Forsaking Facebook for benefit of books

http://olivyaz.blogspot.com/2011/03/lent-is-here.html

I have decided to un-follow Facebook
I have decided to un-follow Facebook
I have decided to un-follow Facebook
No turning back, no turning back.
(Until Easter.)

Yes, I am resolved to forsake Facebook this Lenten season, for the benefit of books...and the bevy of other spiritual supplements I have neglected because my friends are so darn fascinating! I want to read, write and run, all of which, in my world, are forms of prayer--that turning and returning to God that we Christians are called...invited...to heed especially at this time of year.

I plan to check in twice a week, Wednesdays and Saturdays at 12 noon, for a maximum of 15 minutes. A stronger saint might not need these planned "cheats," but I admit my weakness. A further-along Christian might also refrain from publicly sharing her private intentions to obey the call to prayer and fasting. But there again, I need the accountability this declaration affords. (Plus, I am vain enough to imagine that maybe my absence will be felt...at least enough that people might wonder what's become of me.)

So from tomorrow 'til April, I'll have my nose in a book and my nose to the grindstone. This is a busy season, as well as a contemplative one. Juxtapositions abound.

Listening to the grown-ups

I could hear the droning discussion coming from the other room. I was fiddling around on Facebook, as usual, and Will was nestled, with newspaper, into his favorite nook of the couch. On nights when I stay awake past the kids’ bedtime, this is our typical wind-down routine.

The talking heads on the tube sounded dreadfully boring from where I sat, so it didn’t surprise me that Will was able to divide his attention between the TV and the Wall Street Journal. With resolve, I clicked my way out of the mesmerizing maze of the Web and turned off the computer. I waddled into the living room and approached the television. “You can turn it,” Will offered. “Or turn it off, if you want.”

I was about to stifle the conversation, eager for the “Golden Silence” my mother always raved about when she was my age, but then, to my surprise, I got sucked in. Or, phrased more eloquently, I became engaged in the scintillating dialogue.

It was the Bill Moyers Journal--the very last episode, apparently. Mr. Moyers’ guest was author Barry Lopez. Until last night, I had never heard of either of them. Within 90 seconds of listening, I was thoroughly engrossed in their exchange of ideas, and so I point you in their direction: http://www.pbs.org/moyers/journal/04302010/profile.html.

Watching the Moyers-Lopez tête-à-tête felt a bit like college again, in the best sense; an intriguing, intellectual breath of fresh air. I should stay up late more often, sans Facebook. (By the way, here’s my brother-in-law’s solution to FB addiction. I’m not that smart yet.)

Image: "Silence is Golden," by Carl Brenders

Zac-Mania, Sausage Sandwiches and Facebook

Saturday Snippets

I arose early today, went over to work for about an hour (wrapping up some time-sensitive stuff I didn’t get to on a particularly busy Friday), and then stopped at two places on my way home:

The local grocery store (as in, the only local one left), where the owner himself cashed me out with my coffee beans and newspapers, remarked amiably about the balmy weather we’re finally experiencing, and gave first-name greetings to pass along to my husband. (Oh, Small Town America—do not leave us! Our souls need the intimate cordially of your communities!)

My second stop was McDonald’s—I know, so corporate—where I bought 4 Sausage McMuffins off the Dollar Menu. With Will gone earlier this week, I treated the kids to breakfast sandwiches at the fast-food empire outpost which Vi used to call “Old MacDonald’s”; Ben and Pearl’s version is “Uncle Donald’s” (they have a relative by that name). On Tuesday, I had ordered the sausage sandwiches for the youngsters and an Egg McMuffin for myself. In the process, I discovered that the sausage variety was 1/3 the price of my egg favorite. So today, I shrewdly ordered the cheap kind, then resolved to fry up my own egg—breakfast sandwich bliss on a budget! Arriving home, I waltzed into the kitchen and chirped about my bargain purchases. “These McDonald’s sausage sandwiches are only a dollar,” I enthused to Will, who replied: “Yeah, but then you have to eat ’em.” (Health-minded spoil-sport!)

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This is my final Facebook fast day (a deal I made with Vi during TV Turnoff Week). It’s been difficult to stay away from the steady stream of friendly greetings, witty 1-liners, and other interesting tidbits posted by friends and acquaintances in that virtual wonderland. I’ve especially missed playing online Scrabble. When life presents problems and other unpleasantness, Facebook feels like an oxygen mask of rejuvenation; it’s an oasis. Or, sociologists are saying, more like a mirage. It looks like real refreshment, but it’s deceitfully illusory. No one has bad breath on Facebook, this recent CNN Health article points out. I hope the 7 days away have snapped me out of my borderline addiction to the site. My next challenge will be total screen-media abstention for a full week—craziness! Baby steps, baby steps…..

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Last bit: My BFF and I went to the movies together last night—we saw 17 Again. Maybe it was the novelty of a night out sans kids. Maybe it was the fun of being with Jean, who lives across the Atlantic, who I don’t get to see as often as I’d like. Maybe it was momentary Zac-mania (gosh, what a beautiful boy). I know it wasn’t a truly good flick (I’ve heard valid complaints that it’s a poor amalgamation of It’s a Wonderful Life, Back to the Future, and Big), but I enjoyed it immensely—it made me feel…well, not 17 again, but close. (And how about that passionate pro-abstinence speech in the middle of the movie? Preach it, Z!)