strange praise for twitter

I love Twitter. I use Twitter regularly. Okay, obsessively. I've turned into one of those people who log in expecting to write one haiku and that's it, and then two hours later, I'm still there eating virtual pancakes or having a dance party or swapping bad puns with friends (in case you don't use Twitter, yes, all of these are possible and recommended). 

There are excellent people on Twitter, really kind and thoughtful. There are people who take time to answer questions. There are people who celebrate when something important happens in your life. There are people who will send you whatever makes you feel better --jokes, cats, music, words, etc. --when they notice you are feeling low. There are people who commiserate with you as we stumble through years like 2016. I seek these people out because everybody needs more of that in their lives.

At times, though, there are those among us Twitter users who can't ask for what we need, or we interact in a way that may challenge others' patience. These people need the same things as the rest of us, but sometimes, they get stuck in patterns of behavior that don't help their cause. They feel despair, panic, anger, fear, existential nothingness, ... . I have friends like this.

There is a history of mental illness in my family. Amongst our motley crew, there's anxiety, depression, bipolar disorder, and personality disorder lurking around. I recognize behaviors consistent with these labels in wonderful people I have met through Twitter. That description above about people who answer questions and send you things and commiserate? In my case, I've noticed, the people who are first to offer kindness are often the ones who need it, too. And sometimes, the people who are first to offer kindness are the most challenged in seeking it out and receiving it --and, in some cases, even recognizing it. They are the most sensitive and the least sensitive.

Twitter allows people with limited social contact to have contact with other people. It's not the same as face-to-face interaction, but in some cases, it is a lifeline. If you have not experienced social isolation, I hope you never do --there are psychological experiments on its effects that are no longer permitted as they are considered inhumane. People are made to be with people, but in the meantime, there's Twitter. 

If you use Twitter and you know someone who has mental health challenges and experiences social isolation, regardless of negative experiences you may have had with him or her unless those experiences meant threats to safety, please consider reaching out to tweet hello. This doesn't mean you condone or excuse any behavior that makes you uncomfortable, but it does mean you accept him or her as a fellow human being. I say the same thing to my friends who have mental health challenges and experience social isolation --you can also tweet hello to people, and you don't have to condone or excuse anything that makes you uncomfortable. The 5 characters required to type 'hello' (6, if you add an exclamation point!) can make a world of difference. 

You'll be using Twitter for its most ideal purpose --keeping the world connected. 




[Note added 13 November, 2016: Reaching out is now more important than ever. You do not have to agree with everyone, you do not have to like everyone, but if we are to move forward in this world that seems to be splitting into pieces, we need to maintain respectful contact with other human beings. Sometimes, we can't talk about more than "Hello" or "Have a nice day", and that's okay. Please try. And please take care of yourselves and each other.] 

completely fluffy & pointless

The Republican National Convention finished up last night. It was ...an experience and I ...learned a lot. I'll leave it at that. If you would like to learn more about what was said there, go out and read it and watch the videos. You too can learn a lot by doing that --just make sure you take your blood pressure medication first. And now, without further ado, I hereby declare this blog post politics free!

...

Fluffy & pointless. Okay, I can do this. Um. I'm out of practice after last night. Um.

...

Bunnies! Bunnies are fluffy! Okay! They have soft fur & wrinkly little noses. I think they love to eat cabbages more than carrots. I'm not sure. Bunnies are defenseless little creatures. We need to protect the bunnies. The bunnies are all ours to protect. We need to build a wall to protect them!

Whoops! Sorry. Let's try again.


...

A silly little poem! Let me try one of those. That will be nice.

Cakes, balloons, & buttercups

& happy birthday presents - 

If someone tries to take these things,

I'll shoot them all like pheasants!

Oh! Not what I was going for. Sorry ...  


...

Maybe it is pointless to try to do this right now. Fluffy bunnies & cakes & balloons & buttercups & presents are all wonderful things. They're all worth protecting. I have no problem with protecting good things; the problem is when we lose sight of the goodness --their goodness & our own --in our desire to protect what is good. The goodness is not fluffy. The goodness is not pointless. The goodness is what makes this world a great place. Let's try to focus on that instead of anger & fear & violence & isolation. 

Does anyone have a silly kitty picture they could share ...?  

everyday heroes: civic engagement

Civic engagement.

I just finished watching the press conference in which Donald Trump introduced Mike Pence as his running mate for President in 2016. In full disclosure: neither of these men are my everyday hero. In fact, I think I may have had an aneurysm listening to what they had to say. One thing in particular that Mike Pence had to say struck me. He spoke poorly of the "intellectual elite in a distant capital" and  spoke highly of people taking care of themselves and self-reliance. I have no issues with self-reliance; I understand and agree that we are ultimately responsible for ourselves. No, my issue is with the idea that there is some cabal in Washington, D.C. who do things to us without our consent.

