The Beauty of a Commercial Break

I don’t know about you, but I love a good Netflix binge. I can go all-in on a show, immersed in it. It consumes my awareness. No commercials, no breaks, just one episode after another. An endless loop of drama. I’m not saying it’s good for me, but there is something very compelling. A pressure to “get to the end.” A commitment to the problems of the characters. As if nothing else matters. The laundry can wait. Nature will be there tomorrow. That book I want to read staring at me from across the room. Sucked in, almost trapped. 

Streaming media is the norm, and we can feel entitled to this type of consumption. And maybe more than that, we can feel obligated or have a sense of duty to witness the characters or story. Commercials feel like an intrusion on my “right” to be immersed in my show. And don’t even get me started on the weekly drop. Rude. 

We all know bingeing is not good. We emerge from the binge greasy haired and glassy eyed, questioning our life choices. And yet…it’s just so easy to get sucked in. 

In some ways, we treat our lives the same way. We binge our problems like never-ending Netflix episodes. No commercial breaks, no season finale. We feel obliged to wallow in our storylines as if they are the only thing that exists. Our worry takes center stage and we are captivated. Held hostage to never look away. As if betraying this season of our lives will result in…cancellation? 

Commercials have a bad rap. They disrupt our attention, they sell us things we don’t need, they manipulate our children into becoming smoking, brand-loving, mindless consumers. All bad for sure. But maybe commercials do something else. 

They break the spell. 

They give us a reason to get up and get a glass of water. 

They remind us that there is life outside the show. 

They provide a tiny reset. 

Few of our lives are as exciting or scary or sad or funny as a Netflix show. And yet, we are just as consumed by it. We binge on our experiences as if they are the only thing happening, often unable to see the perspective that I can be having a problem in one area of life, and have a perfectly lovely experience in another area of life. I can have a commercial break, pause the show, or even (gasp) turn the channel of my attention to something else. 

If you live with a small child, you have probably seen them “turn the channel” so abruptly it’s confusing. We might be in the deep dark trenches of an existential crisis around the inadequate size of a chocolate chip cookie that will change the course of history and then BAM! Just like magic, the channel changes and we are admiring a blue bird out the window that fills our body with pure joy. What. Just. Happened? And before we can even calibrate, they turn the channel again. Keep up, mama. 

While it might be head spinning, there is some freedom in that. To be able to move on. In our adult lives, most of us would argue that our worries and concerns are not something we can just “move on” from. As concerning as too-small cookies may be, that concern can crumble and disappear. My bills won’t do that. Our relationships need ongoing attention. Job insecurity, cost of living, changes in marriages, grief and loss, politics…oh, politics. We can’t turn those off. 

Part of being a human means experiencing and navigating unpleasant, confusing, and even painful experiences. But no one ever said we had to BINGE them. There is no rule that says I have to feel these things exclusively all the time. But like Netflix, our problems are masters at holding our attention. There is a myth that if I look away for a minute I will forget, or I won’t care, or I will put myself in some kind of danger. 

If you live with a teen, or know a teen, or maybe even if you were a teen, you might recognize the pattern of bingeing your own drama. These sweet humans go deep and hard and full force into their angsty feelings. And as parents, we can get just as lost in their drama as they are. Everyone in the house is locked into the teen horror and no one it seems, can find the remote. 

Turning the channel might be too much to ask. 

But what if we could take a commercial break? 

When we go outside and feel the sun on our face. Or we, hug our pup, practice meditation, find our feet, put on karaoke music and sing at the top of our lungs, we are taking a commercial break. Some of us can recognize that it feels good to go to work where no one knows our problems because we CAN’T talk about them. Or maybe we have that funny friend who makes us laugh, or we exercise really hard. Giving our brains and hearts a moment to let go, to focus on something different can be a salve for our tired souls. Commercial breaks don’t fix our problems, but they do help us fuel and recenter and balance. As parents, especially of teens who can be endlessly bingeing their feelings, it can be a nice practice to think of being a place where our kids can take a breather. As humans, we can learn to do this for ourselves. 

So what makes a good commercial break? 

Accessible doses of time–it shouldn’t be a burden to have a break. No planning, traveling, or financial cost. Think fun and free. 

A good break doesn’t need to be long. The time it takes to dance around the kitchen to your favorite song. Three deep breaths in the sunshine. Smelling a flower. Listening to a funny joke. Hugging a baby. Hugging anyone. Remembering and retelling a favorite story. Talking about…well, anything…that isn’t part of our current drama. Finding our feet. Doing something unexpected. 

The beautiful thing is, that as we do these things, we realize that they aren’t separate from real life. They ARE real life. As real as the problems and drama. There is no reason we can’t choose to spend quality time and energy on these moments. It’s not about ignoring or pretending the problems don’t exist. It is remembering that these lovely, feel-good experiences are also truly and actually real life as well. 

So this week, see what happens if you devote time and energy to giving yourself commercial breaks.  As many as you want. They won’t solve any problems, but they can sure help us remember that we are more than our current binge-worthy drama.