distinctive visuals by Jason Ramasami

Where is the anchor?


I have been doing some thinking during the past few months about managing and cultivating my relationships via social networking (specifically Fakebook, Twitter and so on).

Until fairly recently I was running no less than 5 Twitter accounts. Each had it’s own agenda and it seemed a good thing. For a while.

One issue for me was that I wanted to be sensitive to the different audiences I find myself interacting with. They don’t all care about what I have to say about my faith, my creative ventures, my thoughts about using Bluetooth interactive technology in the classroom or even my dislike for pralines. Some people like to hear some of these things but very few want them all. It can get tricky when your life isn’t linear or genre-containable.

Should one hide some things and not others? On what basis? Is it better to be transparent and let people decide whether to filter you out? Is this something I am primarily responsible for? Am I some kind of coward who wants to be ‘in’ with as many people as is possible? Is this some sick, spineless marketing-based fear of rejection?

Anyway. Whatever is the truth on this, I certainly started to get fed up with being a little two-faced. Or five-faced if you count the twitter feeds.

So I deleted all my accounts, deactivated Fakebook and started again. Now I am @jasonramasami on Twitter and that is it. I may not say everything online, but at least when I say something it is me who is saying it.

This also got me thinking about the relationship between the online and ‘real’ communities.
How do they relate? Which is the most meaningful? Which takes priority and when should one be cultivated at the expense of the other?

The image in the sidebar represents an early stab at thinking this one through. I have made a general distinction between what I would refer to as ‘fleshbloodspirit’ links and online-cyber ones. I have also tried to define a few general categories of relationship from the nearest (friends/family) through to people who might have some very basic passing connection (like living in the same town).

At the bottom of the diagram there is an interaction ‘depth’ scale. The closest being my wife through to anonymous surfers looking at my drawing of a Heinkel Cabin Cruiser. Notice where Twitter fits in.

Having put this all down, here are some of my personal observations (which I welcome feedback on):
Online communication cannot carry the full weight of a challenging, sharpening, loving relationship.
  • 140 characters

  • the ‘like’ button

  • the notion of unobtrusive facebook ‘friendship’

  • choosing how you do or don’t represent yourself

Online forms of communication have immense value but cannot provide the same depth or edginess that a fleshbloodspirit relationship can. Fair-weather friendships are flattering, but when life gets tough you need greater depth and empathy to see you through. The online world can be an extension of this, but not it’s foundation.

For this reason I think that one has to build/extend carefully online.

In a question: to what/whom am I anchored?

Life is not smooth, it has storms. This is a fact. Finding stability, peace, security, love - these are all vital for our wellbeing as humans. Can those online Twitter followers really provide support when you get cancer?

It is true that there are people who have thousands of well-wishers and can feel warmth when they get hundreds of support messages, but we aren’t all blessed with that (and would it make any genuine difference anyway?).

Instead, give me someone who knows me, cares about me unconditionally, can hold my hand and look me in the eye with compassion and you can bin those @replies for something far more significant.

Not that this is all about a one-way ‘who can I get to nurse me when my nappy needs changing’ experience: I want to be that person to others as much I long to have it for myself.

Twitter or Fakebook cannot hold that kind weight. It might reflect it, but it cannot carry it. Fleshbloodspirit can.

If this is true - that we need to express our anchorage using the appropriate means - then this leads a number of conclusions:
  • use the thin forms appropriately - don’t mistake Twitter for friendship - use it as an extension of friendship maybe, but don’t fool yourself into thinking it is anything more than it is. At best it is sharing light info.
  • exert appropriate energy - a best friend (like a wife) deserves more enthusiasm than a million Twitter followers. Give energy to the places where you are best anchored - intimate fleshbloodspirit links have a foundational role in our lives¹.
  • be True - whatever we are as people will always eventually come out in some form. Whatever we are expressing, let that be authentic and appropriate. If people don’t like what they are getting, then that is up to them. At least they know who they are dealing with².

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¹clearly this is a challenging thing to say because not everyone has those kind of friendships. My point here is that even if you don’t have those kinds of friendships yet, it is ultimately futile expecting a primarily online relationship to ever be that. There are tons of people around who mistake a crowd of flattering followers for real friendship. That is an accident waiting to happen. And no, that isn’t sour grapes at having very few followers. Well, maybe a little.
²I wrote a lengthy footnote but got tired.