What if I told you there is an app on your phone that helps you to teleport into different universes? Each world is unique. One tap evokes feelings of love. In another, you plan a trip with your best friends. Another might be about your family where you catch glimpses of the lives your loved ones are living.
With a tap, you can return to high school, relive an unforgettable trip through the Alps, or reconnect with the part of you that loves to move.
This app is likely causing you a lot of frustration, though. Having all of these worlds at your fingertips feels like a burden. It's overwhelming. You might want to throw away your phone and never have to open it again. Who needs technology after all?
I am talking about WhatsApp.It has become my favorite app on my phone. It sits at the centre of my communication with friends and loved ones all over the world. I ask for help, share my excitement, brainstorm about businesses, connect my friends with each other, see my parents hiking, stay in touch with the men’s group I am in, organise trips, and so much more.
But the sentiment I hear from most of my friends is the opposite. They describe digital communication as a Sisyphean task. The inbox is full. It takes hours to clean it up, only for it to be full again in a few days. The cycle never ends.
I used to feel the same. The thought of replying to people was giving me anxiety. My inbox was full across four different apps. I could have continued to fight it or I could have found a way to trick my brain into enjoying the process.
I realised not every message needs a reply straight away. I read every message within the hour, but sometimes I take weeks to respond. If there is no urgency to it, or the person is not in my physical proximity, it does not need my immediate attention.
With some people, I feel excitement, so I might reply more frequently. Sometimes I send voice notes, sometimes long texts, or I make the occasional phone call. I do not follow fixed rules. I try to sense what form of communication best serves that particular relationship in that particular moment.
I have one rule though. I always reply to every message, even if it takes 3 months. I like to respect the energy the other person put into the message.
But the bigger shift was a reframe. How lucky am I that I have people reaching out? They took 10 minutes to record a voice note sharing their excitement about a new project, they want to spend time with me, or they are just curious about my life. It is a big privilege to have people who care about me.
A lot of my favorite moments in life started with a message or the creation of a group chat. Take my recent trip to Latvia. All four of us live in different parts of the world. While we were together, it was easy to plan a potential trip. But when we all left Switzerland, suddenly the connection was in jeopardy.
While the energy for this shared experience was still high, I created a group. I wanted to set things in motion. No flights booked at this stage, just a placeholder for the envisioned plan.
As the trip was getting closer, I could sense the group coming alive. A few weeks before the trip, my friend Marcis started sharing plans. While reading his message, I could feel things moving inside me. I could imagine us kayaking through the Latvian forest, sleeping in a tent, exploring Riga and cooking together. The thought of it filled me with joy.
As soon as we landed, the group became fully alive. We were chatting daily, sharing plans and pictures. The group started to become a digital home for everything we were experiencing together. When I finally post the photographs I have yet to edit, the group might come alive again.
When my friends read the message and decide to engage with the group, they might suddenly feel the magic we co-created together. When I read their responses, a part of me will remember the specialness of those moments.
This is not unique to one trip. Every chat contains a world. Some are active every day, some have been silent for years. Some feel like home, and in others I feel a contraction in my chest when I step inside. Some chats hold relationships that have ended. Others become vessels for a future I dream about.
Each one changes my internal state. Some shift it by a degree, others turn it around entirely. What feels alive when I enter that universe? Which ones do I open out of hope? Where do I want to exert control? What am I looking for?
I love technology, as long as it helps bring me closer to life. But I could spend all day on WhatsApp, planning, dreaming, enquiring into the lives of people who are not next to me. I could feel connected to them while barely paying attention to the people and possibilities around me.
But at the same time, most of life happens in the physical world. If all those conversations only happen digitally, I shield myself from the real world.
Nothing replaces physical connection with the people I love. It is messy. We often hurt each other and misunderstand behaviours, but there is also a lot of joy in sharing life with people. It makes me feel incredibly alive and connected to something bigger than me.
WhatsApp can be a vessel for love, memory, and real connection. It can also become a place where I hide from the life directly in front of me. So I ask myself before I decide to enter a world: does this conversation bring me closer to life, or does it help me avoid it?
What do you feel when you open your messages? The weight of everyone you need to reply to, the joy of having people who want to share their life with you, or a bit of both? I am curious to hear from you.
See you next week,
Robert.