Dichotomy Isn’t a Dirty Word

We all have images in our heads of other people … who they are based on how they act, what they say, and now, what they post on various social media outlets.

A lot of people know things about me without really knowing me. Sometimes they use those things they know to comment on who they think I am. For instance, some people say I’m fake because I used togo to church, but I also drink beer, say fuck, and support marriage equality and reproductive freedom. Some person said I favor my daughters over my son because I never post pictures of him on social media. The simple truth of that is: My girls like pictures; my boy does not. But, I am busy trying to make my little space in the universe happy, so people can talk. What they say about me isn’t my business.

Conversely, I think I know stuff about others based on the same things. I really do try to get to know people though. I like to listen to their stories, find out what makes them tick. I think people are fascinating, actually. Cats too. In fact, I like cats more than most people.

But I find it is hard to know people because many of us don’t even really know ourselves that well. I feel like we begin to know who we are when we question the limiting beliefs that keep us stuck in a cycle of self-recrimination. Each time we peel back  a layer of who our family of origin, teachers, or society told us we were or should be, we get closer to knowing our true self. Pushing past what we were told we ought to do, couldn’t be or would never amount to and seeing what untapped potential rests in our core waiting to be acknowledged and unleashed is a wonderful and challenging journey.

Whoever we are and whatever our reason for being, life is a precious and fulfilling gift. We get to love and be loved, inspire and be inspired, encourage and be encouraged. Each moment brings opportunities to choose love, compassion, kindness, patience, forgiveness. Lots of times, I don’t make the best choice. But with each breath, each moment, each day, we get another chance to make a better choice.

I read a quote the other day that said: Don’t start today with the broken pieces of yesterday. Of course, I couldn’t find the author, but what a great sentiment. I have carried so much baggage around for so long. And while I could have just chosen to put it down long ago, that isn’t what I do. I have to unpack everything and examine it all before choosing to find a place for it in my life or throw it in the trash. 

And a lot of it goes right in the trash. Like that one box…the one you keep moving from apartment, to condo, to house, to house. You keep bringing it with you, but you never unpack it. You don’t really even know what’s in it because the sharpie writing wore off years ago. Then one day you open it, and it’s a bunch of unwanted items you’d planned to donate years ago, but you got sidetracked. At this point, I want to kick myself wondering Why have I been carrying this box around all these years? It’s useless. I don’t want any of it. I could have gotten rid of it years ago.

It’s the same with so much crap from our past. Sometimes, we just have to open up the box and look at the crazy stuff in there to realize how preposterous it is to keep carrying it around. But then we can throw it in the trash and move on.

My box was pretty full. It’s taken lots of years, and I’m still unpacking things. It’s getting lighter.

Say it to my Face…book

I tried to quit Facebook a couple months ago. After using a little app that monitored how much time you spend on your phone, I realized that I was spending a whole lot of valuable time scrolling through other people’s lives when I could be living my own. Additionally, my mom was really sick, I was juggling a LOT and I needed to focus.

So I deleted my account.

However, I quickly realized that the easiest way to get in touch with some people I needed to contact was … you guessed it: Facebook.

So I reactivated my account.

Messages, explanations, blah blah blah, there you have it straight from the horse’s mouth as they say. My mom says that, “straight from the horse’s mouth.” I don’t know what it means or if anyone else says it, so maybe as she says would be more accurate.

Moving on.

In the past few years, I have had more arguments, fights, drama and hurt feelings with real life friends and family over stuff that took place on Facebook than over anything that happened in our actual flesh and blood lives. That is a fact.

A few months back, a friend and I decided to write a book about it. Facebook. We had had a few fights. I know it might sound trite and silly that grown up women–mothers, for heaven’s sake–would get upset about social media, but it happened. I suspect we aren’t the only ones. Anyway, I really value my friends and know that stewing on hurt feelings leads to bitterness, resentment and lost relationships.

So, being the grown ups we are, we hashed it out in true therapeutic fashion. “It hurts my feelings when you like her pictures and not mine.” It’s true. “It makes me feel left out when you all post pictures and didn’t invite me.” Still working those Agreements and trying not to take things personally. Anyway, by the end of it we were laughing instead of crying, but we came up with some good common sense guidelines.

