2025 Q4 - The Spirit of Reconnecting with Analog

(3-5 min read / 6 min listen)

Jan 12, 2026

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-6:00

I love what the Internet allows me to do, but…

… When did several notebooks in various colors get replaced by a TV, computer monitors, a laptop, a tablet, and a phone? Wasn’t the coolest part about smartphones supposed to be all of that stuff, plus a camera, GPS navigator, and — oh yeah, an actual telephone — in your pocket?

I am surrounded by screens where I once was surrounded by paper. And it’s not like I hate it: “Undo” has rescued me from certain doom and “copy/paste” has saved me hours of labor. Not to mention the physical space (and trees?) no longer being wasted on piles of stuff that’s just going to be thrown away.

But with the everything-everywhere-all-at-once-ness of the Internet, I get overstimulated. What’s worse is that’s just default; not even accounting for the way digital media hijacks our natural psychological wiring to notice danger, confronting us using anger and fear, competing for our attention to scan even the most benign (and too often useless) posts.

Perhaps by virtue of being an Elder Millennial with an analog childhood, or by the consequence my Queerness and Transness giving me extra practice in resistance to internalizing the pressures of the status quo, or maybe even just being too introverted to enjoy the siren’s song of social media, my personal relationship to screens and what they provide me is actually, I think, relatively healthy.

But still, it’s an anxiety machine.

I’m very into doing things with intention. And I turned to one of my favorite crafts this quarter as a way to temper my anxiety about the cultural moment we are in. There is so much fear, hatred, division, blame, and pain, and all so close to the surface. I found myself struggling to resource myself. I reached out for support, worked through it in therapy, and found myself rekindling a hobby from my childhood: knotting friendship bracelets.

It started with my old stash of string (embroidery floss and craft cord, for crafty types!), pulled from my drawer of art supplies. I remembered all the basics, but forgot some of the cooler patterns I’d knotted before. The Internet, naturally, provided inspiration and thousands of patterns from bracelet knotters all over the world. I made a handful and gave them out to my polycule, thinking eh, everyone gets one and then I’ll stop cuz my string will be gone.

But I got hooked!

I found myself knotting instead of doom-scrolling. I felt the joy and excitement of puzzle-solving a pattern instead of within a video game. I admired the beauty of each knot, like a pixel, contributing to a larger design, but decidedly NOT on a screen.

And the spirit!

The spirit of connection, optimism, and good will in the intention of making not just a circle of string, but a “Friendship Bracelet” — something encircling, embracing, connecting, knots as both literal and figurative ties… OK that is as metaphorical as I’ll get, but in short, it has had an appreciable impact on helping me get a grip on my anxiety, and feeling once again empowered, creative, and determined. So, naturally, I bought more string.

But then I suddenly had 34 friendship bracelets.

Listen, I am grateful to have at least 34 friends, but I also want to fund my new anti-anxiety stratagem. So I’m selling them! My friend Dee — who for similar reasons, began designing and sewing upcycled fashion from thrift store hauls — started a store when her creations garnered enough interest. (I’m a proud owner of several of her one-of-a-kind, hand-made designs!) so when I gifted her a bracelet and asked if I might sell some at her brand-new brick-and-mortar shop, she was enthusiastic. Find her designs (and mine!) at Dead Lady Vintage.