I deleted Instagram from my phone last Monday.

Not for good, just for a week. I needed to quiet the noise. I found myself mindlessly opening the app numerous times a day, sometimes mere minutes apart. And, I realized something.

While I can most definitely fall into the trap of wanting that which I do not have, my propensity is not to envy things, but rather to envy the [perceived] happiness of others. When I scroll through the pictures on my feed I see people living life to the fullest and enjoying every moment. The perfectly coifed hair and smiling faces portraying a still-life of nonstop fun and enjoyment.

And slowly, ever so slowly, I begin to wonder why my life is not as exciting or momentous as others.

But, that’s a lie. A big lie that social media wants us to believe. When we allow discontentment to creep into our lives we begin to crave more and more. Our society is one of excess, of bigger is better. In a matter of seconds we can see what other people are doing, the places they are visiting and how they are decorating their homes. We now know all that we never even knew we were missing. And, it turns out, we’ve been missing out on a lot.

So, sometimes it’s good to find a way to breathe and take notice, to live in the current reality of the present.

For a picture can never fully capture the happiness, the experience, the full emotion. It is simply a glimpse, and often a professionally lighted, perfectly staged one at that.

Pictures are necessary and good, and have a place. And, while I am not a gifted photographer, I do enjoy them.

But, I have to remember that most of my cherished memories will never see the pages of Instagram because a photo would only disrupt and put a layer of poses over the beautifully authentic.

Like sitting outside the closed gelato shop, our treats long finished, enveloped in the warmth of the Alabama summer with two of my dearest friends. My soul at rest, no rush, no hurry. Perfectly contented with the ease of the conversation that no one felt need to dominate nor monopolize.

Nothing extraordinary, just happiness found in the peace of knowing and being known, of listening to and being truly heard.

Neither a moment that others would be particularly interested in viewing, nor one that I would willingly hand over to the general public to give their approval with a like, or not.

Sacred moments happen every day, and no matter how hard we try Instagram will never do them justice. Pictures will always pale in comparison to the words, touch, expressions and silences shared between friends and loved ones.

Simply, beautifully ordinary.

So, I missed a week of scrolling through the moments of others in order to remind myself to be present in the only moments I will ever truly know. My own.

Maybe it’s not Instagram for you, but perhaps there is something you need need to do in order to keep discontentment at bay.

For happiness can never be found in the quest for more, it is only experienced when we find satisfaction in the seemingly mundane rhythms of the ordinary.

Our beautifully ordinary lives.