"I just thought I’d pop on..."
It’s the phrase that echoes across social media feeds lately — chirpy, casual, and familiar. A digital knock on the door. It usually comes before a product plug, a life update, or some framed version of “authenticity.” It’s soft, disarming. But beneath it? There’s something worth pausing for.
Because almost everyone is popping on these days. And the question is: Are we even listening? Or just absorbing? Do we actually care? Or are we just conditioned to pay attention? (or not)
Social media calls it influencing — and that’s exactly what it does. Every polished post, every filtered moment, every slice of life shared in perfect lighting has an impact. It teaches us, subtly, how to present, how to belong, how to feel. Even vulnerability is curated now — set to music, stitched into a Reel, wrapped in a caption designed for maximum relatability.
And here I am, popping on too — albeit in a slower way.
This newsletter lands in your inbox every two weeks. No ring light, no hashtags — just a moment to pause and reflect. A gentler rhythm in a world that’s always asking for more. And I'm grateful whether you open it the minute it arrives or let it sit in your inbox for a while. Honestly.
I’m grateful for every subscriber who receives this — and I fully respect and understand the ones who choose to unsubscribe, too. I do it myself. We all curate, in our own way, what we let in.
Because curation isn’t just about what we share. It’s also about what we consume — who we allow to influence our minds, moods, and moments.
And that’s why we should care.
Because curated content isn’t neutral. It’s power, disguised as a casual connection. It can uplift or erode. Inspire or numb. When we’re constantly watching others live, we can start forgetting how to live for ourselves. We become performers in our own stories, constantly editing for an imagined audience.
But here's the thing: not everything real needs to be content. Not every thought needs to be published. And not every person who "pops on" needs our attention.
So maybe this is your reminder — and mine — to choose wisely. To stay curious about who and what we follow. To protect our peace as much as our feed.
And to remember that just because something pops up, it doesn’t mean it needs to stay.
Until next time, whenever you’re ready to open this again, thank you for being here.
– David
I feel like I’m in a season of curation. My life is a boutique, not a museum. There is no need to preserve everything. I can use and enjoy and ensure all aspects of my life I can somewhat direct, (relationships, work, play) are boutiqued or curated for me.
Heirlooms are okay but don’t take centre stage in my life closet; maybe just a little spot on my mantle. Life as a boutique is my mantra!