This past year, was the year I least enjoyed Facebook and had no problem signing over and out pre-summer. Politics, differences, fake news, real news, just seemed to permeate my news feed and I had a hard time practicing my Zen space and spent more time expressing my first amendment rights. In other words, I could not keep my big, fat, opinionated mouth shut. It was time to accept sometimes ignorance is bliss. Deactivate! Deactivate!
I've pursued these sabbaticals for a number of years now and have discovered when I log off social media for a few months, it opens up a huge chunk of time and forces my lazy little addicted brain, to find pleasure in ways that are healthier for me. I read more books in 3-4 months than I read the rest of the year. I get creative with my time and try new recipes, projects, find free community events, and most of all, enjoy the kind of face-time done in the flesh rather than cyber connecting. The sound of a voice, a laugh, sharing and/or wiping a tear, and the feel of a long bear hug is far more nurturing to me and has become precious. Special moments sometimes need to be held close- not necessarily shared with the world. That can dilute its magic. The break from social media also forces me to be present in a world that surely does have its lumps and bumps, but teases and tickles my curiosity to explore and change up my navigational tools. What I used to perceive as boredom has become quality time between me and God if I take the time to just sit with it and let the creativity wash over me.
I am, however, always glad to get back. For awhile. It's good to know that I'm missed and that I have a voice that some actually enjoy hearing. And, being a long-time Facebooker (2007) I have learned to respect the rights (and not get hurt or offended) of those who think I have nothing of value to offer in my posts, and scroll on by. The upside of Facebook is every now and again, we get a little boost - a positive jab to our ego, a reminder that we can often be our worst critic. Others can see us differently at times when we most need to still the voice of our own criticism. I must confess I enjoyed the strokes to my ego when I logged back onto Facebook a day or so ago.
Posting a new, realistic profile picture, current and casual, I was overwhelmed by sweet comments, especially the ones that spoke about my "agelessness". What baby boomer on the older edges of boomer-hood wouldn't enjoy hearing that!? It was a nice thing to say and I privately felt so grateful for such kind words written about my 63 year old visage posted under my profile pic. The younger baby boomer in me (50 something) would have been highly critical and seen myself through a set of harsh eyes. Boring, dull hair, fading eyes, thinner lips accentuated by the vertical lines above the upper, collapsing neck, which makes the grand-kids laugh when I dance and it "shakes that thang" underneath. This is the true definition of the Chicken Dance.
But, this time, I squinted really hard, like I was gazing at the solar eclipse through my cheap cereal box projector and saw the view was still pretty cool. Not quite as spectacular or showy as seeing it through special eclipse glasses and no one would likely say it was a phenomenal sight. It was however, a serene face with eyes that were so deep, you could spend a lifetime unveiling the stories. There was a sense of peace and acceptance in that face. The few lines around the mouth spoke volumes of how often it was stretched into contented smiles with just a whiff of smokers lips; a reminder that there was a past there just in case the brains that went with that face ever got a little cocky and needed reminded to be grateful for new beginnings.
It was true, in comparison to many of my retirement age buddies, I did appear to have smoother skin, fewer wrinkles, which I immediately attributed to the 40 pounds of additional fluffiness. But, I've even learned not to be so stressed about that either. There is an upside to those extra pounds. Clearly they've plumped up those facial wrinkles without the use of fillers. As my new family doctor tells me (he is about my age- that's why I picked him) in many cultures my body would be greatly desired. Plump is a sign of wealth and prosperity. Gotta love an optimist. While honestly, I haven't been 100% thrilled with the extra pounds, I am comfortable with me and my relatively laid back attitude towards them. I no longer want to blame, multiple surgeries, long recoveries and the inability to exercise for my weight gain, because the important thing is, my dear body survived all of that and is recovering from that trauma. Amazing. It seems almost ungrateful to be so incredibly critical and derogatory and put my focus on appearances rather than health. So, I don't anymore. At this age, I want to be able to eat pasta, full-fat yogurt, and my Lindor truffles - some of the time. I am moving slower, but I like to think of it as intentionally treating my body in gentler, more tender ways that serve this old broad better - yoga, stationary bike riding in front of a good Netflix show, losing the ego and looking for the blessings - my body will shrink, in time. Or not.
I can't thank those Facebook buddies that took the time to comment enough for the wonderful words. I may not always like the things that have been happening to my boomer bod, but I sure do love what's happening to my optimism and perspective.
We all need to take a time out. You are just intelligent enough to actually do it. I would miss so much of our grandson's activities that I don't take a time out. He has scouts and 4H and church and there is a lot he does in summer. Yesterday the other one took his first unsupported steps and his momma posted a video.
ReplyDeleteThere are many positives to Facebook and you described one important one! Grandkiddos!
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