Our government is one " ...of the people, by the people, and for the people" (thank you, Abraham Lincoln). We are fortunate to live in a democracy. We are fortunate to live in a country where we can exchange ideas --even disagreeable ones --freely. We are fortunate to live in a country where people have chances. This is not to say that there aren't problems within government as it currently functions --because there are, and they are big ones.

One of these problems: policing as practiced by some (not all) members of the law enforcement community. There have been protests calling for accountability. This is important in a democracy --practices need to be reviewed periodically to determine whether they are fair and just for all. Where issues arise is that place where "we, the people" (thank you, drafters of the US Constitution) turns into us versus The "Intellectual Elite in a Distant Capital" or The Cops or The Blacks or any other group. Essentially, any time the situation turns into us versus them in a democracy, we've got problems.

Dallas Police Chief David Brown is a unique man with a unique approach. He said, in response to protests about policing, "We're hiring. Get off that protest line and put an application in. And we'll put you in your neighborhood, and we will help you resolve some of the problems you're protesting about." In effect, he was saying that if you have a problem with the way things are done, get involved. It shouldn't seem like a radical solution to get involved in a democracy. It should be common sense. 

Democracy only works when people get involved. It is difficult. It takes time. It takes sustained effort. We live in a world of reality, and reality is messy. Chief Brown has been actively trying to make this real, messy world a better place for over 30 years as a police officer. He has lost his own son, as well as several fellow officers, in the process. Yet he keeps doing it because what he is striving for is a noble cause. Governor Pence, thankfully, seems to have taken Chief Brown's advice; he has been engaged civically, first as a US Representative (in Washington D.C., no less) and later as Governor of Indiana, since 2000. There is a place for everybody in a government of, for and by the people. I think Chief David Brown would encourage you to get involved in whatever way makes sense for you. We're hiring.   

a funny thing happened on the way to the ferry: an unfinished essay

“Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.”

In truth, the words sounded far lovelier than I have written them, but they were meaningless to my American ears. I would have had trouble understanding them even if I had been able to comprehend French. All words are more difficult to understand over a train intercom.

As beautiful as the train intercom French sounded, the other passengers’ groans and grumbles told me the actual message was less than romantic. It probably explained why the train had stopped. It probably explained why we were just sitting there, only kilometers from the ferry terminal at Le Havre with less than an hour before the ferry –my ferry! –was due to leave for Ireland. It probably explained why I was in danger of being stranded with little pocket change in a place where I did not speak the language and had no one I could turn to for help.

The year was 1994. Back in the 20th Century, I was younger and full of the hubris that being younger brings. We had been given a short break from studies at University College Dublin, where I was ostensibly attending a semester’s worth of courses, although in truth I think I spent more time in the pub and at parties than in class. What does one do when in Europe with nothing to do and no sense of what anything costs because they use different currencies (plural in the pre-Euro era)? Why, travel, of course!

My friend Barbara had come over from the States to join me and my new friend, David, on a continental jaunt. We all flew from Dublin to Paris together (how grand!) to meet up with a fellow resident of Dublin student housing, Marie, who picked us up at the airport. We spent some days in Paris sightseeing before taking the TGV to Lyon, where a couple of French classmates of David’s met us. From there, Barbara and I continued onto Geneva, where she had family friends who gave us a place to stay. Venice. Munich. In those places, Barbara and I stayed in hostels and we traveled by train. It was all very Before Sunrise. In Germany, Barbara and I split up –her to fly home, and me to work my way back to Ireland via ferry. In order to work my way back to Ireland by ferry, I had to take a series of trains that led me toward Le Havre.

It was on that last train –just kilometers away from the ferry –that disaster struck. Many people have experienced worse disasters during their travels. I did not know this at the time. All I knew was that I was extremely confused and a little concerned. Concern turned to panic when another mysterious pronouncement came over the loudspeaker.  The words themselves were not frightening –they didn’t mean anything to me. No, the scary part was when the grumbling French-speaking passengers walked off the train. Wait! Don’t leave! What would I do if I missed that ferry? I had no money to pay for a place to stay. I had no money to pay for anything --only centimes! I reluctantly followed the crowd off of the train because what else could I do?  

We were herded toward a parking lot. I hyperventilated as we stopped there –and stayed stopped there for what felt like hours. No one moved from that spot. They just stood there and spoke French to one another. “Why did I study German and Spanish?” I thought to myself in English. 

. . .

This is where the essay stops. What do you think happened next? This is a true story, and I am still alive, but get creative. I'd love to hear your thoughts!