Independence Daze

Every man dies. Not every man lives.

About a week has passed since I have shut down my Facebook page, heralding a quiet breath of air in a busy world. And being too busy to blog must mean I am too busy with my real life, henceforth Operation Shutdown Facebook is a wild success!

I feel kind of selfish in keeping everything to myself, instead of sharing it all with my distant friends and family members via Facebook. Then I see the difference in my meals when I take the time to prepare them. See the difference in my immediate relationships when I enjoy their company. See the difference in my energy when I don’t scatter it. See the difference in my life when I slow it down. And I know I am much better without.

My daughter looks so old, I think a small part of me dies when I think about it. Facebook has a way of distracting me from that little fact of life. Children are the best judge of character. I know because each time I checked my phone/laptop for notifications, I saw a shimmer of resentment in my daughter’s eyes. Finally trusting her instincts, I’ve closed the Facebook. (pun intended)

Facebook is like a glass box of everyone’s lives in cracked reflections. I felt like an outsider, looking in. As much as I tried to accurately portray myself, the more shattered my chances were of relating with anyone. Facebook has a way of making the world feel too small or too big in the wrong way. Too big, because there are so many things passed along that just don’t matter. And too small, because the things that matter are hardly discussed.

If you like this blog, I don’t want you to just “like” it. I don’t want you to read because a superficial part of you wants to love without understanding, but actually wants to understand who you love. This is not Facebook. I trust you’re reading because you are genuinely interested in what I have to say. I don’t know what to write here, recently. I don’t really feel like I live in the same world as other people. I have a hard time relating with anyone outside of my daily life, because my daily life is that different.

Everyday is full of doubt, fear, grief and survival. Happiness, lots of happiness. Lots of simple joys. But doubt too. I don’t have cancer. I’m not being bombed. Everyday I wonder why and how I’m alive, and how fragile my existence is.  My life could end any minute, but by the grace of God I’m still here. I worry constantly what I’m wasting… do you?

Here is a list of wonderful things to do other than Facebook, or blogging.

1. Make a palette with your beau on the floor and watch Braveheart.

2. Get a kitten.

3. Bake bread.

4. Pick apples.

5. Cut someone’s hair.

Satisfaction guaranteed.

See my Twitter @prairiemuffins for more photo demonstrations. 😉

Happiness. Slow, simple joys of living. Not all joy, of course. Lots of doubt too.


6 thoughts on “Every man dies. Not every man lives.

  1. I love this. About a year or more ago, I deleted my facebook profile because I felt like it was not only a time sink but I felt like it was cluttered, overly informative, wasteful and not productive at all. I love blogging and living but facebook just isn’t thoughtful enough for me.

    Instead, I read blogs I love (like yours!), am baking granola right now, laughing with my son and getting lots of kisses.

  2. Do what you think it’s best for you and your loved ones, my dear. I wish you all the best and happiness. I very much enjoy what you have to say here ❤

  3. I am genuinely interested, and I’m glad that you are here, writing your blog, sharing your insights, questions, doubts and joys. We all go through things in life, but the good news is we are not alone. You are not alone. 🙂

  4. Thanks for writing this Nellie! I have subscribed to your blog, partially because your recipes look good and partially because I appreciate your spirit and conviction. I like all the do-it-yourself ideas as well. I have extremely limited working and storage space (tiny apartment) but I hope to tackle as many of these kinds of homemade projects as I can regardless. Keep up the good work.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s