I think Facebook is great. Not a perfect platform, but for my needs, it's great. I can post thoughts, funnies, or pics, and everyone on my Friends list can look (or not!) to their heart's content. I don't have to print off a pic and mail it to a few people, then ask those people to share it when other friends/relatives happen to come around. I don't have to remember a joke, and the punch line, when I can just post it, either to a specific person's timeline, or to my own, and tag those I would especially like to have see it.
The point I would like to ponder is; when a group is created for a common purpose or interest, should we consider it to be entertainment, or do we ultimately attain an emotional attachment to whatever cause, person or interest we have signed up for?
My prime example of this started when social media and TV informed me of a family in need. The story was picked up as the family needed help in a medical situation. (To protect their privacy I will not be using their names!) The story caught my attention, because a) it was a little kid. b) it was my hometown. c) the disease had personally affected my family. It tugged at my heartstrings, and while I would not be able to help them with their quest, as I was too old, too far away, and the wrong gender, it did not stop the ramifications of what this family was going through. Some time passed, and I never did see any kind of follow-up on the news. I then did what a relative terms "creeping" on Facebook. I remembered the family's name, so it was a fairly simple search. Bingo, they had a Facebook page dedicated to their child's predicament. The group was open and public, so I could see everything without actually asking to join. I perused a bit, seeing that at that point in time the child seemed to be all right. If not all right, then at least stable.
At this point, not knowing these people, I will admit my occasional "creeping" was probably more entertainment, putting it crudely. I found myself wanting to check in every once in a while to make sure this child was doing okay. What possessed me when I didn't even know these people? I'm not sure, but the parents were very good at submitting updates to the group to let all the concerned members know what was going on.
My "check-ins" were innocent enough, it's not like I ever asked to join. I was content to look in every now and then to see happy little tidbits of what looked like a return to normalcy for these folks that I did not envy. All that changed about a month or so ago. I happened to look up the group, as I had not done a check-in for a while. I felt my heart get a bit heavier as I read about the latest development with the health problem. Sadly, the child seemed to be going downhill. At this point all of my contact about this family is still just social media, but the updates were flying thick and fast. My frequency of looking in went WAY up. I could sympathize. I asked to join at this time, as I was looking in daily, and it just felt right. Now the updates were showing up on my feed, making it that much easier to look in. I have never met this family, yet here I am feeling as if they have allowed me a front row seat to the unfortunate drama in their lives. As soon as mention of a gofundme page was posted, I was checking it out, and making a donation seemed like the most natural and right thing to do. I was grateful that my own children didn't have the burden and fear of a life-threatening illness crushing them. I have sat in the hospital with my own sister through her cancer burden, remembering how hopeful I felt, even as the "treatment," made her sicker. She seemed to have the right attitude,so I had every reason to think she would kick the big C's ass to the curb. She did for a time. Sadly, the big C did end up winning in the end. I don't know if it's because I know so few true cancer survivors, that I find myself rooting for people fighting the good fight.
What got me was the sheer volume of comments and interest in every update. If a day or two went by with nothing new, I would find myself wondering, then hope that "no news is good news." I also reminded myself that the family was looking out for their 1st priority, their sick child. It made me realize that we never truly know another's perspective. I remember lots of hospital visits were mostly sitting around, especially if my sister was in the middle of chemo, or sick from some complication of her disease. Maybe that's when this family found it most advantageous to post updates they wished to share with their Facebook audience. I wouldn't know, as Facebook did not exist at the time of my sister's illness. I'm not certain she would have wanted us to share photos of her at her worst anyhow. Somehow, I wouldn't feel right taking a bunch of photos of being ill in hospital. That might just be me though! I will state that I am not slamming anyone who practices this. Maybe this is a way to see a journey on social media.
What got me was well-meaning folks asking for updates! I understand how they felt, but it seemed super-forward to actually ask! Someone came on and gave a cyber-tongue lashing to folks asking for updates. It may have come from a well-intended place, but all I could think is, how presumptuous! It's is the family's page, and I think it is only their place to decide the frequency of updates.
