I am in the second week of a news fast, a discipline I practice now and again for the same reason that other people go on a food fast—to purge the poison from my system. The poison, in this case, is the venom that oozes from the mouths of politicians, pundits, and power brokers whose insults and lies fill the headlines and airwaves.

Take in a steady diet of contemptuous speech and you’re liable to feel contempt yourself, not only for this or that supposed enemy but for our entire species. Read constantly about cruelty and corruption, and you may lose trust in the power of honesty and kindness. Absorb enough reports about wars and threats of war, and you may cease to believe in the possibility of peace. Immerse yourself in stories about the purchasing of legislators and judges by corporations and billionaires, and you’re liable to give up on democracy as a failed experiment, and you may even yearn for an autocrat who promises to keep the stores full of stuff and the gas price low. The algorithms on social media amp up anger and hostility. Even late-night TV, which might seem like harmless entertainment, relies on ridicule for laughs, coaching us to scorn not only people we already dislike, but also people whom we had been naive enough to admire.

Strife grabs our attention; harmony lulls us to sleep. That’s why news is littered with the language of violence: clash, attack, battle, scorn, troll, slam, humiliate, denounce, assault, harass, rape. In the flood of images and words, strife rules, as thousands of media sources compete for our ears and eyes. I gave up watching TV news on commercial channels years ago, because I was repulsed by the smirking hosts and snarling guests, and the images of mayhem haunted my sleep. But even the highest quality news sources available in print and online feature conflict, for they, too, must garner enough readers to please the advertisers.

Most of the time I am one of those readers, sampling a dozen or more sources every day, but as my spirits sink lower and my view of humankind darkens, I realize that I must take a break to recover my sanity and to recall our better traits. So I tune out the news for a spell and tune in the eternities. I watch birds, weed the garden, listen to music, reread favorite books; I visit the art museum on campus, strolling among students whose faces glow with promise; I chat with neighbors on the sidewalk and I ask checkout clerks how they’re doing; I write letters to friends, actual letters on paper, and I phone other friends just to hear their voices; I listen to kids whooping with joy on swings in the park, track the moon through its monthly phases, watch films about wildlife and conservation and the cosmos, and I take walks around town with my wife.

I’m aware that a responsible citizen should be informed about what’s going on in the local community, across the nation, and around the planet; but one should also have enough faith in one’s fellow citizens to believe that together we can fashion a more just and peaceful world. Taking a break from the news helps me regain that faith. If the world seems blighted to you, and hope seems foolish, you might try this remedy, which costs nothing but a little restraint.