IG Reels: My Favorite 15 Minutes of the Day

Nature calls every morning. But so does Instagram.

Fifteen minutes before I started writing this piece, I felt an urge. Yes, nature had issued her splendid call. And, if you know me very well, I happily obliged. No, actually, I gloriously obliged.

But as I stood up from my desk and took a step toward the bathroom, I remembered another urge. I stepped back and picked up the holy trinity of modern distraction: my phone, earpods, and my glasses. Along with nature, I was going to enjoy what has become my favorite 15 minutes of the day. You guessed it: watching Instagram Reels while I poop. (Okay, no more talk of poop.)

Ah, the reels. I absolutely love them! I grab my stomach over comedians like Nate Bargatze and Anjelah Johnson. I get goose bumps watching Miley cover Like a Prayer. I melt when I see Bocelli sing Hallelujah with his 11-year-old daughter, Virginia—it makes me think of my mom and how much she would have loved that. My spirit soars when Gaga sings about that “Arizona sky, burning in my eye…”

And the oddest of all, I’ve fallen in love with two songs from Italian Idol. I don’t understand one word these gals are singing—yet I’ve watched them more than anything else. What is that about? They draw me in. It’s partly their innocence, the intonation of the lyrics, their sincerity, and the build of the song. I’ve teared up many times—I was that moved. How does that happen when you don’t understand the lyrics? My only explanation—and a part of life I’m loving more and more—is that it is simply the inexplicability of music’s effect on the human soul. It’s another in the long line of mysteries.

Reels are the essence of brevity and delight. They’re flickable if they fail to amuse. What’s not to love about that? I’ve laughed harder, teared-up more often, experienced greater inspiration, and been gobstruck at human athleticism more than with any other single thing I do.

I know, I know. I should be liking my family’s posts, the ski vacations, the cute videos of my grandkids, or my son’s real estate reels. Yup. Also, now that I’m a writer, I should be much more engaged on social media. I should be responding to DMs and reacting to Facebook likes. But I just can’t. The reels are calling.

So now I’ve just given in. Instead of feeling guilty about my social media sins, I’ve lumbered into Sodom. I’m going to embrace my most cherished quarter hour of existence. I’m looking at that foray as a reset, a pick-me-up for the rest of the day. Look at me as I just rationalize my way to Gomorrah.

It’s interesting how the socials are poo-pooed these days—everyone bemoaning the insidiousness of them, the algorithmic addiction. (I know I said no more poo, but this is different.) Okay, maybe they are evil. But what about the good side? What about the introduction to inspiring people like Warren Buffett I would have never listened to? What about the innovative thinkers like Jordan Peterson I wouldn’t have heard? And for free, I get to hear the best sixty seconds of their words. Are you kidding me!

So here’s a toast to snippets of brilliance—whether they be on Instagram, TikTok, or YouTube. Here’s to entertainment that lifts up, makes you think, and is inspiring. For all this, I choose to be grateful.

Oh, and for nature’s call, too. (I lied)

My website