This Will Be My Last Facebook Post

What seemed to have started out as a great idea Mr. Zuckerberg, I'll give you that, has ten years later just become another example of how human beings can become less human and more machine. I am certain there is no machine in the world today, not even Siri, that is able to experience what it feels like to be loved, which is a bit ironic isn't it? If machines cannot feel love, why is it that we give up our humanness, our essential ability to communicate soul to soul if you will, to become more "machine like" in search of acceptance and love? Too extreme, you're thinking. Here's something else that may be going to extremes, I'm deleting my Facebook.

Bold move. That's what people say when you tell them you're deleting your Facebook account. 50 years ago it would have been considered a bold move to paint a sign in your front lawn that reads any of the following, "I'm getting a divorce, call me if you care and I'll tell you why.", "My kids drive me crazy, I have a migraine. Help.", "Haters keep hating and I'll do me.", "I can't sleep, someone want to watch a movie?" "Lyndon B. Johnson is a dumbass.", "My neighbor is having an affair, what a jerk.", "I need ideas for supper tonight.", "My dog just pooped behind the couch.". Even today, if we drove by someone's house and saw any of the above sentences written on a huge sign in someone's front lawn would we not be a bit thrown off? Now, let's log onto Facebook and see those sentences in a status. Oh that? That's normal.

Facebook gives us the okay to express our innermost feelings and desires without blinking an eye and yet if we suddenly bumped into over half the people who "liked" or even read our status amid the checkout isle in Walmart, would we be so willing to speak the same things to them aloud, in person? I mean come on. How many times do you run into someone and say, "I saw on Facebook that you [Fill in the blank]". We can tell a person what he or she ate for dinner last night, comment on the wedding they attended last weekend, compliment on how great it was that they volunteered at the YMCA, ask them if their puppy has chewed up more of their underwear, and tell them that yes, you too, "love fresh tomatoes but hate when they're cooked, it must be a texture thing", all without this person actually telling us any of those things. Facebook, I just realized in this exact moment, is pretty much like being naked all the time. And my, do we flaunt our privates for the world to see!

We are like Adam and Eve all over again, blind to our nakedness, except the forbidden fruit we bit into is social media and we didn't bite it, we plugged into it; help us all for we are electrifyingly hooked. Plugging in is what made us naked, we were just fine before. The sly devil this time was no snake, but technology himself as he whispered the words in our ears "You need me", "You cannot advance without me", "You will feel more", "You will accomplish more", "People will notice you more", "Oh yes dear, your life will be better with the newest and best of everything, and darling, you can even tweet about it". He got me that's for sure. I bit in, plugged in, soaked in, rolled in, laid in and devoured it all. And still, I have not felt like my life is advancing that much more by letting the world know about it. So, I'm unplugging if you will. Quitting cold turkey. Is there a patch for that?

Funny how this can even be a topic of discussion right? I mean it's not like I'm an alcoholic that is finally putting down the bottle or a smoker who has decided it's not healthy to make my lungs turn black.  I'm a Facebook user. (Slowly walk to the podium, shoulders drooped, raise the microphone, clear my throat, "Ahem")

"Hi everyone, my name's Megan, and I'm a Facebook user"

 (Readers, "Hi Megan.")

"I've been using Facebook since 2006, the spring of my senior year in high school. At first I just uploaded really dumb pictures of me and my friends doing a whole lot of nothing. I made albums in college of what it was like to be a freshman, you know hanging out in a dorm room. I wrote on people's walls whom I wanted to like me. I uploaded pictures of me in a hotdog eating contest once, that was cool. I ate seven. Then sophomore year I changed my profile picture at least once a week. Had to give people a different look you know? That's when I should have realized I had a problem. But as an upperclassmen I lost my senses and uploaded pictures of me at parties because although my life was far from perfect, I wanted everyone to think I was having a great time. Some of those pictures deserve a good head shake now. But hey, I had to get some "likes" in my life, there were several things that were just unlikeable.

During this time I also let the Facebook world know I considered myself funny by posting random videos of myself being completely goofy and statuses that made even the Grinch grin. I don't know that the Grinch read my statuses but I assume he did because I assume everyone was just waiting around for me to post something. Weren't you? Then I moved away to the west coast. I let everyone know it was sunny there and that my life was pretty great. It was pretty great, really. These days I share a lot of music, because I want people to know I listen to good music, and quotes, I love quotes so you should too. I upload pictures of my family a lot, mostly because family and a few close friends are all I have besides Facebook. I want people to see that despite going through family struggles we can all line up together and take a pretty good picture.

