Facebook: friend or foe?

Like many, I suspect, I see social media as a double-edged sword. Is it great fun? On its good days, yes. A way to stay in touch, reach out, be informed? Absolutely. But it's also a platform for a lot of posing, not to mention a colossal waste of time. At its worst, it's a disturbingly effective way to spread lies, hate, and fear.

I've written before about this love-hate relationship with social media. A while back, the balance slammed down heavily on the side of "hate" when someone started intentionally using a platform-not-to-be-named to alienate me. Some of you, especially those who know me in the physical world, are probably thinking, "Oh man! As if that would work! I bet you showed them!"

Sorry, but no. Not at all. I wasn't angry, you see. If I'm mad, then heck yeah, I'll come out swinging. Nor was there an actual fight, and even if there had been, I only engage in fights if a) they're worth having and b) I'm pretty sure I can win. I was just hurt. So I did as wounded creatures do: I all but disappeared, from the virtual world, anyway.

Before long, I began to love my Facebook-free world. Aside from this blog, social media disappeared from my search histories, and you still can't find apps for anything but Blogger on my shiny new iPhone. I read more books, drank more coffee, got more sleep. I not only protected my heart, I also ceased being agitated by political and religious drivel from all sides of the aisle. Time not spent online was spent with my kids, my pets, my piano, my pen. Life was good.

Then another shift, another injury, this one terribly physical, terribly real. A little girl from our church suffered a horrific car accident. I started logging in again, anxious for updates, for signs of healing in a life in peril. As the story unfolded and the girl began to get well, I learned that without Facebook, it might have taken far longer for her to be identified and her parents to be found. Social media had, unequivocally, saved the day.

Thus began my quest for balance, for a way to be online with something like mindfulness, or at least a clear sense of intentionality. I limit my time, and I choose my interactions wisely (at least I try!). I only log in if I'm in the mood, and that's not always all that often. If I get hurt, annoyed, or worse, I walk away, but now only until perspective returns. Why bear a grudge for something that exists only on a blue-bordered screen? Social media, like any other experience, is ultimately about how each of us acts, and even more how we react. You can and will find good in the virtual world. Just last night, I was drawn into a Twitter conversation with people who share my passion for changing our treatment of the mentally ill, and came away encouraged. It is surely no accident that this happened on the same day I read Omid Safi's wonderful blog post, "Shine a Light on the Good and the Beautiful." Maybe this post, in some small way, can serve as a response to his call to "stand next to one another, shoulder to shoulder, mirroring the good and the beautiful."

Social media can be anything we want it to be. That is both its curse and its strength. Having a share in building that strength is why I'm back, at least for now.

The Internet of People

There has been a lot of talk lately about the Internet of Things. It's an intriguing concept. But I've been thinking more about what I wanted to call the Internet of People until I found out that this, rather perplexingly, does not refer to human beings but rather to the technological devices they might wear. Silly me. Here I was thinking people and their electronic accessories were entirely different entities. I for one have never confused a person for his Apple Watch...

Anyway. When I think "Internet of people," I am reflecting on what the Web can...and can't...do for human relationships. Note that I said "for" and not "to"– the latter is a subject for another day. Also note that I am not just talking about romantic relationships– those are yet another subject for yet another day. I mean all relationships.

Case in point: I logged onto social media for a few minutes the other day, something I hardly ever do any more. One of my Facebook friends had an entertaining post about his (mis)adventures in the kitchen. I smiled, read a few more posts from other friends, then logged off and went about my day. It was only later that I realized that my smile wasn't so much about the post as about the fact that this is someone from my real, day-to-day life. I know that kitchen, those pots and pans, that home. And thinking about all that is what made me click "like."

At the same time, I have online friends I've never met in real life, yet with whom I also share a lot. I'm thinking especially of my sister warrior moms. We may not have that extra layer created by meeting in person, yet I feel such a strong sense of connection with these women. Are those ties any less valuable just because they were made and might always remain in cyberspace?

And what about this blog? I have no idea how many people actually read it, though I see the page views are climbing. Does it reach people? Do they feel connected? A friend pointed out blogs can feel one-sided. She's right. Not to mention that it's hard to remain true to my voice when there's no dialogue. Maybe people will start commenting here and then the spirit of exchange will come to life. Meanwhile, I'll keep reading every post aloud to be sure I still sound like me.

This brings me to what I see as the biggest Internet relationship conundrum: one's relationship with oneself. As the mother of three teenagers, I am acutely aware of online promises and pitfalls when it comes to self-image. I see people, especially young women, post countless "selfies" in a desperate attempt to establish a sense of, well, self. Sometimes these posts annoy me, but more often, they just make me sad. I want to hug these kids, tell them to look in a mirror instead of a cell phone, and stop setting themselves up to be objects of others' derision or desire. I know they won't listen, but I want to do it all the same.

I guess all my rambling boils down to this: relationships can be built and sustained online. But if, along the way, you lose touch with your truest, best self, then in the end there is no relationship at all.