If you never get your feelings hurt by social media stuff, you can stop reading now. Scroll to the bottom though and tell me your thoughts on that. But if sometimes…maybe…a little…well… here’s:

The Girlfriend’s Guide to Not Being An Asshole on Facebook

1. Don’t post vague attention-seeking statuses. Text your friends. Talk about your issues. Scream. Write in your journal. See a counselor.
2. Don’t post passive-aggressive digs at your friends. If you have friends, and they piss you off, tell them. Talk about it. With THEM. Don’t call your other friends and tell them what this friend did. That’s 8th grade baloney.
3. LIKE every picture you see your friends post. Even if it’s terribly unflattering. Even if it’s the 87th time hop they posted today. Like. It. Anyway. Not because you like the picture but because you love your friend.
4. Don’t play favorites. If you like your brother’s pictures of his kid, like your sister’s pictures of hers too. If you like every picture one friend posts and never like another friend’s, that’s mean. And whether your friends admit it or not, most of them notice. And the people who notice will get their feelings hurts. Do you want to hurt someone’s feelings? Yikes.
5. If you scroll through Facebook constantly when you’re with your friends and then claim, “Oh, no, I didn’t see that…” your friends all know you are lying.
6. Just. Be. Nice. If you don’t have anything nice to say then keep your mouth shut. Don’t post a passive aggressive comment.
7. Finally, don’t flirt with your friend’s husband on Facebook. For real. That’s not cool. I am a kinder, gentler version of the crazy girl I once was, but come at my man, and I will cut you. I’m not the only one. Join match.com or something.

These suggestions are based on actual experiences we had with our friends (and I mean honest-to-goodness ride-or-die friends, not other dance moms, or your kids’ friends’ moms with whom you occasionally have coffee, I mean the girls you’d take a bullet for) and each other. Come on now. If you see yourself in here, it’s cool. Me too. I’m trying to do better.

But…I’m also trying to spend less time scrolling and more time living, so I promise you: If you’re my friend, and I see something you posted: I will like it. Unless it is racist, anti-gay or mean. Then, I’ll either unfriend or unfollow you. Just clarifying.

Honestly, social media is just another way we seek love and acceptance and connection. Isn’t posting pictures of our adorable kids and stuff we made for dinner just a different form of, “Watch me!”? And don’t we all just really want people to like us? I’m not advocating for seeking approval from social media friends and followers; good LORD, I’ve spent the last two decades trying NOT to give others the power to determine my worth. I’m just saying that the main thing I learned out of this whole endeavor was: People want to be liked. I can do that. We can all do that.

Also, in delving into the issues this brought up for me, I uncovered a big trigger in feeling left out. As the youngest of 7 children, I was often left behind while my siblings did things I was “too little” to do. A lot of the shit we deal with as adults is some modified form of the stuff we never dealt with properly when we were kids. Maybe because our parents, who were busy not dealing with their own shit, addressed our fears and concerns with, “Well, that is the stupidest thing I ever heard. Why would you let that bother you?” Right? No, just me? That’s cool.

Recently every argument in our house turns into a therapy session because I don’t want my adult kids dealing with an issue we monumentally bungled the handling of when they were young. AND I surely don’t want to foist the issues I never dealt with as a kid onto my kids. I’m still working on it. I’ll tell you more later.

In the meantime, I’m gonna post this on Facebook. I hope you like it.

Knowledge vs. Love

Every morning, after reading a chapter or two in the Bible, I flip through and read a few sporadic verses. Sometimes those verses speak to me. Sometimes they encourage. Other times they convict. This morning’s blew me away: “…But while knowledge makes us feel important, it is love that strengthens the church. Anyone who claims to know all the answers doesn’t really know very much. But the person who loves God is the one whom God recognizes.” (1 Corinthians 8:1-3) 

In this, Paul was talking about food sacrificed to idols and by church he means people, not the place some of us go on Sunday or for weddings and funerals. I specify the church thing because I never realized that before attending The Movement. 

I promise this isn’t about meat, which I don’t eat. Of course I’ve written about that, if you’re interested.

