On March 7, 2022 I realized that I was addicted to the news. The dark days of the pandemic had mostly faded into the past, but instead of taking a moment to rejoice, our collective focus shifted without missing a beat to the next looming disaster—the war in Ukraine. Like many Americans, even though I couldn't pinpoint Ukraine on a map, I jumped into research mode, eager to form an opinion on this fresh conflict. It wasn't enough for me to simply know "where I stood" on the issue. I needed to possess the correct interpretation of the facts and be more informed than my neighbor. Admittedly, I was clueless about the intricate geopolitical histories of Russia and Ukraine, but that didn't deter me! I plunged into the subject, exploring NATO's role in the region, the Bucharest Summit Declaration, and immersing myself in chapters and hours of video by John Mearsheimer. After a few days, I had formulated an opinion on the war. Of course, I wasn't actually generating any original thoughts; I was merely choosing which voices to listen to and parroting their information as if it were my own. But, I had to admit, I was quite adept at this. I could usually absorb more information, process it, and recall it better than others—a "gift" I had honed over many years of being opinionated on complex subjects. This was precisely what I did during the pandemic as well... Then I stumbled upon this meme: The meme struck me like a bolt to the heart, encapsulating my essence entirely. What was I truly doing? I recognized that I was treating this like a sport, a contest of "who could be right" on any given topic. My research served as practice for the competition. Even more troubling, I was part of a "team" I hadn't even acknowledged. I was engaging in tribalism. I found myself choosing between being "pro-war in Ukraine" or "anti-war in Ukraine." During the pandemic, I picked sides as "pro-vaccine" or "anti-vaccine." And, inevitably, whether consciously or unconsciously, I was aligning myself with a political tribe. If I was "anti-vaccine," I was "pro-Trump." If I was "pro-lockdowns," I was "pro-Biden." If I donned a mask, it's likely I had a Ukrainian flag displayed on my car. As a natural contrarian, I did my best to confound people by mixing and matching my beliefs. Perhaps I'd be pro-vaccine, anti-lockdown, anti-Ukraine war, and still help send an ambulance to Ukrainian citizens. That would surely baffle them! The whole experience was draining. And what purpose did it serve? Did my opinion on any of these issues genuinely make a difference? Of course not. It was merely a sport. I was picking a side, a team, a tribe. So, on March 7, 2022 I realized that I was addicted to the news and I decided to stop consuming it. This was still early in my grief and depression from my friend Joe dying. I was anxious to try anything that might help fix my symptoms and my “information diet” was one of the first things I changed. How Did I Start My News Diet? * The first thing I had to do was unfollow or mute my friends on social media that constantly talked about the news. (I’m sorry) This resulted in my Facebook Friends List going from about 2,000 people to now just about 400. I trimmed a lot of people. * I used the “mute” keywords feature on Twitter. This is a great feature where you can hide any words or topics that you don’t want to see on your feed. * I stopped tuning into the nightly TV newscast. * I tried my best to stop talking about these subjects with my friends and family. * I unsubscribed from any newsletters or emails that were about politics or news. * I set up “Way Of Life” to track my ability to ignore the news. Everynight I would rate myself on the task: “Avoid Politics & News! Focus on what I can control.” If I did a good job on it, I would rate it “Yes” and it would turn green. If I didn’t do so well, I would rate it “No” and it would turn Red for the day. Rating myself every day using the Way O