All of this got me thinking, social media is seen primarily as entertainment, but there are aspects of it that can hit a deep emotional chord. Folks think there is disconnect when we are online, but I can disagree. I find myself feeling attached to people or causes I might otherwise not have known existed. I may have otherwise just seen this story on the news and let it recede to the murky depths of my memory. I may have wondered from time to time, without ever finding out how it was going.
With all the BS going on in this world of ours, I'm all for social media to make me more aware, sympathetic, and possibly even active where I can make a difference, even if it is a small one!
Thursday, June 30, 2016
Sunday, February 7, 2016
Thoughts on "That Time of the Month..."
Part of getting over some of my discomforts is to consider the things about myself that make me squirm a little. A blog about private things I will share may be a little unnerving, but I am building up to bigger things I may want to reveal. As the acronym RAYOR suggests, read anything I post at your own risk. If you feel personally offended or disgusted by my current topic of choice, please feel free to leave!
As I am firmly planted in the reality of being female, I have had what some have called the privilege of a menstrual cycle. This involuntary occurrence has been mine to deal with for nearly three decades. At the beginning, we were all fed the notion that getting this cycle meant we were growing up, and when you're a kid, what could you want more than that? Even though your cycle was supposed to be sort of your own private secret, we girls all sort of knew who "had" it, and who had "not got it". I always sort of thought it was cool that menstrual cycles sort of leveled the playing field. Just because you were pretty and popular didn't mean you would be bestowed with the gift of growing up before some of your more average counterparts. (I got mine before a few of my more popular classmates, kind of a ha-ha, at the time.) I remember the teacher telling us all that IF "it", started at school, it would not be a big deal, and no one would know. I can say I call BULLSHIT on that! I was in Grade 7, and I remember feeling terrified, as I could feel that something was "running" out of me, and that I had NO control over it! It was a worse feeling than peeing yourself, as this was unexpected, and nothing like the teacher said it would be.
I remember telling myself to stay firmly put until recess, and wait until all my other classmates exited the room. I would them wrap a coat around myself, head to the office to get one of the emergency brown bags we were told would be there in case. A good friend of mine helped out with this. The brown bag was great, except for the mess I had now had to deal with. I had to get my friend to double back to the office to get them to call my Mum. I guess no one thought the first time would start with a bang the way it did!
Once this rite of passage had happened, I now knew this was going to be a regular thing, so I actually had to start being a bit organized so I would not be caught unaware or off-guard. For the first few years things went reasonably okay as far as cycles go. It was fairly predictable, which made things a little easier. Around the time I turned sixteen, another element came into play--cramps! Man, it was a bitch to suddenly start having them in the mix every month. I can recall times they were so bad, I actually missed school, as they left me curled up and feeling useless. Happily, I did find some pain relievers which took the edge off, but I have rarely been able to completely eradicate them from my cycle since.
Some things I have found to work to some degree over the years: iron tablets, Midol, hot soaks, and since having kids, Aleve, for about three days. Occasionally, I have had positive self-talk take the edge off, which helps!
A positive aspect of my cycle that I do like is the relative regularity I have been bestowed with. In my twenties, I could pinpoint my start days almost perfectly. After further research, I was able to determine ovulation times fairly accurately as well. I'm not bragging here or anything, but I have never been on birth control, though I had family members who believed I was. I was able to use my personal body knowledge to my advantage having kids. I knew the right window of time, and it worked four times. (I got three full-term babies as my reward.) I felt cheated out of the miscarried baby for quite a while--but it is true, time heals a lot of emotional wounds.
The inverse is also true, I have for many years been able to avoid those windows when I didn't want to have kids. I must have been doing something right, as I don't have 15-20 kids like some of those families on TV.
I must be past the baby days, as I am finding that time of the month more tedious as I inch ever closer to the big 4-0. It's way less exciting to get the twinges and aches that signal, yay, no baby again this month! It's more, sigh, here we go again, just get through these few days, where's the Aleve? Is there enough for a few days? Okay, then good, I think I can do this!
