A Moment in time - The modern social networks

A thought from the veranda.

Have you ever stopped at a stoplight, looked over at the car next to you, wondering: who are they, do they live close, are they a neighbor, are they happy or are they in crisis, where are they going? What is their story?  Then the driver of the other car turns their head, looks you in the eye; a moment of recognition passes between you, there is, just briefly, an electrical current that connects you. The light changes and both cars move through the light. It is not likely that you will ever meet that person; you will never know the answers to your questions, but you will know their face, remembering always that very brief moment of connection.

Through this blog I have met many people; they visit me and from time to time make nice comments. In exchange, I go to their blog. I gain access to their hopes and dreams, their personal problems, many thoughts and perspectives. It feels that you know them. There are sometimes many exchanges of thoughts and feelings. They become your friend. Often you don’t see a real face. There is never an electrical current but often a mental one seems to be felt. Then they stop coming by. They stop commenting. Their life and interests have taken them elsewhere, to other brief exchanges of thoughts and perspectives.  Fleeting, friendships in transit; some fade quickly and some you remember several years later, feeling their loss; feeling ‘saudade’ as they say here in Brasil.

Now Facebook has emerged.  I wanted to see what all the fervor was about so I signed up. The program immediately searches your private contacts, email addresses in outlook and contacts on Skype, and says, “Ask them to be your friend”. I did, and I have to admit that I like the ‘contact’ with all my family. Through Facebook, I now see brief glimpses into the lives of nephews and nieces. I see photos of their daily activities, of their children. I hear how they feel on any given day, and in a very remote way can feel connected. I joined a group called ‘growing up in Adrian’, a discussion group that asks, ‘Do you remember when / who / what?’ I don’t, but it was fun for a while to follow, and in a remote way feel connected.  I found a few people known from the blog comments, and added them as ‘friends’ and now see them talk back and forth with their friends and family, people I don’t and will never know and find these connections to be too remote to have meaning.

I have sat here for about 20 minutes, typing then erasing sentences. They have sounded so…. well, depressing and that was not my intent, really this is only an observation on modern life, so let me try and finish  ...

…. But now a year on Facebook has brought me to this place; this place of realization that reading about peoples’ daily thoughts and activities is not being connected. This is not a moment of electrical current, a moment of understanding in the touch of a hand, or a forged friendship that will last a lifetime.  This is socialization once removed. This is city dwelling run amok; this is another short lived effort to find our place in the world, to be a part of, to belong.   I think it will be found, in the end, to be artificial and therefore temporary.  Do you remember the CB craze in the 70s – socialization once removed.  Ten-four big Charley

Loss of my friend

Right at this moment I wish I had Gordon’s or Mark’s talent for words – how do I tell you about the jumble of feelings, sadness, anger, guilt, that I am going through. Last month – just a month ago I featured Luisa on the Friday Shoot out - celebrate life today she is gone. One short month when I wasn’t looking, one month that I was doing my normal stuff: going to the gym, having parties, going to weddings, eating lunch on the veranda, walking down for a beer at DeVassa, how petty it all seems, and she is gone.

How many times in that one month did I not call, it was to late or too early, or I was tired or mad, how many times, and she is gone.

Time I spent on the internet, blogging commenting with strangers, and she was here alone. How is this possible? 3 days she spent alone here, ill and failing, how is it possible that I did not call, and she is gone.

I keep turning to tell her something, to laugh with her as I clean her home, her history …. why am I here now when she is gone? How did I miss this last month, only one month and she is gone.

Thoughts from the Veranda

An inch of common ground

For the past week I have been DEEP into blogging.

I now have 9 ‘followers’ and I have visited each of their blogs. From those blogs I have gone to THEIR followers’ blogs and onward until I was lost in cyberspace. I have left comments whenever moved to comment, sat in silent contemplation at others, and at times been overjoyed by what was being said – thought – shared and the connection to my thoughts shared or not.

 

I can remember what I have read and the thoughts provoked – but not necessarily where I found those words.  I cannot call those that have touched me with their thoughts ‘friends’ – I don’t know if I will ever touch them again. There are so many bloggers out there with something to share.

It is incredible - this special group of people. Even with just a moment spent with each of you, I could never read all of what is being said.

 

Today sitting on the veranda, my feet propped on the railing in our warm sunshine, I was thinking WHY all these strangers? What is happening here that I find touching them for only one moment feels so good?

 

Do I not have friends or family to meet my social needs? Well no I don’t. All these strangers, no matter how distant, no matter their land of origin or their native tongue, have something in common with me.

It may be that they are strangers in a foreign land, or they are grandparents far from their grandchildren, or they like to cook or to take photos outside their homes, or that they are women raised in the 50s still trying to find their way out into the modern world.  Maybe they see in a poem what I see in the camera. We all share just an inch of common ground that added up allows us to be a part of the patchwork of a very lonely and complex world. Thank you all for allowing me to share, to be a part of the world OUT THERE, outside of my veranda.

Exceptional weekend

Times goes by; most days, weeks, months pass without any markers, nothing that will help us remember later when things happen. So as an 'older' adult it seems as though our memory is failing, but it is just that we do not have sufficient memory markers to hold happenings in place. This weekend was one to remember, I am placing my own marker - the weekend of July 1, 2007. This weekend was exceptionally sweet; the sunrises bright, holding promise of a sky of soft pastel blue, with clear grey, non threatening clouds;

 the night sky bright with its full moon hanging over the valley,

 

and the homey smell of fresh made orange marmalade throughout the house. These are the sights, smells that I will tag for the memory of feeling of home

Exactly four years, three months of living in Brazil and

on this exceptional weekend. 

 

I finally felt at home.