The Digital Life

They say a picture is worth a thousand words.  A single image can convey a person’s darkness, their light, or the condition of their very soul.  We use images to express feelings that words have not yet caught up to, and to tell stories that imagination alone cannot give shape to.  Once the domain of professional painters, and later photographers, technological advances have now brought high-quality cameras to average citizens, who eagerly snap photos of their daily lives to post in the digital journal of their existence that is called social media.  As we post, we wait for the audience to respond to our stories, our happiness (or at least our mood for the hour) depending on the reaction from our “followers”.

But why do we collect followers?  Has a high “friends” count become some strange status symbol by which we feel society judges us?  Who are those people, the elusive “they”, who judge us based on how many followers we have on Instagram or Twitter?

The human need for validation has taken many forms throughout our history, and now the prevalence of technological means of sharing our lives, thoughts, and personalities has enabled a new avenue for us to seek what we desire.  If we do something we’re proud of, snapping a selfie in front of that mountain we climbed can garner us a series of “likes”, each one expanding our hearts a little bit more with pride.  If we have a bad day, sharing that on social media can elicit a sympathetic heart emoji or “don’t worry, be happy” meme from one or more of our e-connections, making all the pain of the day’s events disappear into the ethereal realm of the great Internet…  Right?

I don’t discount the power of social media to affect our mood, and even be a valuable social tool for those for whom in-person communication with their friends and family is not feasible.  Having moved around a lot between states and even countries, I love the fact that I can reconnect with friends so easily with social media.  It’s certainly less expensive than sending traditional letters in the mail, or placing long-distance phone calls to Greece.  I also have friends who have posted cries for help on these public platforms because that was the only way they could express themselves, and managed to get the help they needed because someone (as someone usually is) was watching.   For these uses, I am eternally grateful! 

But I do wonder why the collective “we” base our feelings of self-worth, even if only partially, on our popularity on the internet.  I will admit that I am somewhat guilty of this as well, especially when it comes to Twitter, where anyone can follow anyone else who has a public account.  Since I don’t have a large following by most standards, comparing my page to that of other socialites of social media (socialmedialites?), can make me feel that either the world doesn’t know I exist, or the world isn’t interested in what I have to say – both equally disappointing scenarios. 

There are many ways in which a person can feel like they matter, whether they are making a difference in someone else’s life, or simply being acknowledged for their own uniqueness.  Social media creates new opportunities for people to seek recognition for some aspect of their lives that is important to them, beyond the traditional interactions of the tangible world.  It creates bridges between people otherwise disconnected, and redefines the parameters of existing relationships through these technologically-based outlets of expression.  My concern peaks its head when we begin to define our worth as social individuals based on this digital realm, and compare our true selves to the manufactured stories and images we create for ourselves and for others in our attempt to market ourselves as popular/beautiful/enviable. 

Granted, as I write this blog, sharing my thoughts and stories with you, I realize that I am also guilty of this, at least in part.  Sure, I would like for my words to be read by others, to provoke thought, and to elicit some sort of recognition, otherwise, I wouldn’t bother writing on the internet.  However, I recognize that an excessive reliance on the opinion of others, whether in-person or through social media, is not a healthy, productive, or reasonable way to live.

Bottom line:  Live your life, post your passions (if you like), and avoid the avalanche (of seeking validation).

Good luck!

Home of the Brave

Something happened today when I was having lunch at a local restaurant.  Something that I’ve never experienced before in my life.  My boyfriend and I were in the middle of eating, enjoying the food as much as our conversation, when all of a sudden, a muffled voice came on the intercom.  Immediately, everyone at the large family table next to us, almost in unison, dropped their forks and stood up.  Still unaware of what was happening, as other tables followed suit one by one, we felt compelled by the collective momentum to do the same.  Then, quickly swallowing the last unsuspecting bites, we found our hands on our hearts as we faced the large American flag hanging down in the middle of the dining hall.  Over the intercom came a voice this time much clearer than the last, joined by the voices of our fellow restaurant-goers singing along to our National Anthem. 

I remember my days of public school in the United States were always kicked off with the Pledge of Allegiance, so the ritual of honoring our country was a daily expectation.  But as an adult, with the exception of sporting events and a few national holidays, I’m rarely exposed to these moments of deference anymore.  Perhaps it was the novelty of the experience today, the collective energy in the room, or the photos of our troops on the walls, but the entire scene moved me. Hearing the Star Spangled Banner in such an unexpected context, surrounded by tables of strangers all interrupting their lunch to stand up as one unified people, in fact felt somewhat surreal.  Had we wandered onto a movie set by accident?  Were we being “punked”?  Surely, this wasn’t normal. 

Even though this sort of thing wasn’t an everyday occurrence in my life, I realized that having designated times of the day for recognizing things you value is quite common in certain faiths, professions, or even families.  For example, I know many families that sit down to dinner with a prayer or a moment of silence to reflect on something important to them before beginning their meal.  For me, this awakened a certain nostalgia, perhaps for my childhood, when daily rituals and designated moments of deference reinforced feelings of camaraderie among us.

Given the current political climate, any reminder of unity is inspiring in its own way.  On a personal level, it was a moment of hope.  It was a reminder that regardless of party affiliation and your position on or in the political landscape, you can still have a profound love for your country, for its people, for its potential.  We are all bound together by our humanity, at the core of which are our values.  For some, standing for the flag and anthem represented a moment of pride, for others, sadness.  For others still, perhaps it was a combination of both or nothing at all.  But all of those feelings were the result of love for something important in our lives, and for the opportunity to recognize those feelings, in that moment, I am grateful.