I'm sure when it's all over I will feel old. I may even miss the ritualistic regularity, but seeing when you're young you can't wait for it to start, it feels like the whole age and wisdom perception thing, where I might just be waiting for it to be over!
As I am firmly planted in the reality of being female, I have had what some have called the privilege of a menstrual cycle. This involuntary occurrence has been mine to deal with for nearly three decades. At the beginning, we were all fed the notion that getting this cycle meant we were growing up, and when you're a kid, what could you want more than that? Even though your cycle was supposed to be sort of your own private secret, we girls all sort of knew who "had" it, and who had "not got it". I always sort of thought it was cool that menstrual cycles sort of leveled the playing field. Just because you were pretty and popular didn't mean you would be bestowed with the gift of growing up before some of your more average counterparts. (I got mine before a few of my more popular classmates, kind of a ha-ha, at the time.) I remember the teacher telling us all that IF "it", started at school, it would not be a big deal, and no one would know. I can say I call BULLSHIT on that! I was in Grade 7, and I remember feeling terrified, as I could feel that something was "running" out of me, and that I had NO control over it! It was a worse feeling than peeing yourself, as this was unexpected, and nothing like the teacher said it would be.
I remember telling myself to stay firmly put until recess, and wait until all my other classmates exited the room. I would them wrap a coat around myself, head to the office to get one of the emergency brown bags we were told would be there in case. A good friend of mine helped out with this. The brown bag was great, except for the mess I had now had to deal with. I had to get my friend to double back to the office to get them to call my Mum. I guess no one thought the first time would start with a bang the way it did!
Once this rite of passage had happened, I now knew this was going to be a regular thing, so I actually had to start being a bit organized so I would not be caught unaware or off-guard. For the first few years things went reasonably okay as far as cycles go. It was fairly predictable, which made things a little easier. Around the time I turned sixteen, another element came into play--cramps! Man, it was a bitch to suddenly start having them in the mix every month. I can recall times they were so bad, I actually missed school, as they left me curled up and feeling useless. Happily, I did find some pain relievers which took the edge off, but I have rarely been able to completely eradicate them from my cycle since.
Some things I have found to work to some degree over the years: iron tablets, Midol, hot soaks, and since having kids, Aleve, for about three days. Occasionally, I have had positive self-talk take the edge off, which helps!
A positive aspect of my cycle that I do like is the relative regularity I have been bestowed with. In my twenties, I could pinpoint my start days almost perfectly. After further research, I was able to determine ovulation times fairly accurately as well. I'm not bragging here or anything, but I have never been on birth control, though I had family members who believed I was. I was able to use my personal body knowledge to my advantage having kids. I knew the right window of time, and it worked four times. (I got three full-term babies as my reward.) I felt cheated out of the miscarried baby for quite a while--but it is true, time heals a lot of emotional wounds.
The inverse is also true, I have for many years been able to avoid those windows when I didn't want to have kids. I must have been doing something right, as I don't have 15-20 kids like some of those families on TV.
I must be past the baby days, as I am finding that time of the month more tedious as I inch ever closer to the big 4-0. It's way less exciting to get the twinges and aches that signal, yay, no baby again this month! It's more, sigh, here we go again, just get through these few days, where's the Aleve? Is there enough for a few days? Okay, then good, I think I can do this!
I'm sure when it's all over I will feel old. I may even miss the ritualistic regularity, but seeing when you're young you can't wait for it to start, it feels like the whole age and wisdom perception thing, where I might just be waiting for it to be over!
Saturday, January 30, 2016
Quest for Freedom
This is my freedom year. I plan to free myself from anything that restricts me. I don't mean the day to day of jobs, kids, or paying bills (but, hell it would be welcome to drop some of the more tedious aspects of life!)
I am going to free myself of restrictive thinking and actions. Instead of worrying, I will take a more positive approach to whatever I do. I want to shed old ways of thinking that don't serve me well. In the past I have put too much emphasis on what others might think. My new, improved train of thought might say, this is what I need/want to do--I'm doing it!
Someone reading this might just be thinking, "So simple, so less writing about it, just get on with it." Easier said than done! I have been coming around to making changes to a mindset I may as well have set in concrete.
