I use Facebook.
I am actually a fan of Facebook.
And that’s probably not surprising to those that know me well, really
well, friends that can see and touch me, as well as fb friends that have ever seen
and touched me; enjoyed a sandwich, a beer, a cigar (that one time in Kingston,
Ontario), shared a drink with me; TAB, wine, white Russians, maybe a couple of 7&7s,
know that I still like chocolate milk and yodels, remember that horror movies
make me cry, and some of the hardest moments make me laugh, understand why I am
petrified of horses, but won’t kill a bug, (except mosquitos, sorry) heard me laugh from my gut, heard
me cry from the middle of some black hole, enjoyed a piece of my pie, Irish
Soda Bread, sticky buns, or flourless chocolate cake, shared a joke, got it a ½
hour later, seen me twirl, or trip, been to the ocean with me, or the river,
NYC, New Orleans, Myrtle Beach, or shared the top of a high peak with me. Friends. Facebook.
The reason my friends would understand how I would like Facebook is because they
know I am a bit of an anarchist. And
let’s face it, we are all supposed to be collectively annoyed at Facebook, the
posts, the revelations, the quotes, the recipes, the heartbreak and sadness, the
in your face love, the causes, the funniest videos, the political sidings, the
rage against the machine, whichever machine you care to rage against, or maybe rally
for. It is easy to be a Facebook hater,
and so, I am not.
I am not big on group-speak. I don’t do
easy. Not as a rule. Exactly.
It is more I believe, a genetic disposition or mutated malfunction. It is one more part of what makes me, me. My stumbling and perfect humanness, in all of
its imperfection.
To me, Facebook is this funny little strange
place that I can fully control what I wish to see, share, spend extra time with
or shut down. It is also this incredible
place that I can feel this deep strong continuous connection with my extended
family, the family that has otherwise grown up, apart, away. Without Facebook, contact would be lost or
certainly strained. Relegated to
Christmas cards and rare phone calls to share news of weddings and funerals. And it keeps me connected to friends, close
by, faraway, present day, and those from my past. Even some acquaintances that are otherwise
interesting, happy, inspiring, thoughtful, and well, just plain, Facebook
friendly.
Facebook has also served as a place to post my
creative self. Photographs. Art.
Furniture, ok fine, 2 chairs, and a wobbly table... This creative expression is an extension that
I might otherwise just keep to myself.
Facebook has provided this format that I can be a practitioner of art
with ease and an instancy not available through the process of submission to
art galleries, publications, or juried shows.
It gives me a starting point to present my art. It has been a supportive place to share my
writing and has given me the confidence to submit to those very scary, possibly
rejecting publications. I have been, in
my mind, well-received instead. Happily.
Facebook has helped me get through some really
challenging and difficult times. A place
to sometimes scream Look! I’m alive. Look I’m not afraid! As well as Look I am moving forward, surviving, living,
succeeding and also struggling. It
is a place for me to trace my own progress.
Knowing others are cheering me on and keeping me in their thoughts
helps, abundantly. Knowing some will
misunderstand, or get turned off, or uncomfortable is also ok because I know
they can click delete, block, or remove me from their timelines. Poof! Imagine how easy it could be to apply
those thoughts to the real world, Facelook?
It’s worth a try. Visualize delete. Don’t let discomfort reach your heartdrive or back-up to your memory. Let
it go.
Recently I sent a private group message about a
deeply personal issue. I am deeply
private, it was difficult to do, but the support was needed and received
tenfold. Reaching out is not something
most of us can do. We are much more
equipped to isolate and close ourselves off at those very times we need all the
support we can gather. Communicating
need is considered to be a weakness, and something we turn away from. It is painful to do, and painful to see. We have all been there. I have been a recipient of these
messages. I know they can be really
annoying. Everyone responding responds
to the group, everyone has to keep seeing and hearing all the responses. Most of us don’t know each other, and might
not even know how we got in the group.
Delete.
Remove yourself from the group.
Respond privately, or not at all.
Don’t take offense. Carry on. Complain
about Facebook if you wish. But remember
facebook does not control us or harm us.
We get to choose. I chose to
reach out. Sometimes, here in this
strange new cybernetic place, it is easier to communicate, but no less
meaningful.
A few years ago, after
traveling through the south I returned with my oldest son to New York
City. We had escaped every storm from New
Orleans, Alabama, Tennessee, through the Mid-Atlantic states during the
beginning of hurricane season. When we
got to New York, the darkest clouds formed and the skies opened, but we were
“home” and felt safe and familiar. Close
to friends, Facebooked or otherwise. I
dropped him off and hugged him tightly and parked in front of an art
gallery. Peter Tunney’s bold, expressive
work seemed to be stronger than the storm, or at least invited me in from the
storms that had been gathering in my own heart.
Safely. The one piece that has changed much of my perspective and
softened the anarchist within read; WE ARE ALL STUMBLING HUMAN BEINGS. Turning away from this very thing that makes
us each individually human does not change our stumbling nature. Knowing we are all connected through our
humanity has given me courage and strength. And, well, maybe Facebook isn’t
exactly the kum ba yah of connectivity, it is as real as virtual gets. Well,
you know what I mean….
I have been traveling to New York City a bit
more lately and have been overjoyed to see Peter Tunney’s installment as I travel. It creates this meaning that is unique
to me and my experience, but it also transcends me. It is available to us all. Gratitude. And really, what is so different about seeing
or hearing messages on Facebook, a billboard, in the news, from a card, or a
phonecall, or a visit in person? It is one way of communicating, sharing,
staying connected. Thank you friends for much love and support.
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