I was sitting at home on a Sunday morning, scrolling through Instagram as I usually do. I wasn’t really paying attention, just letting the videos pass by, one after another. But then I stumbled across a video from a user named @agate_dad.

He was cutting open what looked to me like a typical shell. Nothing special. But even before he opened it, he was already ecstatic. Truly, you could hear it in his voice, this pure, almost childlike wonder. At this point, he’s still holding the two halves of the shell together, so neither he nor I have seen it yet. But somehow, I was suddenly on the edge of my seat with him.

In a matter of 30 seconds, I’m just as thrilled as he is to find out what’s in this shell. I was fully invested. And then, he opened it.

He gasped, “Wow,” “Oooooh,” letting out this raw exhilaration as he held the shell up to the camera. He gets closer to the shell, and you see inside are dazzling crystals and rainbow colors. He shifted it around, revealing pockets of sparkling beauty and lure hidden within. It was something you would’ve had no clue was kept behind the walls of a boring shell.

At completely different times, with miles and miles between us, we shared the same bliss. We were both seeing something inconceivably magical for the first time.

Then the video ended. And I found myself wondering, why do we spend so much time comparing ourselves on the internet when we could be posting things like this?

We spend hours staring at people online. Constantly comparing our lives to classmates, coworkers, celebrities—people we barely even know? Why do we let the internet become a place of judgment rather than discovery? Why not instead spend our time reconnecting with such childlike enthrallment?

Remember when we used technology just for joy? For many of us, we had some kind of technology growing up: cartoons on TV or YouTube on our tablets. We’d watch videos of people opening toys or catching frogs in the woods, and it made us happy. We were curious, wide-eyed, and excited about the little things.

I miss that. I miss the joy that used to come with my phone because everything wasn’t so serious. I miss when phones were a tool of wonder—not stress. I miss when I watched “The World’s Funniest Cat Videos” or someone showing off their favorite Mattel toy. Not filtered selfies or constant influencer competition.

So if I can leave you with one piece of advice, it’s this: Post what you love.

Post yourself opening the shoes you’ve wanted for five years. Post your dog because you’re lucky enough to have another day with them. Post something real, something that makes you feel alive.

Not just a selfie that’s one of 50 others you spent editing until you looked “perfect.” But something raw. Delightful. Passionate.

Because the internet doesn’t need more perfection, what it needs is more wonder.