Everything You Do Matters

Reclaiming presence, connection, and radical existence in a world that profits from your distraction

Annika Prickett

Cogito ergo sum. I think, therefore I am. I’m thinking about just how many things are vying for my attention as I sit to write. My phone continues to buzz even as I’ve put it on Do Not Disturb. Televisions flash advertisements in my face—BUY, BUY, BUY. I’m thinking about how there’s constant pressure to be more. More productive, more attractive, more acceptable. I think about what it means to exist in the world as a woman. What the hell does society want from me? I must be beautiful, but effortless. Intelligent, but not threatening. Skinny, but not sickly. Confident, but not loud. I must be polite—which is to say, I must submit. But this begs the question, to whom am I obliged and for why? It would be naive of me to attempt to solve the world's qualms in a mere 700 words, and even so, my words only hold merit if they’re heeded. So hear me now. 

Radical existence means presence. 

It means clawing your attention from the dopamine dump that technology attempts to seduce you with each time you reach for your phone. Resist the urge to curate yourself into a product for public consumption. You waste precious life in your pursuit of curating the perfect image of what life should look like. Too much information leaves little room for inspiration. When was the last time you sat in stillness? The last time you allowed yourself to be fully immersed in the messiness of being human?

So much of what holds us back are monsters of our creation—problems crafted for us by industries that feed on dissatisfaction. Dear reader, I promise you that the answer your soul seeks is rarely found in a shopping cart. No purchase will make you whole. You need not polish the armor that guards your heart; you need to lay down your arms. The remedy for the exhaustion, the anger, and the loneliness you feel isn’t in a self-help book or a fleeting indulgence. It’s in connection. It’s in showing up—for yourself, for others, for your communities. It’s in reclaiming third spaces, in building something outside the relentless rat race of work and hyperconsumption. 

Dan Savage,  activist, writer, and founder of an LGBTQ+ suicide prevention organization, remarked, “During the darkest days of the AIDS crisis, we buried our friends in the morning, we protested in the afternoon, and we danced all night. The dance kept us in the fight.” I think this speaks to the need for joy, even as we traverse through turbulent times. Some of my best memories are a direct result of dancing away the disillusionment I felt at the state of the world. Loud music and flashing lights may not aid all my ails, but they help to dull the pain. Acknowledgment of the good and finding humor in hardship is paramount to endurance.     

It’s easy to get swept up in the storm of everything happening. It’s easier to get drunk on despair and declare that nothing matters and, therefore, anything goes. But that’s the biggest lie of all. Everything you do matters, even the very act of you choosing to read this article instead of paying your precious attention to one of the tech billionaires, is an act of resistance. To exist radically is to live with deep intentionality. It’s refusing to be another cog in the machine. A good worker kept satiated by empty praise. It’s understanding that we are not meant to go through this life alone. Don’t allow yourself to fall into the pits of self-isolation under the guise of  “self-care.” Community is inconvenient, and love isn’t transactional. Connection and relationships—these things are inherently messy. And yet, these things are everything. Radical existence isn’t just railing against the system; it’s about being as deeply rooted in your values as possible. Radical existence means embodying a version of the future that doesn’t quite exist yet, but should. Loquor ergo sum. I speak, therefore I am. May the words you speak lay the foundation for a better tomorrow.