and found it in my own soul.
I implored heaven and hell —
and the field daisies answered me.
~Muriel Strode (1875–1964),
My Little Book of Prayer, 1904
It does not and should not diminish anyone else's experience of what they choose to do with their time and energy. For instance, people love sharing food photos, which is fine. I do it myself when it's in the context of joy, fun, friendship, celebration. For me though, all the random sharing of the vast quantities of food we consume in the west, only reminds me of the people who have food only because they foraged it from the garbage dumps outside Nairobi, or begged for it on the streets of Calcutta or Sao Paulo.
**Further disclamer: But that's just me. And I choose to not participate in it.
Sharing a celebration that involves food and togetherness is one thing, I repeat--I do it myself, but the constant drone of "here's the massive plate of food I'm eating and paying more for than what a person in Zimbabwe makes in a year," I'm just not interested in. For me it only accentuates the chasm between the haves and have-nots in the world, between the over-fed and the barely-fed. And I'll add after a few reactions to this blog on Twitter last night, this isn't judgement on someone else's choices, it's only about how it feels to me, how I'm wired. And guess what several Twitter person(s)? I get to feel that way and it has nothing to do with you, which proves my point about social media in the first place.
I do realise I live in two extraordinarily beautiful places, Oxford and Wales, but even when I lived in Yakima, Washington where trust me, no one moves for the beauty, I managed to find beauty every, single day. The deep blue of the sky, the clouds over the Cascade foothills, or the way the air smelled after a thunderstorm. Moments of grace, available to all.
breaks down all our dead
branches; yet it sends our
living roots deeper into the
living heart of the living earth.
~ Kahlil Gibran