The Lost Art of Personal Communication

Observation #3 - fasting from Facebook may not be hard, but I'm surprised and saddened to find it makes for a lonelier existence. 

On January 31st, I posted that I would be signing off Facebook with the exception of the occasional blog post, for the next 29 days.  I wished a happy birthday to all those celebrating in February since I wouldn't be able to do that on the actual day - I confess I have no idea when most of my friend's birthdays are without the aid of Facebook - and I also mentioned my fast from sweets and my determination to check email much less frequently.

Perhaps there was a misunderstanding.  I'm wondering if friends thought I was removing myself from all contact, because calls, emails, and even texts have been very few and far between.  Maybe some didn't see my post and continue to write to me on the site thinking I'm ignoring them.  Or maybe, just maybe, when I was constantly on Facebook, I didn't realize that those other types of communication had already dwindled off.

Anyone remember the good 'ol days of writing letters?  Or at the very least, sending a paper card through the US mail other than during the holidays?  How about using your phone to talk on instead of as a gaming device, alarm clock, web browser or whatever apps are capable of doing these days.  Even emails have given way to texting, Facebook messaging and Tweets.  Why is that?  Our interactions have become shorter and shorter.  Facebook statuses can't exceed 420 characters, a standard text message can't exceed 160 characters, and Tweets are 140 characters or less.  

I recently found a card my mother sent me.  She died from breast cancer that spread to her lungs and eventually her brain, more than 25 years ago.  To see her handwriting, and read the words of encouragement and pride that were in that card brought tears to my eyes.  There was a connection there warmer and more personal than any email she might have sent had it been around 25 years ago.  It was a piece of her. 

Last week, a sweet, thoughtful friend sent me a kids' valentine card in the mail.  It brought a smile to my face after a tough day.  It only took her a minute I'm sure to sign it, put a stamp on it and stick it in the mail...but those few seconds made my day. 

A co-worker has been working from home for some time after suffering from some health issues that make it difficult to come into the office.  Every week or so, I give her a call.  We chat about her health, what's going on in the office, what's not going on in our 'love lives' or the weather.  We're not solving global warming or world hunger, just making a human connection - real voices that communicate concern, share laughter, offer encouragement.  Before we hang up, she always says 'I love you my friend, you're the only one who calls anymore.'  Guess she's out of sight, out of mind for most.  It breaks my heart.

Last night, I went to church for a brief meeting.  One of the women there was a friend I haven't talked to in some time.  We chatted in the parking lot so long, I suggested we go to grab something at a local diner.  We talked until midnight.  She's been going through a lot of tough times - things that you don't post on social media, but things that need to be shared to have the prayer support of friends.  Sometimes, you just have to sit down face to face.

As I've been experiencing the loneliness of my Facebook fast I realize several things.  First, I unplugged, but I'm waiting for people to reach out to me.  I need to do some reaching out of my own.  Second, now that I'm aware how much of my socialization is coming from Facebook, I see how impersonal many of my interactions have become.  Third, there's no reason that the absence of a web site from my online vocabulary should cause me to be lonely.  I'm going to dig out my writing paper, encouragement cards, and a few pens.  At least once a week, I can invest 44 cents in a friendship.  Better yet, I can certainly carve out an hour here and there in my busy schedule to sit down with a dollar cup of coffee and have a conversation...live and in person. 

I'm excited at the prospect of resurrecting the lost art of personal communication, and I hope it's something that I will be able to make part of my regular routine.  I'm sure if I PLAY Words With Friends a little less so that I can HAVE words with friends a little more, my life will be the richer for it.