I'm just quitting things right and left. Here's another laureled line to add to my bio:
(( Two-time Facebook Dropout ))
- I may have had some aspirations of living a holy life in the desert, and I couldn’t figure out a way to get the internet in my yurt.
- I may have reminded myself that Wendell Berry seems to have lived a very full, rich life, and he doesn't even use a computer. (Other examples of this include Jesus, anybody born before 1900, and other modern people we haven’t heard of because they don’t use the internet and haven’t written 40 books.)
- I may have been invited to one too many Facebook parties, been tagged in one too many unflattering photos, or had my heart trampled yet again by a dearth of likes on a Very Clever Thing I Said. (So clever!)
Whatever it was, one recent Sunday morning I deleted my account for the second time (I did a short stint on Facebook a few years ago), and have forgotten about it pretty much since then, except when someone brings it up in conversation.
Things I miss:
1. Links to consistently interesting articles from about four people.
2. Photos like this:
3. Seeing everyone’s likes. Just kidding; who would miss that? That is a really awful feature.
To make sure I was clear on why I made this decision, I wrote down my reasoning in my personal notes:
I am deleting my Facebook account today because it does not bring me closer into unity with God, it diminishes the relationships I have with the people directly around me, and it is not essential to the life I feel called to live.
See? Couldn’t get the internet in the yurt.
Facebook is just a tool, but it’s not one I was using very well, which may be partially due to operator weakness and partially because it is actually designed as a brain/soul sucking sort of tool that is also handy for connecting with people, if you can work out that balance.
It simply came up lacking in the cost and benefits analysis for me, so after a little heel dragging, off it goes. Forever? I don’t know. For now.
So… if you need me, I’m here. Write me a letter and tell me your heart. Or come drink some tea with me and see my mess and love me anyway. I don’t need 200 friends; I can hardly dig deep enough with the beautiful little circle that God has blessed me with here. That’s enough for me, and I’m grateful for it.