As a new year’s “resolution,” I’ve been promising myself less time on social media, for at least eight years now. A little over a week into January so far, I can say that I quit this resolution (again) faster than any diet I’ve ever been on.
Don’t get me wrong, social media and the internet have enhanced many aspects of my life. What started as a way to stay in touch with friends across the country became an educational platform to learn about the experiences, beliefs, and values of others. Even when debates get heated and devolve into ad hominem attacks, I always learn something, even if it’s that I don’t want to be like others who name-call and yell at people they don’t know.
It is safe to say that participants on social media didn’t reveal anything different to me about politics, or humanity, during or after the 2024 election. The cycle of anger, blame, and hindsight commentary is familiar to any of us who have been paying attention since the 2000 elections. Social media has made it easier to see that a loud minority of people do not believe in basic human rights. Initially, I had hopes that a global communication system, the early internet, would create a modern-day Agora. Instead, for all of its promise, it has devolved into a WWE arena. More on the proposed Secretary of Education later.
I expected this current level of anger and hatred around politics and legislation. Anger is as diverse as are the ways in which we express it. I’ve been known to write strongly worded letters on my best days, and, on my worst, I’ve thrown a dish (or several). Now when I turn to social media, I see a new form of expression that is a kind of “genteel” anger, or anger for rational people living in an irrational world.
This type of eloquent anger expression is well suited to newer social media platforms. I’m often awed by writers who capture the emotional content and context of situations in fewer than 1,000 words. What I’ve observed though is that these stories have taken the shape of major injustices for everyday slights. For example, two people walking side-by-side on a hiking trail may be oblivious to a person in their path, who then steps aside to let them pass. The person who stepped aside feels aggrieved and ascribes malicious intent to those who took up space. Or anger toward the person who doesn’t hold the door open for those behind them. I have also been known to loudly proclaim “you’re welcome!” to those who don’t thank me, or “excuse you,” to those who bump into me while they remain silent and go about their day.
I find myself reading several long posts every day about each of these instances that some writers helpfully label as “story time” or “threads” on the eponymous platform. Even though I know it’s a waste of time, the best way I can describe why I’m doing this is because it feels like a kind of comradery in absentia with rational humans. At the same time, I also wonder what it is that I hope to accomplish by reveling in these stories of petty retributions and witty comebacks. The problem is shifting my focus to education and activism rather than craving the dopamine rush of someone else’s tiny “win.”
Having a failed resolution out of the way this early in the year now frees up my mind to consider how I want to move forward the rest of the year. I put my phone down and bring myself over to my writing desk, abandoned during the holiday season. I scan the pens, notebooks, and mementos while blowing off a fine layer of dust. But instead of writing, my eyes fall on two numbered and inscribed silver tokens with a small statue of Ganesh between them. I don’t remember what the tokens were a part of, only that one reads, “4. Give more” and the other, “5. Expect less.” Ganesh is a reminder to keep writing through all obstacles, but the meaning of the tokens has been lost through time.
These ideas now are combined in my mind: “give more, expect less.” So many of us feel that we don’t have more time or energy to give. We also aren’t sure how we can expect less when we feel that we have the bare minimum of attention or the regard of others. Perhaps in the spirit of not caring what others think, the same can be applied to these two phrases. I can give as much of myself as I can even when others don’t reciprocate while also not expecting others to perform to my ideals of how we should all operate in the world. I’m not expecting less from myself or others but trying to give more grace all around.
I also want to embrace the other meaning of Ganesh: one of new beginnings and possibilities. Isn’t that what is always exciting about a new year? A fresh start? This year, I don’t want to waste any more time being mad that someone accidentally slammed the door in my face or reading stories from others about doors slammed. I want to be able to open a door without expecting recognition or thanks and to see each person who walks through my open door as a fellow, struggling human and not a despicable creature. I’m glad I have some 355 days or so left in this year to work through how to do this. One thing I know for sure; I’ll learn a lot more from my friends and within communities I’m already a part of rather than from strangers online.
