Unplugged

A month ago my daughter decided to take some time disconnected from Facebook.  I've known for a long while it would be a good exercise for me to unplug but have resisted following through.  Kind of like my resistance to working out on a regular basis.  Or any basis.  But after she told me how beneficial it's been to tune out the social chatter for a time, I've decided to do it too.  So beginning tomorrow morning I'm not going to be on Facebook until March 1st.  Yes, I know.  I picked the shortest possible month.  Baby steps.

I was confused yesterday, thinking it was the last day of the month.  I thought today was the beginning of my social media fast.  I found it disconcerting, the level of relief I felt when I realized I had another twenty-four hours before I had to disconnect. It's not that I sit staring at my computer all day or have my smart phone in front of my face for hours at a time.  But I do check in during my coffee breaks. Okay, so I drink a lot of coffee.  

It's going to be a challenge for me, these next 29 days.  I have a large family and many people I count among my friends.  They are scattered all over the globe.  Facebook has made it easy to stay in touch. I've followed along with an historic revolution in Ukraine through friends who live in the middle of it all. I've had on-line conversations late in the night with a niece in Laos.  A niece I rarely saw when she lived in the states.  I'm getting to know cousins out west I've only met once or twice in my life.  I've reconnected with family I'd lost touch with for decades.  The same can be said for friends from grade-school to college.  It's amazing, really.  Not so long ago when people left their homes and moved to new territories, they knew it was unlikely they would ever again see the people they left behind.  We no longer live with that as a distinct possibility.  

I have so enjoyed learning to know formerly casual acquaintances better through Facebook.  Their personalities come through in ways they probably don't suspect.  Some of them make me laugh, the belly kind.  Others make me giggle.  Or maybe just smile.  There are those who inspire, every day. Some have a deep concern  and love for our country, and it shows with their thoughtful and provocative political commentaries.  The medical people post the best gallows humor.  Food pictures are always enjoyed and sometimes imitated.  Pet lovers share the joy their animals give them.  Nature enthusiasts allow me along on their adventures: hiking, biking, birding and motorcycling.  I've learned about the plight of monarch butterflies through Facebook and have taken to raising a few myself in the summertime, much to the delight of my grandchildren.

There are a few things I won't miss:

• Status updates that imply some great drama is unfolding but without offering any clue as to what it might be. I guess since you don't want to tell me up front, I don't really want to know anyway.
• Expressing your undying love for a different person every few weeks.  Do you ever go back and review what you've written?
• People who "unfriend" anyone who expresses an opinion they do not agree with.  Great way to keep your mind slammed shut and forever small.
• Endless memes. (Especially the ones with misspelled words.)  I want to be your Facebook friend so I can share my life with you and have you share yours with me.  Yes, I have passed along memes I enjoy.  I also post family photos, funny things that have happened to us, inspiring moments in our lives, and memorable times we enjoy.  Recap:  I'm not saying don't share memes that speak to you.  I'm saying, along with them, share your own life with the rest of us.
• Stalkers.  People who skulk around on everyone's page but never let anyone know they've been there.  I don't want to be watched.  I want to be interacted with.
• Passive aggressive stabs with thinly-veiled references to perceived wrongs as in, "Why can't people just tell you to your face when they're upset rather than talk behind your back?"  Umm, yeah, kinda like what you just did, right there.  
• Hateful political "stuff."  I do love honest, even heated, debates with mutual respect from all sides.

Now that I got all of that off my chest, let me address a comment I've often heard about social media.  "Everyone's life looks perfect on Facebook and we all know that's just not real."  Well, frankly, I'd really rather you didn't post all of your skeletons on a fairly public forum seen by all your 450 friends.  Seriously, do any of us have 450 intimate friends?  Friends close enough to share our deepest, darkest secrets?  I think not.  And those few people who do share everything?  Well, it's like a train wreck you can't look away from.  Everyone feels bad, is red-faced, and wishing it would stop, but very few of us can quit staring. I'm referring to knock-down drag-out verbal battles that bring personal drama to a whole new level.Thankfully, I don't have anyone on my friend-list who does this.  But I've heard a few horror stories from others.

I'm rather glad that most of us put our best foot forward on social media.  Seeing cute photos of your grandkids makes me smile.  Hearing about all the people you hate, does not.  Flipping through your vacation photographs lets me enjoy the trip vicariously.  Reading your humorous take on something that went awry makes me laugh. Yes, Out. Loud.  Hateful rants about people, groups, or cultures - well, that's when it's hard not to hit that "unfriend" button.  But I rarely do it.  Because I really do believe you have the right to your opinion, even if I'd like to slap you good.

Again let me clarify.  I'm not talking about the people who ask us all to pray for them because a loved one is sick or some such legitimate need. I'm not referring to those friends who are traveling a very rough road and allow us the privilege of walking along side, as best we can. Social media is a great way to get a large community of people banded together quickly.  In fact I will continue, during my off-line month, to check in on several private groups I am a part of because there are ongoing concerns I care very much about.

I was surprised at Paul's reaction when I told him I'll be disconnected for four weeks.  He has always declared that he "has no time for Facebook."  With a notably superior attitude, might I add.  As if all of us lesser humans, unencumbered by the lofty commitments of the truly important, can waste our time with foolishness if we must. "How will we know what's happening?" he now asked me, actual concern showing on his furrowed brow.  And then it was I realized he has been counting on me to share anything deemed newsworthy with him.  Local news, political opinions, deaths, births, weddings, graduations, notable achievements. The enormity of my undertaking gave us both pause.

It's left me feeling ambivalent about tomorrow.  A little dread because I'll be left out of most things media.  A little anticipation because I'll be left out of most things media.  Maybe I'll get a few of these books read that are laying around my office collecting dust.  Maybe I could write a letter or two, like I used to.  You know, the old-fashioned way.  With envelopes and stamps and everything.  

Don't get me wrong.  I'm not pining for "the good old days."  I think social media, used well, is a wonderful thing.  I enjoy technology and am constantly amazed by the gizmos we use so casually now, things that didn't even exist in our imaginations a few short years ago.  And even though I'm thinking this month, unplugged, will be good for me, I'm already looking forward to reading through all the notifications on my first day back.  

So, a very Happy Birthday to all you February babies out there and a hearty congratulations to everyone having an anniversary! I wonder if anyone will even notice I'm gone.