actually want to clean my screens. I wanted to be able to write about it, but I didn’t actually want to DO it. I’ve set myself a rule, though, that if I’m gonna put advice in these AMP posts, I have to follow through as best I can before I can move on.
I didn’t clean anything perfectly, mind you. My phone case is so scratched that it’s hard for me to tell whether it’s clean-clean or just “better.”
The point being:
It’s easy and cheap to care for your screens (whether or not you use microfiber or t-shirt material).
And yet it’s easy to ignore a dirty screen, even when it bothers you.
Stuff builds up until it invisibly crosses the line from “tolerable” to “intolerable,” or, rather, until we shift our line of “tolerable” further and further out until nothing is really “intolerable.”
We’re strong. We can learn how to tolerate almost anything.
It’s easy to look at how fucked up the world is and say, “Someone should do something about that.”
And then do nothing, or do something that’s ineffective busywork.
It’s easy to look at your screens and go, “I should do something about that…someday.”
And then do nothing, or do something that’s ineffective busywork.
Even when it’s cheap and easy to fix and the learning curve is shallow.
Why don’t we do the smart thing? Like taking ten seconds to clean a phone screen that’s been bugging us for weeks? Or months?
Because we’re too busy doing something else?
Or is “too busy doing something else” an excuse or distraction?
When is the right time to care for your screens?
When is the right time to care for—that is, not to be emotionally invested, but to take actions to maintain—anything?
Why do we resist exerting care specifically in low-effort situations that are bugging us?
I noticed something this morning as I was cleaning my screens.
I wiped off my keyboard while I was at it.
I didn’t just stop at caring for the screens; I cared for something else. Once I started caring, I didn’t stop right away. I didn’t go nuts and clean my whole living space or anything. I just did one more small job that had been bugging me.
I felt good about cleaning those screens. I felt good about cleaning my keyboard.
It can feel good to care for things, when it’s your choice to care for them. Maybe not in the moment. (And definitely not beforehand, blah.) But afterward.
So why do we resist doing so?
I think choosing to care for stuff can feel threatening for a couple of reasons.
One, we’re already busy doing stuff for other people, or to connect to other people, or in accordance with values that were imposed on us, now or in the past.
We’re already overloaded with tasks and values and “traditions” we didn’t really consent to—that is, stuff we only consented to under pressure.
Two, choosing to care for stuff that conveniences you, solves your problems, and reflects your values threatens the ability of other people to extract that not-really-valued work from you.
When you’re solving your own problems, no matter how small, it shows that you value yourself and your own perspective more than you value someone else’s.
WHICH IS NORMAL AND HEALTHY.
Some people respect that. Others don’t.
Something to watch for:
If someone gives you shit you for not caring for yourself and yet doesn’t support your efforts to care for yourself (they’ll often try to get you to do things the “correct” way), then they are not trying to get you to care for yourself.
Something else is going on.
And when you resist whatever is going on by caring for yourself in ways you value, you will get pushback.
I’m not actually here to guilt you about having dirty screens. That’s not the point here.
The point is that it might not actually feel or even literally BE safe for you to care for yourself, all the way down to cleaning your damn phone screen on a regular basis, because some damn asshole is going to yell at you about using your fucking t-shirt instead of a microfiber cloth with glasses cleaner. Or whatever.
The sense of unease we feel about actually making real, effective change is real.
That is what I want you to notice.
(P.S., Okay, the laptop screen is done now, too.)
You can find the first post in the series here.
