I really just began posting, and following others on Facebook, this past May. And I must say it has been an interesting, and enlightening, adventure, to say the least.
A student of mine, several years ago, had surprisingly, "put you on there, Miz J.," but I'd never had either the time, or inclination, to become involved in it.
In fact, for a long time, my profile, or page, had basically hung out in limbo. I had no pictures, no writings, no anything, on the site, other than my name.
I'd pretty much forgotten it even existed!
Then, out of the blue, one day, after much urging from family and friends, to "get with it," I decided to explore the terrain.
I'm still essentially a novice at the whole process, but I have had a lot of fun sharing pictures, and my life, with others.
I've posted about truly inconsequential happenings, as well as major occurrences - births, deaths, sicknesses, engagements, marriages, divorces, graduations, and promotions, pretty much anything and everything.
I've told both old family stories, and recently transpiring news, much to the dismay of my children.
I've posted holiday decorations and snapshots of pound cakes, that actually came out of the pan.
I've kept a written and visual diary of some extremely-needed house repairs and painting.
I've thoroughly enjoyed catching up with old friends and family members I haven't heard from in years, finding out about their goings-on.
However, I am discovering that my approach to this piece of social media is relatively unique.
As I intimated, a few folks have shared adorable pictures of babies and puppies, of shy teenagers in caps and gowns, of beautiful weddings, and even of their own culinary masterpieces and interior design.
Nevertheless, on an almost daily basis, I've likewise found some ludicrous, if not downright disturbing, posts on my timeline.
Unfortunately, it seems far too often, people feel compelled to talk about such things as crappy relationships, even to the point of slaughtering ex-amours online.
For example, we learn Joe or Jane Doe did someone wrong, and is a lying, cheating, thieving, sack of poo.
If not assassinating a prior lover, then they are trying desperately to get me to "copy and paste" something to prove I'm really their friend, because they're fed up with fake people!
I could also become an instant millionaire, or at least one by the time the clock strikes twelve, if I just cooperate and send something to twenty of my closest friends immediately. I can't think of twenty friends who wouldn't think I was cuckoo if I did that.
And those sanctimonious individuals who claim to know if I honestly believe in, and follow, Jesus by my attention to their words, make me seriously cringe.
I know I'm guilty of telling too much about my own life. I always have been way beyond an open book. My sister has cautioned me for decades to practice more reserve.
But I think what really matters most to me about all of it, is that I get to "talk." Writing for me has always been a type of conversing, or should I say, "conversating," as they do on Jerry Springer?
And I may be wrong here altogether. I often am, I'm sure, but, seriously, I have to wonder if sharing our lives, our traditions, and our cultures, with one another can only bring us closer? I mean, can we really not get along if we're sharing significant or precious moments?
Don't treasured recipes and sage advice and special pictures all serve to bridge the chasm of isolation and anger?
I don't really know for sure. For me, the jury is still out about the whole experience, but I do know we aren't ever going to return to a time when we weren't in touch via computerized methods.
Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, all of it, may change, but something equally cohesive will pull us together. People used to gather around fires and tell stories.
Those flames held off wild beasts and the cold, but the tales themselves made the participants equally warm inside.
Communication brings us closer. Books, films, plays, whatever route is taken, man has always yearned to reach out, and reach in, as well, to find what makes us human, and able to carry on.