We live in an age where a person knows everything about the world… except himself.
He follows the news of every continent, analyzes crises, memorizes the details of strangers’ lives on screens — yet cannot spare ten minutes to ask: What is happening inside me?
Today, one does not need to leave the room to consume an entire world; a small screen is enough. But this constant exposure to light comes with a cost. A systematic review published in JAMA Psychiatry (2022) — involving dozens of studies — found that increased screen time among children and adolescents is associated with higher rates (albeit weak statistically) of anxiety, depression, and behavioral difficulties. The message is not in the number alone, but in the direction: the further we drift from ourselves, the more the self pays the price in silence.
At Stanford University, another side of the problem emerged: media multitasking — watching, scrolling, and commenting all at once — correlates with weaker attention and poorer memory. Everything becomes capable of pulling you away… until you forget what you wanted in the first place. The more a person lives alert to every notification, the harder it becomes to hear the sound within. When attention fragments, the sense of self fragments with it.
Reports such as Status of Mind from the UK’s Royal Society for Public Health show that heavy social media use is linked with increased anxiety, depression, and negative body image among youth. A generation measuring itself by likes and filtered comparisons often ends up feeling deeply “less” than everyone else. Thus, a person forgets himself while trying to match a digital mold that was never made for him.
In contrast, psychology speaks of something simple: the power of silence. Research and expert commentary suggest that small, intentional periods of solitude — away from digital noise — reduce stress, reorganize thoughts, and restore clarity of identity and decision-making. Sometimes, an hour a week of quiet reflection, a phone-free walk, or honest journaling is enough to noticeably strengthen self-awareness and psychological resilience.
The irony is that the path to “self-discovery” is not a paid online course, but a few sincere moments with oneself. To ask: What truly exhausts me? What do I want — not what the audience expects of me? Who am I when the screen turns off and only my conscience remains?
We are not required to flee from the modern world, nor to break our screens. But we are required to prevent them from swallowing us whole. To set aside time in which we offer no performance, but simply sit with ourselves like a long-awaited guest. To teach our children that conscious solitude is not a punishment but a skill — and that whoever cannot sit with himself will forever search for himself in others’ eyes, and never find him.
The gravest thing that can happen to a human being is not ignorance of the world… but forgetting himself while memorizing everything else.
And whoever wishes to reclaim himself in this fast age should begin with a few sincere minutes of silence… before the next tap on the screen.
