I’m curious how you all feel about our collective presence and conversations on social media right now?
After nearly two months off of social media (possibly, one of the longest stretches since I was 12), I find myself at relative peace with using social media less and less. My sense has been that the general favor toward social media has soured, especially since 2020 (for a variety of reasons: increased public knowledge about the psychological effects as well as bad experiences through discussions around COVID and racism, being two of them).
I wasn’t sure if that was just me and my particular biases (I did predict 2020 would be pinned–among other things–as the year social media died, after all).
I get the feeling most of us are either exhausted or disinterested and/or so tired that every conversation borders on triggering some deep wounds left over from the past few years (and the preceding of course).
I’m kind of thinking out loud, so if this is just a me thing or complete BS, I welcome the input. (I heard I missed some while I was away.)
Here’s part of why my brain has been mulling this over:
There are certain conversations my brain is stuck in and I have quite often treated my personal Facebook as a sort of stream-of-consciousness public journal. Sometimes, that’s been quite enjoyable and I’ve developed really good rapport with many of you. Other times, that has left me vulnerable and frayed. Other other times, it’s just been unhelpful, generally.
Many of those conversations have to do with frequently boring yet delicate conversations about politics, Jesus, and Anabaptism. My mind is like a local train, one track with many stops.
I also find myself increasingly convinced that the way we work toward the good, holy ideals of Christ is by being present and engaged with our immediate, local communities.
I agree with John Green: I don’t think we, as a species, are very good at many-to-many communication, yet. Being present in our communities, one body at a time, where we can bridge our differences over the breaking of bread, together, seems to me as the most helpful to participate in the Kingdom of peace.
That’s difficult to do on social media where both parties to a conversation not only have eyes watching from every angle with all their unspoken, subconscious expectations, but there’s also a gap between the parties. We’ve known this for years, of course…
I can’t hear your speech patterns, the inflection of your voice. Is it flat? Rising? Is it sing-song or listless? Are your eyes relaxed or piercing? Is there a tremble as you speak or is it spoken solidly from your chest? Did you break into tears as you read my words or said yours–from anger? compassion? understanding? betrayal?
I could go on, but you get the point.
I’m more and more convinced that what I want my life to be, primarily, focused on are the people right in front of me. Literally, right in front of me: my family, my neighbors, and maybe my neighbors’ neighbors. Perhaps I’m speaking hyperbolically…
I say this as someone who has been constantly–constantly!–online since the day I became a teenager. I say this as someone who shaped my early life around learning how to build community and communicate effectively online. I say this as someone who helped to found or lead a cross section of communities for Christian Gen Z and Gen Alpha teenagers (and though I made so many mistakes, I think it was good work!). Gosh, I met my wife through a niche, Anabaptist-adjacent theological meme group of all places😂
I know and have “preached” for years the value of curating healthy online spaces… And I still see some value in that.
But, I also developed a severe mental health crisis and lost track of my heart. I began to feel like I was a disembodied head…and I honestly kind of think I was.
Part of my healing has involved reattaching my head to my body. Wiggling my arms, and then my fingers, and then my toes–remembering my body and becoming grounded.
Anyways. By george this became a blog post.
Perhaps that’s for the better.
If you’re wondering about whether it’s worth diving into the Marvel Cinematic Universe, it can look pretty daunting. The Infinity Saga alone has 23 films, not to mention those about to begin releasing as the next storylines unfold.