When the anthem was over, everyone sat down, strangers once again, continuing their meals and conversations as if nothing had happened.  Had they been affected as I had been?  Had they taken advantage of this opportunity for introspection that was given to them?  Did it make them question how they feel about their country and their place in it?  I’ll never know for sure, but I will always hope, for sure.

#DressLikeAWoman

In light of the recent hashtag discussion prompted by reports of the new POTUS’s office dress code expectations, I thought it appropriate to talk a bit about what it means to #DressLikeAWoman, and what factors determine how we think about the issue.  This is not about partisan politics, but about a deeper-rooted question of identity.

When I was a little girl, I had a very special dress I would wear whenever my parents had guests over at our house in Greece.  I still remember its pink tulle and white lace, and how pretty I felt when I put it on.  The entertainer in me would burst out as soon as the door would open, and I’d begin my twirls, curtseys, and coquettish shoulder shrugs.  The visitors would be putty in my 4-year-old hands, bestowing hugs, kisses, and candy as reward for my cuteness.  But the attention that this behavior, coupled with my killer pink dress, got me was the ultimate reward.  It was the reason I, in an almost Pavlovian response, ran towards my dress every time my parents said the word, “visitor”.  When they were gone, I would change back into my pants, retrieve my lightsaber (a.k.a. plastic spoon), and proceed with my Jedi responsibilities of ridding the world of evil.  Why didn’t I let my Star Wars freak flag fly when we had visitors?  Because I was rewarded more for my lace than my lightsaber. 

From an early age, we are given praise for dressing, acting, and speaking a certain way.  We learn from this praise, and often adapt ourselves to fit the expectations of others in such a way that we believe we will be rewarded through compliments, gifts, or a title in a beauty pageant.  Although I feel that we, as a society, are making a shift towards redefining gender roles and expectations over time, there are still social and professional spaces where the differences between man and woman are expected to be demonstrated through a certain appearance, manners, or even tone of voice.  But why do we feel the need to create these boxes to put people in?  Does it make it easier to make sense of our world?  Does it make us feel more secure in who we are?

When we have been told that a woman has long hair, wears a dress, and speaks softly, and then meet a short-haired fireball in a pantsuit, do we judge her as being somehow less feminine?  Looking from the opposite perspective, if we see a soft-spoken, long-haired man, would we judge him as failing to uphold the masculine ideal as well?  Diversity is expressed not only in who we are genetically as individuals, but also in the choices that we each make during the course of our lives.  Since the spectrum of human diversity is what leads to scientific, artistic, and humanitarian breakthroughs, to stifle it would be to stifle human potential.  If we feel the need to impose aesthetic expectations of people based on their sex (much less their gender), perhaps that is a reflection of our own insecurities.  

I’m not suggesting we all stop bathing and go to work in sweat suits.  I understand that each job requires employees to exhibit a level of professionalism that matches the company culture, whether that is a uniform for a police officer, a suit for a lawyer, or a company tee shirt for a summer camp counselor.  I also recognize that different clothes and behaviors make people feel confident.  But to expect men and women to fit into neat boxes based solely on their biology seems to express a limited understanding and valuing of humanity, its rich layers of beauty, and of its potential.

Give Me a Break

Sometimes, the smallest acts can have the most significant effects on our daily lives.  

I’m the sort of person who tires easily of repetition.  I know this about myself, so I try to do what I can to infuse creative variety in my life.  But lately, I let the ball drop, and with it fell my passion, leaving me with a sense of spiritual stagnation.  Being driven and working towards a goal are characteristics of most, if not all, successful people, and yet there is a delicate balance that must be observed in order to preserve one’s sanity. 

After spending every day for the past two weeks either at work or at home (working), I finally deviated from my routine and ventured out into the world again today.  My boyfriend and I took the day to have lunch at a restaurant we hadn’t been to in a while and do some shopping, and I was shocked by how much of a difference the simple change of scenery made for me.  It wasn’t about the chicken I ate or the blouse I bought, but about the fact that I was doing something different from what had become my ordinary day, and it felt invigorating!  It’s so easy to push aside needs that may seem frivolous, or at the very least, not as important as the task at hand, whether that task is tied to our profession, family, school, or other commitments.  But what about the needs of the soul?  

I believe that in order to be truly successful in life – and by successful, I mean having a feeling of accomplishment and being able to enjoy the fruits of that accomplishment – you have to know yourself and your needs.  You have to understand what motivates you, inspires you, and rejuvenates you, and do all you can to make sure you keep these things clearly at the forefront of your mind and incorporated into your days.  If you don’t, what’s the point?  Why do we think it’s okay to neglect the parts of ourselves that make up the unique constellation of the beautiful, quirky women that we are?  Know that, and you’re one step closer to understanding yourself and how to use that knowledge to create the circumstances that will propel you to your own success.

So, in taking a turn in my high-speed-no-scenery train ride through life to enjoy what many people simply call “a Tuesday”, I realized that I need to pay attention to things that will keep me going mentally and spiritually.  Something as simple as a day out changed my entire attitude, and rejuvenated me so I can keep going with my work.  Only this time, I’m happier about it!

Bottom line:  Take a break, ladies.  It’s good for your soul.