Seriously, Don’t Look
Wednesday I was driving home from dropping Lauren off at her weekly neurodiverse hang out and I just felt happy. I was driving towards the mountains and the view was gorgeous. I was listening to a mix Helen put on my phone that was like the modern version of Buena Vista Social Club. It was one of those rare and wonderful moments of being alone in the car with music and a view. I have loved those times since I was 16 and driving curvy roads in Mansfield. Before the people and houses and retail. Back when blue skies and cornfields were all you could see.
I realized Wednesday that this alone time was more important than ever. Only now, it wasn’t as much an escape from real people but the ones I am tempted to argue with online. For years I have avoided the pitfalls of reading or participating in the cluster that is the comment section of articles. I don’t know what has changed or what has driven me to look at them lately but geeze, they are awful. I mean, everyone knows this right? WE all know that these are just hideous little microcosms of anger and frustration but holy shit, it is so easy to get sucked into the train wreck. And then I just feel all mad and disappointed in the world. I have had to retrain myself not to look. Not to read one single comment. If there is one bit of social media that could disappear and we would all be better for it, it is the online feuds between complete strangers. And it is everything. I mean politics of course, but anything can ignite online warfare. Grammar can set even the most mild mannered librarian into a tizzy. For a while we had the notorious gang rivalry between the Boomers and Millennials.
Because you know, when one was born is something to get riled up over. My children still harbor much resentment against the Karens of the world. Though when confronted directly on their actual interactions with said Karens, neither can give me concrete examples. But I am assured this is worthy of dedicating quite a few angry brain cells to.
And I guess this is the crux of my issue. It feels very much like the world is competing for my anger. The online world wants my attention, and I guess the algorithms find the easiest way to engage people is to enrage them. Again, something we all know and yet…..even knowing it is a trap, I still sometimes fall in. And a fall usually results in hours wasted that I will never get back. And at 57, I don’t need to waste hours being right with people I don’t know. It is stupid. Stupid, stupid, stupid! And yet on some articles I will read they have 5 or 6000 comments. So lots and lots of us are busy being stupid.
It reminds me of my brain on my ex-husband. In the months before I left him, most of my thoughts were absorbed with being angry, unhappy, guilty, frustrated and just full of negativity. The weight of all of that was lifted when I was out. It was as if my brain had been freed. Suddenly, I could enjoy life because I wasn’t mad all the time. We have currently chained ourselves to a bad online marriage.
Sure, there are real things in the world to be upset about, and they warrant action. But arguing online is distraction not action. It shackles us to a conversation that is going nowhere. Unlike volunteering at a Soup Kitchen or participating in a trail clean up or even going to a play or local festival. Being part of a real community where people are working or enjoying something together. Monday I was walking on my normal trail and while I was taking pictures, a man who had been trail jogging sat on the reward bench. It is positioned at the perfect spot to take in the Flat Irons and Long’s Peak. It is lovely. I said as much to the man in passing. To my surprise, he was more than happy to engage. There is a fine line on these trails. People are often there to enjoy the solitude so interacting happens with a light touch. He chuckled that since the bench had been added to the trail, it sabotaged his work out. He now spends 20 minutes cooling off and enjoying the view before carrying on. But we both knew that this is exactly the type of distraction we humans need. 20 minutes listening to song birds, watching the way clouds cast shadows across the mountains and enjoying green appear where it has been brown for months and months.
When I am in my car listening to Chan Chan, or on open land silently passing other walkers, it feels like my brain is charging up. It reminds me why I care about clean air and water and biodiversity. It isn’t because I want to fight with someone online. It is because I actually love these things. I actually love most people. I love the little girl next door who shows up unannounced at the front door to give us handmade cards and tomato plants. I love the Renaissance summer camps that were happening at the park we were at yesterday. Tons of whipper snappers battling in capes with pool noodle swords.
Disengaging from the online outrage and re-engaging in community and yourself isn’t detaching from what is going on. It is reconnecting to a world that is going about its daily business. Helping someone look for a lost dog, holding the door open for the person after you, looking for the milk container with the longest expiration date. That world isn’t following you down the sidewalk trying to pick a fight because you are wearing socks with your Birkenstocks. That world tends to rejoice in the glimpse of a rainbow. Whereas the online world will argue for days on whether or not it was a good or bad rainbow. Some will think it was too short, too long, too dull, not a double rainbow and therefore a crap rainbow. Everyone will get mad and be right and then there will be sides and some will think it was a conservative rainbow and some will think the clouds are too liberal. The result, no one enjoys the rainbow. I want to enjoy the rainbow. I want everyone to enjoy it. I know I will fall back into the hole. It is inevitable. But today I am looking up, and the view is amazing.
