Don't Call Me Good...
Nerves are frayed, that’s for sure. Between the virus, the murder of George Floyd, and now curfew, people are at wits end. It’s been showing up on Facebook in a big way. All of our feeds are different, but I have to be honest in saying it has been getting to me. So many arguments; people telling others what to do and think. But I’m jumping ahead as I sometimes do. I’ll begin again.
On my personal Facebook page I have more than a thousand friends. Big deal. Many have more. In truth I probably only know about a tenth of them in real life. On my business page, Urban Simplicity—which began as an extension of my blog by the same name and a way to promote my photos and writing—there are more than 3500 followers, and more added each week. Out of the 3500+ followers I know such a small percentage in real life.
My personal page is set to private, meaning that things cannot be shared and those that are not friends cannot see it. I changed the settings to private a couple years ago after an angry person hijacked the page. Urban Simplicity, on the other hand, is wide open. Anyone can see it and anyone can share and anyone can comment. And this has been a problem as of late.
I am fully conscious of the fact that when I hit the “publish” button there is the possibility of it reaching a large audience. Large to me, at least. Facebook tells me the stats of each post; how many liked it, how many shared it, and how many have viewed it. Some but not all are shared, and sometimes a post is shared from someone who shared it and shared by someone who shared it. You get the point. Some posts have reached more than two hundred thousand people. To someone who does this professionally this may not seem like a lot. But to me, typing away in my humble little Allentown (Buffalo, NY) living-room, it is a lot.
For every view there is a different personality with a different perspective. Sometimes people see or read something the way they personally see things, but not the way the post was intended. Sometimes they misinterpret things, or simply have their own ideas. And many feel the need to comment.
Recently my very character—who I am as a person—was called into question. Assumptions were made. So were comments. These of course come from people I’ve never met. People who don’t know me. Do not know me as a person. There’s no need to repeat what was said, you may have seen them, they’ve been since deleted. And I know I shouldn’t care or let it bother me but it does. It—assuming, accusing, and inaccurate comments—make me question humanity as a whole. And this makes me sad. It also makes me question what I am doing, and should I continue.
Yesterday after I sat in prayer and meditation I sent a question out to the Universe asking for guidance. The response came from deep within. It was one simple word...Write! (and yes, when viewed in mind’s eye it had an exclamation point). So here I am. As you know I sometimes profile people so thought it only fair to offer myself in return. A photo, which was captured this time last year in a broken mirror—which somehow seems appropriate—but even more importantly what is on my heart at the moment.
Often after I profile a person people make comments calling me good, kind-hearted, etc. I have never felt comfortable with this. Accolades have never been my intention. So please, don’t tell me I’m good, but inversely, do not make false negative comments about me either. Thank you to my real and virtual friends, and also to those who follow my page(s).
Peace, Salaam, Shalom.
“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” ~ Proverbs 4:23