The Sparkling Minutiae

One may be forgiven these days if one were to fall into a vast ocean of depression. The constant stream of lies, public shaming and vulgarity that smears across Facebook. The lapse of journalistic ethics (not even an attempt to discern the truth!). The mud-slinging of politicians and media. The constant spread of contrived disgust. All that sound and all that fury.

Taking a break from it all has been a wonderful and salutary respite for my own soul. I've been relegating Facebook to the role of "electronic rolodex" which allows me to spend just enough time on it to wish happy birthday greetings to cousins and friends who are spread around the globe before quietly retiring from the scene. One wonderful advent of the internet writ large and of Facebook specifically is that one can communicate so easily with such a vast number of people. One large problem is that anyone with decent broadband and a small amount of time on their hands can spread misinformation and ridiculous filth with the click of a button. And sadly, in today's shock and awe world, the truth is usually that which is loudest rather than that which is right. It is the online equivalent of "might is right". Ragnar Redbeard, were he alive, would love Facebook. One suspects he'd have a lot of friends...

The increased time I have due to my voluntary exile from Facebook allows me to write, think and yes...tease out the the truth from all the hysterics as best as I am able. I encourage everyone to do it! An extra 45 minutes of time spent laughing with my daughters or rubbing my tired wife's feet (or having my own tired feet pressed upon) is an incalculable blessing; body, mind and soul. I have some time to seek out the small things in life that impart value rather than all the great and awful tragedies in the world, misrepresented as it is, that seek to drag one into a permanent state of red alerts and victimization. As one separates oneself from the Kabuki theatre of Facebook the importance of all the vital people and small events in one's life that truly matter crystallize and the joy of peace, home and hearth envelop you. It has been wonderful.

Next week, my family and I are headed for our semi-annual trip to the family Farm in Canada. I expect sub-zero temperatures, deep snow, maybe some wolves, family, firewood, bridge, reading, writing, cross-country skiing and not a little single-malt. The Farm is a place where all the sparkling minutiae of life can be focused upon and, as a prism splits light and shows the beauty of the electromagnetic spectrum, used to show the beauty of our lives and as a restorative to the soul. It is a place where I can disconnect to connect. May we all have our Farms. Our quiet places where the soul can breathe a little and where the silence of the world can outpace the ceaseless buzzing of modernity. Where an entire novel can be read in a few days. And where, once the kids are in bed and the bridge game is effectively lost because your parents schooled you again, one can sit and write in peace. With clarity. And with just a little single-malt...I hope anyone reading my missives has a place like that and a slightly boring online presence. You are probably much richer for it.