We may or may not be embracing our personal energy

Image by Marcus76 via Flickr

Re-post: This was posted nearly a year ago to the day, December 30, 2008, at my former blog, How to be a Woman. (I updated the section of the post referring to said blog with the correct tense.) Happy New Year to all you fabulous people! This year is going to be so puddingliciously awesome that I can quite literally taste it. :D

*********************


I'm new to social networking and social media. New to blogging. All of it. From an outsider's perspective, it's one giant fascinating ball of wax. Like sitting at the foot of a table watching a cross-section of society play Monopoly and fight over who gets the thimble while others scramble for a seat. Here's what I've observed over the last couple of days, and my pointless ruminations and blather about it all, contained in the form of a series of run-on sentences and inappropriately placed commas, sure to set Holly Jahangiri's frontal vein a'bulging.

Sometimes people create lists that contain mentions of other people. Those mentioned on the lists are happy, but those not mentioned are hurt and often feel betrayed.

Why then do people devise such lists? And why do people continue to care about them? Why are people who create such lists often catapulted to the top of the social networking strata if they aren't already there?

For the same reason Rob and Amber were so successful on Survivor. They were leaders, and others thought them untouchable. Also, because in the world of social networking people rely on other people to spread the word about them, and to make introductions. To get a nod of approval from a big cheese in the world of social networking can send flocks of followers one's way. Why is this a good thing? Exposure. To promote your brand. And for some, to quote THE Neil...

"...I got an emptiness deep inside
And I've tried
But it won't let me go
And I'm not a man who likes to swear
But I never cared
For the sound of being alone'"

There is a lot of resistance out there to positivity. There are a lot of life coaches on Twitter and Facebook, a lot of people telling other people how to use Twitter and Facebook, how to present themselves, how to express themselves. How to "be".

There are people making a living this way. I don't mind them myself. For the most part, they are a harmless bunch. And is it really such a bad thing to be around people who encourage us to stop wallowing in our own muck and self-pity, embrace our energy and our personal power and just GO FOR IT?

I suppose it is if you're not the go for it type. Some would do well to drop their wall of jokes and listen to what they have to say. Being happy is okay. Happiness and positivity are not tantamount to idiocracy. But all people weren't meant to be energetic and perky. Just because one is low key and expresses him or herself with a quiet and sardonic wit or a dark seriousness does not mean they are not embracing their energy. Some dance to the beat of a different drummer. Any attempt to alter them is, in my opinion, a crime against nature.

There are posers among us. Or poseurs. Or possers. Depends on the observer calling out the poser. What is a poser you ask? I have no idea. If you know, please tell me. I am so out of the loop. But posers or poseurs or poosers are apparently supposed to be blackballed on one's Twitter, or Friend Feed, and we're not supposed to Digg posers. Don't even think about Friending them on Facebook. Why? Apparently posing is anti-social. Unless it's in a cute hat and on your avatar.

We may or we may not be dillweeds. If we tell other people what to do, it's likely that we are dillweeds. I'm starting to suspect that being a dillweed is not a good thing. I'm even starting to suspect that I might be a dillweed.  :o

Some people didn't get the tongue-in-cheekocity of the title of my old blog "How to be a Woman", and thought that I was positioning myself as an authority. A natural mistake to the casual observer. But to anyone who actually read my blog, this was laughable and couldn't have been farther from the truth. The whole point of this blog was that I haven't a clue how to be a real woman. I am an apprentice. I'm on the path, not the path. I admitted that I am a big jerk who is flailing around, trying to learn how to be happy, how to be strong and steady and do right by the family I love. I'm going to get there someday.

However,  I am perfectly alright with being a dillweed. Takes the pressure off. And I like pickles better than cukes anyway.

Twitter is addictive. There are so many fascinating people out there. I really, truly mean that. They're out there, and they are actually willing to communicate with you. There are talented artists, writers, singers, comedians, business moguls, you name it, there on your Twitter screen. Right there at your fingertips.

Where else are you going to be presented with the opportunity to communicate with such incredible people first-hand? At this point, I would argue nowhere. Not like this. Not this instantly gratifying. And if you're nice to them, they have to be nice to you. Heh. Because if the rest of their followers should witness them being a jerk to you without provocation, then they're likely to hear about it. You've got them over a barrel. Ain't it cool?

Note to self: Do not become obsessed with losing followers. Those who matter don't mind, and those who mind don't matter. (Thanks, Annette.) Just be yourself, have a blast, and let the chips fall where they may. Note to self: Spend less time on Twitter and more time with your kids and your projects. Note to self: A little Tweeting is perfectly okay.

Signing off,
Dillweed in California