At first I was stumped about what to say for this assignment. Cleaning my living room is about as exciting as watching grass grow. I’ve got no helpful tips or funny stories; I simply picked up the things that were out of place and put them away.

Since I was home by myself most of the day and facing down a long list of chores, I pulled up the HGTV Color Splash collection on Netflix. It was only recently added—and I’m so glad, because HGTV is one of the few things I really miss about not having cable—and I figured it might give me some inspiration. Apparently, I’d forgotten how outrageous and, let’s face it, outrageously expensive some of David Bromstad’s designs were. But I still contend that it’s worth watching just to see him create custom artwork for each project.

After watching about 10 episodes, which isn’t as bad as it sounds because each episode is only about 13 minutes long, I looked around and realized how very bare our apartment is. We have one pair of curtains (that I don’t even like very much), no rugs, barely adequate lighting, no artwork, and insufficient furniture. We don’t lack for stuff; we have books, games, electronics, craft supplies, and tools aplenty. But we lack all of things that pull a space together and make it look complete and lived in.

We have more space than we’ve ever had before. In fact, our apartment has about the same square footage as my parents’ single-family starter home. And although it’s probably hard to believe, we picked this place primarily for the location, price, and upgraded appliances, and tend to consider all the space a bonus. Don’t get me wrong, it’s very nice to have, especially when we have people come for the weekend. But moving into a large apartment from a considerably smaller one means that the things we do have seems to be floating like lonely satellites in space.

Seeing rooms like ours transformed from bland or under-furnished into dazzling spaces in a mere 15 minutes tends to be really discouraging, no matter how many times you remind yourself that the design and renovation process took a lot more time and money than the show lets on. This is only compounded when the homeowners have already decorated all of their other rooms, and this last one is just the final piece of a nearly completed puzzle.

When you’ve got an apartment where none of the rooms are even close to being finished, it’s hard to even know where to start. Do you start with the smallest space or the space that’s “furthest along” in its decorating journey, so you have a completed project more quickly? Do you start with the space you use most often, or the one that’s most visible?

To keep this sense of discouragement from spiraling out of control, I took a moment to concentrate on three things:

1. We see the shortcomings in our space, and we’re committed to working on them. I talked just a few days ago about creating a functioning landing strip, and I already know that when I have the right elements I’m going to float the furniture in the living room to create a cozier TV viewing/game playing spot. We’ve thrown around ideas for a better office configuration that accommodates furniture for a guest room. The only thing holding us back from painting is picking colors, and we’ve been talking about that a lot recently. The January Cure was just a warm-up, a way to prime our apartment for the change to come. There’s no point in beating myself up over the ways things are when we’re already on a path toward change.
2. Adding things to our space slowly allows for flexibility and change. Transforming a room in one fell swoop might be satisfying because I get to see a dramatic change, but it leaves a lot of room for disappointment and frustration. If I were to commit to changing everything at once, then I would be limited to what’s available right now. I may end up compromising on an item’s size, shape, or color in order to complete my project, or compromising my budget to secure the exact thing I want now rather than waiting for a more affordable option down the line. I’d also be committing myself to something I might think I need or love, but don’t. It can be hard enough to stomach a single bad purchase—how much more so if I had a room full of them?
3. Decorating should be a joy, not an obligation. Decorating takes time and resources, just like any other hobby. It’s certainly not required to live in a space. (Goodness knows we got by just fine for five years without buying a rug or hanging a painting.) If it’s not fun for me, then I don’t need do it. If I’d rather spend money to see a movie than save up for a lamp, I’m the one who has to sit in the dark—and if sitting in the dark doesn’t bother me, then I don’t need to regret choosing the movie over the lamp. Sometimes saving up for things to improve the apartment will be my priority, and sometimes it won’t. Sometimes I may not have a choice about it, such as on that inevitable day when our one car needs some kind of expensive maintenance. Personalizing our space should be an experience I look forward to, not a chore I dread or a task to check off.

I also remind myself that we aren’t likely to live here forever. Ideally, we’d like to buy a house in a couple of years. But we could end up moving before that, if a compelling opportunity presented itself. There are always events outside of our control. Things happen. In any case, it’s unlikely that we’ll ever “finish” this space. That’s not reason not to make it nice while we’re here, but I’d be dooming myself to failure if I made “fully decorate our apartment” a goal of mine.

I won’t lie and say that that those reminders completely alleviated my feelings about the apartment being bare and style-less, but they did take the edge off. Planning a couple of projects post-Cure helped, too. I’m looking forward to February.

