Defecting from Facebookland

It's an experiment, people.

Sending my thoughts out into the ether all the time can be lonely. Especially when I turn away from the phone or computer, and there is still no one else in the house.

If I leave Facebook, people will not automatically feel as if they know how I am because I posted.

What if I leave Facebook and see more people I love face-to-face or talk to them on the phone more often? What if I am able to be more authentic in person than I am in front of 450+ people, and that leads to deeper friendships? What if my friends and I had to actively seek each other out? Would we value each other more? Maybe. What if, when I'm having a bad day, I actually pray, or go on a walk, or seek out a real hug, or clean something, or do some yoga instead of check my News Feed?

What if friends from out of town come and go, and I don't get to see them because I missed their post? What if I have built such an encouraging online world that to be separated from it is a loneliness in itself? What if Facebook has become a creative outlet for me, and I write less because I'm not on it? What if people I love deeply are in need and I never find out how to pray or to help because I missed it on Facebook?

It's an experiment.

I plan to be off of Facebook until at least after the elections. I can skip all that political posturing and drama this year, I really can.

In the meantime, I'll miss you. Until you call. Or email. Or meet me for tea.

And so begins the experiment.

Bittersweet

Nightmares. Bitter.

Early morning liturgy. Sweet.

Going to the doctor and realizing that I only hate the pregnant women there for a fraction of the time that I used to. Bittersweet.

Telling my friend of my soul's repair and success and having her worry that maybe I will hate her when she is pregnant again. Bitter. I didn't mean it that way. I told her because her eldest son is the first baby that I didn't hate when I realized I would never be a mom. That family has been so redemptive and healing for me. And they don't know it, and they can't understand. Some walk this soil and never know the blessing they are to others.

Getting the sweetest cuddle from her second son. If my soul hadn't healed, I would have missed that!! Sweet.

Meeting with a wonderful woman who is also an "adult of divorce." She reached out to me, took the time. Sweet.

Recounting all of the shocks and sadnesses the divorce has brought me. The confusion, the ironies. Bitter.

Knowing that the thing that she says is the worst part of it is the first thing I had encountered in "processing." Knowing I am not alone, that I can see myself in her eyes. Bittersweet.

Feeling I have gained a friend, knowing that she will pray for me. Sweet.

It's been a bittersweet day.