The snowflakes of time

 The first proper snowstorm of the winter, a little over a month into the season. Just last week I was meeting with a retired friend on his porch, gifting him some baked goods and basking in the sun and conversation (masked, and from about ten feet apart). Breaking a sweat from the sunbeams. Now I sit hunkered in our little cabin, snow blotting out the view from the upstairs balcony, the deck so full that you couldn't tell I had shoveled a good foot off of it this morning. All day the snow has descended - full and fluffy, small and sideways, ever-gathering, blanketing the earth in its softness. Not really a storm at all - rather peaceful - but thick and constant enough to keep the visibility below half a mile throughout the day. 23.5" inches at last measure, and that was already about three hours ago.

I didn't want this snow to come right now. I was feeling restless, wanting to get out, desirous of some alone-time in the woods, on a rock, beside a stream, with a journal and an ink pen. The sort of daydream whose reality is only conducive to pleasant weather. Instead, I got a proper snow event, tying me and my partner to these four walls and this roof and that wood stove and each other for the duration. So much for solitude.

Since my previous blog entry, I have made some significant changes to my social media 'diet,' shall we say. First and foremost, I deleted my Instagram account. And I haven't missed it a bit yet. But knowing that this was not enough, I went through the trouble of cleaning up my Facebook as well, to make that experience (so long as I stick around on the platform) a bit less noisy. I went from being in 18 groups down to 6, from 150 likes and follows of brands or personalities to fewer than 40, from 197 friends to under 150. I also removed a bunch of my information from there, because it's not Fb's business, and it's certainly known data for those who are actually my friends. The result is that I've actually seen some posts from folks that I want to read their posts, some of them for the first time in who knows how long! Finally, I went into Etsy and officially closed my store - I only ever made one sale on it anyway. Furthermore, I un-favorited lots of items and shops on there as well, because I do not like all the same things I liked a decade ago. Shocker.

These were just some of the first steps that I've taken in my journey to take back control of my online presence, and I've felt pretty good about them so far. If only it were that easy to make tweaks and changes to life in the real world!

Long time, no blog

 Let's face it: it's difficult to blog when you don't have internet at home. It's also difficult to read and respond to emails. Or even to send them. To remember to send the photo of that thing you told your mom about on the phone - to remember to take the photo at all - when the connection to the internet just isn't there.

It's been a year. It's been more than a year. I haven't regularly updated this blog in ages, certainly not since we moved to a place without internet access. Certainly not since I've copped out and shared my life in single-photo snippets on Instagram that I can automatically forward to my Facebook without ever having to look at anything posted by anyone else. Efficiency. Is that really what this is about?

Just a couple days ago I started reading "Do Nothing" by Celeste Headlee and I'm pounding through it because it's resonating so much. It both stings and salves. The reason I don't take the time to write blog posts anymore is because I have made my sharing of life an internet chore to be checked off a list, the more efficiently, the better. There are ways I could compose blogposts and share them without taking so much of my limited connectivity time, but I don't do them - because they would take time on their own. Writing a blog post takes so much more time and energy and craft than making quick edits to a photo and slapping it on IG/Fb with a clever sentence or two - or even just a single word or emoji.

I have lost the beauty of my words, longhand, scrawling across a page. Written (typed) for myself just as much as anyone else, with the knowledge that my blog views are generally in the single digits and almost never receive comments or feedback. It has been months since I've reflected on the public-presenting story of my life in-depth and crafted a post on it. This reflection was just as much for myself as it was for my friends and relatives who wanted a window into my long-distance life. And lest we not forget: the earliest posts on this blog were just as much nature writing as they were autobiographical vignettes. 

As I continue to read this book, I continue to reflect on my current life choices, especially with regards to social media, and I believe that in the coming days and weeks we can expect to see some changes in what I post, how I share what I share and where. And maybe, just maybe, I'll start writing proper blog posts again.

Until next time!