I’ve been thinking about writing this post for a long, long time.
(Yeah, you’re thinking, where has she been? Dropped off the face of the earth? Contracted the virus? Suffered a heart attack? No, I’ve been here. Mostly thinking. Part of the time running an inn – you know, that post retirement job I thought might be fun? It is, sometimes… It’s work most of the time. But I have a new idea for a novel which I’ll probably write in November. Emerging Inn Sync. Yeah, I like the sound of it too.)
I’ve been suffering from a case of fatigue. Mostly from looking at the internet and specifically from following people on social media, which is becoming less and less sociable and more and more like the wild, wild West. Yes, there’s a virus, yes, there’s injustice, yes, there’s unrest, yes, the world sucks. I follow people because I like them, because they’re authors or agents, because when they speak it’s interesting. Or it used to be interesting. I don’t follow them to get their world view – I’m sure they have passionate world views (as do I) but the constant harping, name calling (on all sides), and vitriol had me clearing out my list once and then again. Which is sad. If you post one hateful thing, you’re gone, and that’s not because I’m better than you. Hate consumes the vessel carrying it and I don’t want any part of that. I’ve seen good friends descend into a vortex of bile so strong it makes my stomach hurt just thinking about it. I’m almost ready to give up Twitter, it’s such a cesspool. And Facebook is right up there too as a major disappointment.
I don’t know how to put this other than just saying it: P L E A S E D O N ‘ T.
Please don’t.
If you write, please write. If you paint, please do. If you play music, play the hell out of it. If you make pine needle baskets or jewelry like I do, put your passion into that. But please don’t contribute to the noise, unless you are actively doing something to make things better, and I don’t mean just donating money to a cause. At that point, I’d want to know. Before that, it’s just complaints with no action.
I’m not a Pollyanna or an ostrich with my head below the surface. I have eyes. I have a mind with which to think. I need more than an echo chamber to live a full life.
I try not to engage in fights, honestly. I follow a great variety of groups and people. Mostly writers, but there are others. In the last month I have been dragged into a bullying mob just for asking a simple question. In a group that was supposed to be a community helping one another. Then derided and called names. When I sought to clarify a point, no one read that part. Oh no. That would have made sense.
Manners are dead. Common courtesy is on life support.
I’m too old to stir pots anymore, but I do like to point out there are two sides to every story. (I did take classes in journalism, before the news biz became the editorial/propaganda biz.) That’s what makes writing an interesting proposition. It’s not just telling a story, it’s delving deep into background, of why people do the things they do. You don’t have to agree, or even like the person, but there are valid reasons people do and say the things they do.
If we were all the same, life would be pretty bland. I don’t want to be the same as everyone else. I’ve never wanted to be the same as everyone else. Individuality is the sparkle in the facet. Different is good.
In the meantime, I’m trying to stay away from the devices. Enjoy the warmth of the sun and the fresh air of the mountains. I’m coaxing tomatoes to fruition and feeding my angry swarm of hummingbirds. I’ll start working on my edits, because every time I go up to Cripple Creek, I see where I need to change something. And I did most of the research before writing!
I wish you peace and as much happiness you can grab in this crazy world. Grab it, because there’s not much left.
