Monday, February 12, 2018

Radio Silence

How are you, baby? I've missed you.

It's been over 3 weeks of no Facebook post with a witty status about my interaction with the Target cashier. No photograph of whatever organic, grain free, no sugar, hippie food I've whipped up. Nary a peep about my most recent projects and potions. Where is the barrage of Horsecrappery that littered Facebook & Instagram? Bueller?...Bueller?... Bueller?

Here is the bloody, bloody truth, social media was too distracting for me. Last year, when my dad took his last breath, mine went with him. I've toiled something fierce with a lonesome ache. A feeling only understood in a way that's unfathomable to anyone not in the struggle. You are blindsided but what you can't know. Social media has been my safe, meticulously crafted way to interact with the world. A way to dip my toe into the proverbial pond without getting wet. A picture is worth a 1,000 words, but it never told the whole story. How foolish to believe it ever could. 

The heavier my social media usage, the harder it was to have joy. Happiness is,"I am happy until my cherub fingers frantically scrabble around a disappointingly empty, greasy Mcdonald's French fry container." - Stephanie Marie. (Preach) Joy is a much more deeply rooted, intentional practice. I'm about 47 lbs down on a 100 lb weight loss goal. It's been an amazing journey with a rebar-supported sports bra & sweet sweat. A journey fraught with set backs, sickness, and broken bones, I'm a little less muffin top. When I would root & rummage through social media hashtags about weight loss, I would beat myself because I wasn't where I wanted to be.  A little old picture of someone's sliver of a story, would send me on a self-pity party. I don't care what Fergie said, big girls do cry. 

Another reason I walked away was because my FB & Insta were always on the back of my mind. If this interaction only makes 25 people laugh, why can't it make 50 people laugh? What is wrong with me? The real question is, WHO CARES? Me! but, WHY?  Facebook and Instagram had me living and dying with each post. I've always wanted to be a writer. Means get my duff off of FB & start typin! It's a year of culling what doesn't serve me. It's a year of cultivating what does. My hashtagged, as all get out, Insta posts, don't have a lasting impact on people. Why spend irreplaceable moments arranging my latest project for strangers to tell me I am creative and talented? Filters are not our friends. They keep us lonely. The ugly truth is rather beautiful. Even when it breaks your heart. And your can't see past your own nose.

My connections haven't changed since my ether hiatus. If anything, I remember why I love the ones I love. Social interactions aren't relegated to likes or comments. I cook for my shrinking muffin top. The nourishment comes to my soul and body when I spend time in my kitchen. That is enough for me. I need to walk away from self aggrandizing behaviors and practices. Hope for me yet. Much in store. Stay tuned! 




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