Man, I take a long time to make a point; here we go: Sometimes we get so caught up in logistics, and rules, and answers, and figuring things out that we forget just to love God and each other. I cringe hearing people spew hate and judgement in Jesus’ name or under the guise of “defending the Bible.” Seriously? Are we so arrogant to think God needs us to stick up for Him? I’m pretty sure the Creator of the Universe is solid. And even if He did need our help, hate certainly would not be the approach He would encourage. He might tell us to Love and Serve. In fact, He did.
 
The last few days I have been praying almost without ceasing because every time I think of my daughter and can’t talk to her, I pray. Lord, keep her safe. Lord, guide her steps. Lord, I’m scared. But the more vulnerable I am, the nearer to Him I draw, and the nearer He feels. This season of my life is completely out of my control. Rather than fight it, I am choosing to surrender completely, and in my surrender, God reaches out to me. I imagine Him saying, “There you are. Now we can make some progress.” 

Last week during OAA’s, my son complained every day about the stupid things he had to learn and why did it matter and algebra sucks, and why do we need to know this, and holy crap, I forgot how rough it is to be a teenager. However, in some ways I agree with him. We spend so much time trying to impart knowledge and skills to make our kids successful in this competitive world that we neglect to teach them love, compassion, and respect for others despite the fact that the latter lessons will undoubtedly serve them better in the future. I have never used Algebra a day in my life, but I interact with people every day.

So today, I’m gonna trade in knowledge for love. Instead of trying to figure people out, I’m going to encourage them unconditionally. Today, instead of making a snarky remark, I’ll speak love. Today, instead of rolling my eyes at someone’s self-congratulatory Facebook post, I will see beneath the bravado to someone striving to feel validated. I might be a complete jerk tomorrow, but I’m gonna really try not to be today 🙂

Peace out.

Then What?

The first few days of my social media fast, I got a lot accomplished, but now as with many things, I’ve come to a place of: NEEEXXXXXTTTT! Just yesterday, I invented a fake syndrome and promptly diagnosed Chloe. While her next few months are filled with exciting study and research trips abroad, then there’s next semester and then next year, and then she graduates and…Then What?

After discovering this disorder, diagnosing Chloe and then listening to Brad, who has been in his own waiting room of sorts, I realized that I had a relatively mild case as well.

My goal in giving up social media was to focus the extra time on my family, writing, reading, praying, and that has all been successful. However, since Brad and Peyton still use social media, after Lily goes to bed, my brain is on F, and I can’t bring myself to do one more productive thing, they are still plugged in. Now, I watch TED Talks and Orange is the New Black* on Netflix.

In the past, I would have gotten on Facebook, Instagram, or Twitter. I would have commented on some adorable babies, prayed for all the people with prayer requests, encouraged friends who were feeling down, liked pictures of salads, sushi, smoothies, and sunsets, Amen’ed a couple witty musings, and gone to bed.

That brought this alarming realization: The solitude I craved when too many people pulled pieces of me in too many different directions is really lonely. I am not designed to be by myself on an island (unless it’s a warm beautiful one, I could chill there for awhile), writing and reading and making my brain ache. I’m meant to interact with and encourage people. And…guilt: I basically walked away from my mission field by giving up social media.

Ughhhhhhhhhhhhh.

So, I miss you guys. A lot. I could walk away from this fast, but I’m too stubborn to quit before the 40 days is over. I have an issue with finishing things, often muddling through mind-numbingly boring books, yawning and complaining through wretched movies, and torturing myself to varying degrees in the name of not quitting. I haven’t come up with a name for this disorder yet, but I will. I’m gonna have to write my own makeshift DSM to keep track of my newly minted psychoses. The ironic other side of that coin is that my word for 2014 is: Persevere. Turns out, just as I can’t quit the dumb stuff; I can’t finish the important things. Go figure!

Stay classy, San Diego. I’ll see you in 17 days.

*If you are unfamiliar with OITNB, it’s kind of like the old HBO series Oz but with women. It’s about women in prison and has graphic language and sexuality. If that makes you squeamish, it’s not the show for you.