This episode explores what changes when we stop performing our lives online and begin relating to attention differently. Sara speaks with Amelia about leaving social media, reclaiming agency, and understanding attention as something relational rather than transactional. The conversation examines how digital platforms shape preferences, identity, and burnout. It also looks at what becomes possible when attention is treated as a sacred, personal resource.
In this episode, we explore:
- How leaving social media reshapes attention, creativity, and daily life
- The difference between paying attention and giving attention
- Attention as a relational and ethical act rather than a commodity
- How algorithms shape preferences and reinforce sameness
- Rebuilding connection, rhythm, and agency outside digital platforms
Key takeaways
- Attention is not only an economic resource but a fundamental way humans relate to the world
- Social media trains attention through behavioral manipulation, often beneath conscious awareness
- Stepping away from platforms can reveal grief, creativity, and deeper presence
- Convenience and constant stimulation can mask unmet emotional needs
- Reclaiming attention involves noticing patterns rather than forcing behavior change
Resources mentioned
- Get Amelia Hruby’s new book: Your Attention is Sacred
- Introductory workshop: How to Create a Simple, Sacred, Self-Led Business
Episode FAQs
What is the main focus of this episode?
The episode centers on attention—how it is shaped by social media, how it becomes commodified, and what changes when it is reclaimed as a personal and relational resource.
Is this episode about quitting social media entirely?
No. The conversation explores awareness, agency, and choice. Leaving social media is discussed as one possible outcome, not a prescription.
How does attention relate to burnout and scarcity?
The episode connects cultural ideas of productivity and scarcity with personal exhaustion, showing how economic frameworks influence how people experience time, money, and worth.
Who would benefit most from this conversation?
Listeners who feel fragmented, overstimulated, or disconnected from their attention—particularly those navigating creative work, business, or leadership in digital spaces.
What does reclaiming attention actually involve?
It begins with noticing patterns, understanding emotional needs, and creating rhythms that support presence, rest, and meaningful connection rather than constant performance.
Read the Full Transcript
Hi, Amelia. Welcome.
Thanks so much for having me.
We always start these conversations with the same question: how did you start your day today?
This morning I woke up when my dog left the room, which happens every morning. She wakes up somewhere between five and 6:30 a.m. and trots to the front door. My spouse takes her on a walk, and I have a few moments to recalibrate and wake up. I got a cup of coffee and went out to the garden for a bit, both to look at the plants and to take some photos for an interview I’d just done about gardening your attention.
I discovered two new black swallowtail caterpillars on my parsley plant, which I was very excited about. I haven’t harvested much parsley this year, but the plant has been home to so many caterpillars and butterflies. I’ve really enjoyed seeing them in the garden.
That sounds like a very mindful morning, and it connects directly to what we’re talking about today and your new book, Your Attention Is Sacred. The book began as a podcast about leaving social media and has evolved into something more philosophical and even spiritual. Can you talk about that evolution?
I left social media four and a half years ago. At the time, it was a very personal and practical decision. I felt I couldn’t be there anymore, for many reasons. I started my podcast Off the Grid because people kept asking how I left and how it was going.
When I sat down to write the book, what came through was a much deeper understanding of how my life had shifted since leaving social media, along with grief for how social media had changed my ability to pay attention. There were waves of grief—first for what I gave up, like connections and access to information. I had to rediscover how to engage with my local community.
As I unplugged, I realized what I was gaining: a clearer quality of attention and presence. I still use my phone, but I’m no longer pulled into performing my life. My life has become more intimate. Attention became something I wanted to reframe—not just as currency, but as a sacred window into how we experience and tend to the world.
You quote Simone Weil, who said attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity. How do you now understand attention as relational or ethical?
I think of attention as tending to the world. We can’t give attention to everything, but attention is how we see and experience what we do engage with. I emphasize the sacred nature of attention because it allows for a more expansive view.
One shift I encourage is moving from “paying attention” to “giving attention.” Language matters. Paying implies transaction. Giving implies care and relationship. When attention becomes an offering rather than a commodity, it becomes ethical. That shift opens up how we relate to each other, to healing, and to care.
Since reading your book, I’ve been paying more attention to my attention. It feels exhausting how attention is constantly pulled in different directions. Your book emphasizes that our attention is ours.
My hope is that the book recenters people in their agency. Not giving attention to social media can be a powerful choice. I also want people to reclaim the joy of attention. There are many modes of attention—deep focus, wandering, multitasking—and all are human.
The harm comes when attention is reduced to one quantifiable metric: watch time, scroll time, engagement. That reduction isn’t nourishing.
You connect scarcity economics with personal burnout and household stress. Can you explain that connection?
I began by studying what we mean when we talk about the economy. In the U.S., we tend to define it through productivity and scarcity. Scarcity economics teaches us there’s never enough—never enough money, never enough resources.
That belief filters down into personal life, creating anxiety and self-blame. Historically, economics referred to household management, not scarcity. Seeing that shift helped me understand that my money anxiety wasn’t a personal failure but a cultural inheritance. That insight opened the door to thinking differently about money and attention.
Do you think you gained this depth of insight because you left social media?
Yes. Being off social media gave me more time and space to think deeply. It also helped me disentangle beliefs I had about myself. Looking back at purchases I made while active on social media showed me how influenced I really was, even when I believed I wasn’t.
These platforms are expert behavioral manipulators. Leaving them allowed me to see the water I’d been swimming in. I also have a background in philosophy, which gave me tools for this kind of analysis.
You talk about stepping away from convenience and noticing what comes up emotionally. What have you noticed over five years off social media?
Initially, I had a lot of creative energy. I’d been producing content constantly, and that energy had to go somewhere. Later, I had to slow down and return to a human pace. That’s when my attention really began to heal.
I could read books again, walk without documenting everything, and stop surveilling my own life. After a couple of years, loneliness surfaced. I had to build relationships intentionally rather than relying on passive connection.
Writing this book during year four made me deeply grateful I wasn’t on social media. It required sustained attention. Now, I rarely think about the apps. I no longer perform moments for an audience. I’m just present.
You use the metaphor of gardening attention and stewarding rhythms. What rhythms have emerged?
Gardening taught me about seasonal rhythms—planting, growing, harvesting, resting. Social media has no seasons. I now build rest into my work and relationships.
My friendships, creative practices, and body all move in cycles. I pay attention to my energy, including my menstrual cycle, and plan accordingly. Life has many rhythms once you stop forcing constant output.
You write about algorithms shaping preferences and creating loops of similarity. What does it mean to get out of your algorithm?
Algorithms reinforce what keeps us engaged, creating echo chambers. Randomizing content doesn’t break the loop because algorithms already use randomness.
To get out of your algorithm, you need off-app inputs—shared experiences, conversations, synchronous moments. Jenny Odell describes listening to the radio instead of Spotify to encounter unexpected music. That’s what breaking out looks like.
You offer reflective questions for people considering leaving social media. How should someone begin?
Start with noticing. Notice when you pick up your phone and why. Write it down without judgment. Then notice how you feel while scrolling. Set a timer, scroll, and write down what you see and feel.
This builds awareness of what needs are being met and what problems social media is convincing you that you have. Awareness comes before choice.
Does leaving social media have to be all or nothing?
It’s different for everyone. I don’t judge anyone’s use. But all the evidence I’ve seen suggests that manipulation is built into these platforms. Even minimal use involves behavioral influence.
I want people to seriously consider both personal and societal harms and make their own choice. That choice is the sovereignty piece.
What is your current growing edge?
Putting out this book has pulled me back toward my phone. I’m working with that—putting it down more, even in a season of abundance. I still want to give my attention to what’s present.
