To See and Be Seen

Recently, I took the plunge and signed up on Facebook.  At first, I felt as a scuba diver must feel when swimming among exotic fish.  All the faces of people I hadn't connected with in decades, or ones I had never ever seen, were just as colorful and plentiful...and now, I am one of them, one of 900 million people wanting to see and be seen.

Initially, all I could do was float over the sea of faces, in awe of how many old friends and family members are on Facebook.  Soon, I was commenting on photos and reading what others had to share.  Exchanging quips with my niece was fun; as soon as I made my presence known, she wrote, "There goes the neighborhood!"   Of course, I translated that to mean, "Oh, my beloved aunt, I'm so glad you finally decided to join Facebook!"  Her comment marked the beginning of  old home week, and immediately, I became part of a ready-made, reunited community.

Until I got into the swing of things, I felt like a voyeur; however, I finally figured out that people let me see what they want me to see -- in most cases, that includes a photo of them and their families, unique pictures they have taken, announcements of special events, and brief exchanges with friends, which you can 'like' or 'comment' on.  Those of us who are new friends may have to guess what they're talking about or who's who in the family/friend line-up...that is, if we care to take the time.  Facebook requires time some of us didn't think we had; but when you're among friends, it's amazing how fast the time goes.

It didn't take too long to learn how Facebook works.  With one click per person, I re-connected with high school and college chums; and with another click, I un-friended one of them.  Several days in a row, he and like-minded pals were getting high on politically motivated anger, never giving thought to the fact that their vitriolic comments might alienate a whole lot of 'friends'.  They can believe what they want and are free to share it with the world; but I don't choose to be greeted with hatred the minute I open Facebook.  Does this childhood acquaintance know I gave him the boot?  Maybe he does, but I'll venture to say, he couldn't care less and won't miss one face among a couple hundred. 

The thing that strikes me the most is the number of 'friends' (in quotes because, in this case, I consider it a loose use of the word) some people have.  How can one possibly count hundreds of people as friends?  Four, five, six hundred -- I don't think I even know that many people.  On the other hand, if I want to get word out about Soul Portrait, which is a primary reason I joined Facebook, I'd better get used to the fact that a great many of my future 'friends' will start out as complete strangers.  There are public and private options that come with Facebook accounts, but I'm still in the process of deciding what's best for me and who belongs in which category.

Some might say I'm making much ado about nothing, but this is still new to me.  I can engage in the process, remain a passive onlooker, or completely disengage from the process.  I also have to figure how much time I'm willing to contribute.  Knowing loved ones are only a click away -- sharing their activities, thoughts, and photos -- makes Facebook worthwhile.  We've made our soul connections through the years and Facebook is an added bonus, a reminder that we aren't all that far away.  I remind myself if we need to talk at length, we can call or e-mail. 

Facebook is for fast connections, not soul connections.  I would always choose soul connections over fast connections, but the latter are simpler.  Facebook makes it easy to touch base with someone you haven't seen for 40 years.  You make your presence known; she answers how good it is to hear from you, and asks where are you now; and you move on to the next person you haven't seen for 40 years, perhaps never saying another word to either one any time soon.  We know the other person is there, that our past is still in tact and our memories shared; but neither of us has the time or energy to try to fill in four decades of life-details. 

Superficial chit-chat is difficult for me because it's so....well, superficial.  I much prefer meaningful connections; but knowing that isn't possible, I attempted to find a middle ground with one guy from high school.  My message to him was briefly conversational, with one or two questions that would encourage him to respond.  I haven't heard from him since. I've received the 'friend' response from several people without one word exchanged.  Finally, I tested the waters by writing a couple notes, but to no avail.  When nothing is said, and only a face appears on your page, you wonder, 'why bother?'  Are we making connections or not?  Do these people truly want friends or are they just collecting faces as if they were stamps?  And does it really matter, as long as we have access to each other's page?   I hope I get used to this; but I can see why some people have let their pages go idle. 

One man I know and tried to 'friend' responded by e-mail and told me he was afraid he had let too many weeds grow on his page and wasn't using it much these days.  Was I another weed?  He did not 'friend' me (and contrary to those who have hundreds of friends and can't begin to keep track, I know when I'm being ignored).  This gentleman and I e-mail a couple times a year, so I knew we wouldn't lose touch.   I admit, I wanted to work up to 50 friends and he would have made 48; but the very fact that I'm even looking at numbers makes me feel like I've entered some kind of competition.  There are just some people who attract more people; and I say, ''More power to ya.'  Still, a name will pop into my head just as I'm falling asleep and I know I'm going to try to find that person on Facebook; when they aren't there, I'm disappointed. 

Facebook can be great fun or just another chore, depending on one's attitude and energy.  I want to let certain people know I'm right here and thinking about them often. Everyone on my friend list is important to me, whether they are there because they care about me, want to learn more about my book and blog, or feel the need to add yet another face to their first 400.  Their motives don't concern me, as long as they're getting something out of it.  What does matter to me is why I'm there.  At some point, I'll have to accept the Facebook notion of 'friend' and not worry that I'm not giving everyone quality attention....or any attention, for that matter.  If I can't get to that point, I'll silently slip away.