What do you do when your home starts to get you down? Any quick pick-me-ups to help get you past its perceived faults? It’s totally okay if your answer is “window-shop like crazy” or “dream of buying a new house.” I’ve got nothing against a little fantasy.

Or, why I won’t be doing one.

According to the assignment summary, I should “take a break from television, computer, tablet and cell or smart phone.” The purpose of this break is to have “the experience of spending time in our homes in different ways” and to take “a rare break from the energy of the outside world finding its way into your private space.” I think these are admirable goals to have, and I certainly don’t fault anyone for pursuing them. If observing a media fast helps a person achieve those things, then I think doing one is both logical and beneficial thing.

But there are three main assumptions in the assignment that I want to tackle, because I find they crop up in a lot of the essays and exhortations about “unplugging,” and I find they bother me more than a little bit.

First, there’s the assumption that “media” only includes, or is wholly synonymous with, electronic media. When I first saw the assignment title, I wondered what I was expected to be doing all evening, since “media” in my mind includes not just television shows, movies, music, and video games, but also magazines, books, and board games. The assignment explanation clarifies that only digital entertainment is off-limits, which to me exposes a certain prejudice for non-electronic media over electronic media, as though literature delivered via printed page is inherently more valuable than that delivered via screen. Or more likely, it reveals an underlying belief that electronic media is consumed quickly and passively, whereas non-electronic media is engaged with slowly and thoughtfully. That may be true of some number of people some amount of the time, but I don’t think that it’s necessarily true, which is to say that I don’t believe electronic media can’t be engaged with slowly and thoughtfully.

Everyone has a choice about how they relate to different kinds of media. Justin and I choose to think critically whether we’re watching a movie or reading a book. Trading one for the other, when we treat both the same, seems like an arbitrary choice with no real benefit for us. So instead of recommending a media fast, I would challenge you to pause and consider why you enjoy your favorite book/show/movie game. What makes it good? What are its flaws? How would you convince someone like me to pick it up?

Second, there’s the assumption that regularly engaging with media largely precludes you from doing any other activities, or it keeps you glued to one spot in the house. Again, I’d say that may be true of some number of people some amount of the time, but I don’t think that it’s necessarily true. Most nights of the week, we watch (and discuss) some kind of show, I catch up on craft blogs via Feedly, and Justin browses his favorite gaming forums. I also usually knit while we’re doing all of those things—I like to keep my hands and my mind busy, even if they’re not working on the same things. Sometimes we’re on the couch, sometimes we’re at our desks in the office, and occasionally we take our phones to bed. We keep ourselves from getting into a rut by playing board games at the dining room table or doing crafts on the living room floor.

So instead of insisting on a new or different activity in order to use a different space, I’d suggest doing something you already enjoy but trying it out in a new spot. Chances are the space is only neglected because you found one spot that worked and had no reason to vary your, and all it takes to change things up is moving the same activity to a new location. This is a challenge I need to take on myself, because we have an armchair in our living room that is pretty much only used by guests. It’s just as comfy as our couch, but I just don’t think about sitting in it. If it turns out that the reason I don’t sit in it is because it’s missing something, like lighting or a place for a drink, then I can fix those things.

Finally, there’s the assumption that the energy of the outside world coming into your space is somehow a bad or disruptive thing. It certainly can be, but I choose to think that I have control over what comes in and what doesn’t, and I can filter things so that as much good and as little bad enters as possible.

As an introvert, it’s easy for me to shut myself in for days at a time without talking to anyone besides Justin, and I’m hardly bothered, because I find being out among people tiring at best and completely draining at worst. But if I also close off all of my online connections, I no longer have access to many of the things that inspire and motivate me. Since I’m already much more likely to avoid people than to spend too much time connected, I prefer not to block out what outside energy I am letting in. So instead of promoting a temporary retreat to your private space and hanging a “Do Not Disturb” sign, I’d encourage you to consider what you’re already letting in and see if there’s anything that ought not to get through in the first place. Whether that’s junk mail and endless email coupons or a “friend” that’s bringing you down is up to you.

For those reasons, I chose not to observe media fast tonight, nor do I expect I’ll be doing one any time in the future. I’m going to concentrate on improving the quality of my interaction with various media instead of fretting about the quantity.

Two pieces I enjoyed related to this topic are the New Yorker’s article The Pointlessness of Unplugging and PBS Idea Channel’s video There’s No Such Thing As Offline.

Of course, your mileage may vary, and I’m interested to hear what others think about the idea of a media fast.