My notation of plans here is a chipping away at that solid mass, so that I may build something just as strong, but better in its place! There are going to be times that effort will look/feel wasted or stalled. I will get a glimpse of a crack, and be re-energized to renew efforts. No one else should be shaping what I should be. I have the reins of my own life. If thinking and doing good makes me feel awesome, you can be damn sure I will be doing it!
I also aim to be more comfortable in my own skin. I appreciate that my body looks after me, so I in return should be showing it more love. I may have some "excesses" but they are part of the life story. I have to admit the idea of doing a bunch of work to look like a model doesn't really appeal to me, and I love my food too much to do anything in that department. The previous statements do not mean that I plan to just ignore my health. I can do moderation. I like enough different foods to keep all of me happy. This gal won't be sweating it out in a gym. I don't believe in resolutions at New Year. I won't be a failure if I don't finish changing my mindset and attitude by this time next year. As long as I am a better version of myself!
To all of you who make my heart sing with your presence and conversation, I need to let you know I love you. I sometimes forget that even though I have said this affirmatively in my head, oops maybe the over-thinker in my brain never thought saying this out loud was prudent or necessary. The over-thinker thought it might get a weird look or a brush-off. Life is too damn short not to tell folks you love them. Just like saying "Thank you!" Neither thing is wrong to say. Bring on the puzzled looks, but I will be opening the mouth to drop these tidbits where necessary. I have mentioned gratitude and inspiration many a time in the past. Love and thanks encompass both.
I think the lines from Merry Go Round are resonating here: Slow down, we've been turning for too long. Slow down, cause I'm barely holding on, and I don't know if I can make it another time around. I don't want to keep going around and around in the same circles at the same speed, doing the same old, thinking the same old thoughts. I need to slow down, renew my grip and figure out where I WANT to go!
I am going to free myself of restrictive thinking and actions. Instead of worrying, I will take a more positive approach to whatever I do. I want to shed old ways of thinking that don't serve me well. In the past I have put too much emphasis on what others might think. My new, improved train of thought might say, this is what I need/want to do--I'm doing it!
Someone reading this might just be thinking, "So simple, so less writing about it, just get on with it." Easier said than done! I have been coming around to making changes to a mindset I may as well have set in concrete.
My notation of plans here is a chipping away at that solid mass, so that I may build something just as strong, but better in its place! There are going to be times that effort will look/feel wasted or stalled. I will get a glimpse of a crack, and be re-energized to renew efforts. No one else should be shaping what I should be. I have the reins of my own life. If thinking and doing good makes me feel awesome, you can be damn sure I will be doing it!
I also aim to be more comfortable in my own skin. I appreciate that my body looks after me, so I in return should be showing it more love. I may have some "excesses" but they are part of the life story. I have to admit the idea of doing a bunch of work to look like a model doesn't really appeal to me, and I love my food too much to do anything in that department. The previous statements do not mean that I plan to just ignore my health. I can do moderation. I like enough different foods to keep all of me happy. This gal won't be sweating it out in a gym. I don't believe in resolutions at New Year. I won't be a failure if I don't finish changing my mindset and attitude by this time next year. As long as I am a better version of myself!
To all of you who make my heart sing with your presence and conversation, I need to let you know I love you. I sometimes forget that even though I have said this affirmatively in my head, oops maybe the over-thinker in my brain never thought saying this out loud was prudent or necessary. The over-thinker thought it might get a weird look or a brush-off. Life is too damn short not to tell folks you love them. Just like saying "Thank you!" Neither thing is wrong to say. Bring on the puzzled looks, but I will be opening the mouth to drop these tidbits where necessary. I have mentioned gratitude and inspiration many a time in the past. Love and thanks encompass both.
I think the lines from Merry Go Round are resonating here: Slow down, we've been turning for too long. Slow down, cause I'm barely holding on, and I don't know if I can make it another time around. I don't want to keep going around and around in the same circles at the same speed, doing the same old, thinking the same old thoughts. I need to slow down, renew my grip and figure out where I WANT to go!
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