All this begs the question, what if I go missing from Facebook?  Will anyone care?  More importantly, will anyone notice?  I could be gone for weeks, curled up in the corner of my studio, stuffing my face with chocolate chip cookies and suffocating in swirling dust, yet none of my 'friends' would know.  But for now, I'm staying put.  There's something that tickles me about being a voyeur without breaking the law.  I promise those of you on Facebook, I'm quiet and never stay too long.  It's like a wise man once said,  'Short visits make long friends". 

                                             Lupine in The Columbia River Gorge
                                                                         

Between Friends

Years ago, a very smart author/friend of mine suggested I focus on marketing the legacy component of Soul Portrait, rather than the 'what if' aspect of aging and the possibility of being dependent on someone else for our care.   "Obviously it could still be used for caregiving, but by putting the focus on legacy, it makes the whole thing more palatable", she wrote.   

Like anyone who has written a book and dreamed of it catching on like wild fire, I thought about this for a long time.  I knew nothing about marketing, and certainly, she knew what she was talking about.  Was my friend right about the topics of aging and dependence not being palatable?  

To a certain degree, she was; but that's  because we're afraid of being physically or mentally incapacitated. Talking about those possibilities makes our skin crawl; in fact, just the thought of being helpless puts us in a state of denial.  Because we never see ourselves in that position, we decide not to think about it.  It doesn't matter that only a small percentage of us will ever land in a nursing home; we are still afraid of getting old and being dependent on someone else for our care. 

I have a friend who can't even say her age (63) without feeling a sense of horror; if I accidentally make her one year older than she is, she quickly and vehemently corrects me.  She's not alone; there are times I think about my aging and am amazed that I'm almost 65.  Who?  Me?  65?  Can't be!  And then, there are those who age with grace and accept their aging with an attitude that is enviable.  It seems to be no big deal for them.  When I'm around someone like the latter, I know I can do it, too.  And because I'm a planner by nature, one way I accept aging is to plan ahead.

I believe that once we talk about our fears, we can put them into perspective and start approaching life with joy -- not only for ourselves, but for the sake of our families.  Soul Portrait is a pleasant way to think about these things and start the dialogue with our kids or our parents.  Not only that, depending on where the conversation goes, it can lead to self acceptance and soul-level connections.  I don't know of a family that couldn't benefit from more acceptance, understanding, and forgiveness.

I always encourage family members to use Soul Portrait as a non-threatening introduction to 'the talk' with their aging parents.  What happens to their parents later on will affect their own lives in ways they never imagined, and it's so much better for everyone if aging parent and adult child plan ahead together.  How many of us who are now in our 60's have cared for our parents with no clue as to what they needed to thrive at the soul level?

After fighting my usual self-doubt, I had to honor my instincts and let go of the notion that my book would take off like gangbusters; marketing the truth was the only way I could proceed.  And now that it's out for all to see, my doubt has vanished.  I wrote Soul Portrait to help people deal with the fear of growing old and possibly being dependent upon someone else.  The way to do that is to make aging personal.  What follows is the e-mail response I sent to my friend.

I initially reacted to your use of the word, 'palatable', which would suggest that my current approach is distasteful.  If it is distasteful, it's because we all want to avoid talking about it.  We are frightened of aging and being dependent; however, to dilute my message would be to mask the truth.  The purpose of 'Soul Portrait' is to give people something to think about and to honor those who cannot speak for themselves.  

My target audience is family, institutional staff, medical personnel, and baby boomers.  We can initiate discussion with our parents; we can think about our own futures; we can care for our elders in a more personal way; and we can change the way we and others think about aging.  Our society is in need of a paradigm shift and my approach is just one small contribution to changing the current culture of elder care.

I feel compelled to talk to people about the unspoken, painful issues.  We have buried our heads in the sand for too long; and it's affecting the way we care for our elders, why elders are undervalued rather than cherished, and why they would rather die than go into a nursing home.  Our fears affect our families and those around us; we pass on the message that aging is bad.  Our society has taken a wrong turn by relegating our elders to second-class status, and thus, making them feel unworthy of our attention and respect.

Soul Portrait provides us with a way to leave a legacy to those we love, yes, but it is so much more.  It's about the future and life review and memories and personal everyday issues that impact how we feel at the soul level.  Families don't typically plan ahead for personalized health care.  Instead, we spend years on genealogies; we prepare our wills and Advance Health Care Directives for when we are dead or on our way out; we even pick out our urns, grave stones, and sites for burial.  We've saved up as much money as we can to assure our continued standard of living through retirement, and maybe we're paying huge amounts of money for long term care insurance.  There is a part of us that knows we could be dependent some day; but that's where our preparation hits a wall.  Soul Portrait is one more facet of retirement planning, because it takes us one more step towards making aging and health care personal.

As one 80-year old friend tells me, "Old age has a way of creeping up on you."  When it arrives, we don't always know what to think about it; and in most cases, by the time a crisis hit -- if it hits -- we lose our ability to make choices about our care. Soul Portrait is a comforting wake up call for all of us.


(c) SallyZMcBain