Watch less, Live more

 Watch Less, Live More

by Nidhi Guglani 

We’re surrounded by content. We create it. We consume it. We share it. Whether it’s my own blog, a student’s reel, or a stranger’s travel vlog—I see an endless stream of posts, videos, stories, tips, and “how-to”s. Beauty, parenting, travel, teaching, fitness—name a category, and you’ll find hundreds of interpretations of the same thing. It’s an overwhelming ocean, constantly refreshing.

Let’s take a simple example: beauty tutorials. Suppose I want to learn how to apply eyeliner. I could watch ten different influencers showing ten slightly different styles. One uses brown liner for a soft look. Another goes bold with a wing. Some use filters and glossy edits; others go raw and real. But in the end, what matters? Not which video I watched, but whether I actually picked up the liner and tried it on myself.

Now take travel. I can binge-watch Switzerland through someone else’s lens—watch them walk through Lucerne’s old town, take scenic train rides, or sip hot chocolate in Zermatt. But I’ve come to realize that watching doesn’t substitute for experiencing. It can inform or tempt, but it doesn’t transform. The crisp mountain air, the smell of the streets, the exhaustion in your legs from walking uphill—that’s something no camera can transfer to me. Watching a five-minute reel doesn’t come close to being there.

And then there’s parenting. I have seen countless videos on how to manage screen time, how to help children develop empathy, how to talk to a teenager. Some of these videos are well-meaning and wise. But unless I sit beside my child, talk to them, fumble through awkward moments, and show up day after day, none of it matters. Real parenting cannot be outsourced to a reel. No content creator can take your place in that room, at that dinner table, or in that heart.

Even in professional life—it’s the same. As a teacher, I constantly look for ways to improve. I want to make my lessons more engaging. I follow pages, attend webinars, and read blog posts on teaching strategies or content writing. And yes, sometimes these resources are helpful. They spark a thought. They offer structure. But unless I try those ideas in my classroom, unless I see how my students react, unless I adapt them to my context, it’s all just another saved link. Unused. Forgotten. Consumed, but not lived.

In fact, I’ve often saved workout videos too. “10-minute full body stretch.” “Beginner yoga flow.” “Dance your way to fitness.” But most of the time, I just watch. Sometimes I even watch them while lying down. It’s funny—how something meant to energize ends up making me feel worse because I didn’t act on it.

The truth is, experience is what gives life its weight. Watching is just a glimpse. Doing is where the meaning lies.

I’ve come to terms with the fact that yes, I too am contributing to this endless stream of content. By writing this, I’m adding another drop to the flood. But if you’re reading this and then putting the book away, and nothing changes—then it’s just another piece of content.

The problem isn’t the content. It’s what we’re doing with it.

If it pushes us to act, it’s useful. If it inspires us to create, connect, or challenge ourselves, it has value. But if it becomes another distraction in our day, another reason to delay action, it’s just noise.

So today, this thought settled inside me:

Instead of spending time watching someone else live their life, I want to return to living mine.

I want to write more than I read about writing.

I want to dance more than I watch dance clips.

I want to teach more than I plan my teaching.

I want to be a participant in the stories I tell—not just an observer, not just a critic, and definitely not just a scroller.

So here’s the question I’m leaving myself with—and perhaps you too:

Are we spectators of life, or are we living it?

“You can’t cross the sea merely by standing and staring at the water.”

— Rabindranath Tagore