 But what I do more than anything nowadays, is scroll. Scrolling seems to have what really made me realize Facebook is a problem. It's not a consistent scroll but I have found myself clicking on the Facebook application in the oddest of times just to "scroll". Damn the urge to scroll. You know like, at a stop light, in a restaurant, during a movie, watching a basketball game, on the toilet, laying in bed, while reading a book, bored at work, walking my dog, babysitting, eating dinner, talking to someone sitting next to me, riding on a bus, sitting at an airport, on a horse, etc. When I sat down and thought about it, those all seemed like perfectly good times to focus on being in the moment. When I'm watching a movie, should I not be paying attention? When someone is talking to me, should I not be listening? When I'm on a horse, heaven forbid, should I not be riding it? (I've only done the last one a couple times but it was still worth mentioning, wouldn't want you to think I can't even ride a horse without Facebook or anything). It was the videos too. The availability of video after video popping up on my newsfeed, it was all too available. Amazing videos, musical videos, funny videos, stupid videos of stupid people doing stupid things. "Why did I just watch that?" And so many interesting articles about what kind of personality I had, what celebrity was like me, if I really was an introvert, foods that I should be eating, things I wouldn't believe, you know that sort of useless information that can't be found in books. It had me. I told myself I didn't click too much, but so does the alcoholic tell themselves it's just one drink.

I'm not married or engaged, I don't have any children of my own, but I do have a dog and two plants I guess. Facebook has seen much of my dog lately. It will be a hard day, if the day comes that I get engaged and can't post it to Facebook so people I haven't talked to in ten years will know I'm getting married. How will those people find out? It will be hard to not upload a "baby" album of my future child, if I have one. Instead I will make a baby book, and a picture album that has pages my fingers can tangibly turn. This will be hard. Who will I show the pictures to? Who will see how wonderful my baby is? I hope everyone will get along okay without seeing these important events in my life. I wonder how people will know if I move? Oh yeah, I'll call or write a letter. This will be tough to get used to, not letting everyone know what I'm doing...(sigh)...thanks for listening.
 
(Reader, "Thanks Megan.")

Last night at 3am my Facebook account was hacked and someone successfully even changed my Facebook password. The hacking was done to promote Ray Ban Sunglasses and the hacker tagged 80 of my friends in the Ray Ban album I didn't create. I was silly to think there was actually a privacy setting on Facebook. I was silly to think anything about Facebook was private at all. It's all just another scheme to keep us distracted from something bigger while pushing consumerism down our throats. I will not be consuming any more Facebook, and I will not be buying any Ray Bans. Thank you. If you need to reach me feel free to contact me in person.

I'll find acceptance and love out there don't worry. Maybe I'll write a stand up about Facebook (wait, didn't I just do that?), or maybe by writing a book about life. Facebook has never paid me for my thoughts anyway. The machine in me is dying, but the creator in me lives on. Oh, hello there soul. Let's read a book.

Bye friends. See you in the real world.

Unplug.

Potential Can "Potentially" Be Thrown Out of Our Vocab

Potential. What is potential? The dictionary states, "having or showing the capacity to become or develop into something in the future" Personally, I believe this word should not be used when referring to people's abilities. Why? Labeling someone with potential does not make them any more likely to do anything than someone standing next to them "without potential". Action outweighs potential every single time. Too straightforward? Look at it like this.

There is a nest of eggs, sitting high in a tree. I can stare at those eggs and say, "Wow, that egg has the potential to fly one day." It's a duh moment isn't it? But, what are the chances of every single egg actually hatching, every bird inside that egg actually living, and then growing up strong enough to actually take that first terrifying leap into the air without falling? Potential does not make an egg fly, it is the process that proceeds the flight that makes it happen. If potential made an egg fly, the egg would literally grow wings the day it was hatched and fly away without hatching because it would not have to  become a strong and healthy bird to fly. Because of our potential, often times we never grasp the concept that we actually have to work to fulfill it.

Potential, in a way, gives people the idea that they are entitled, when labeled with it too often. What makes you any more deserving of something because you have great potential? I love writing. I have the potential to write a book. Have I written one? No. So where does potentiality get me in life? Complacent, comfortable, and willing to use excuses as to why I have not "lived up to my potential". I read about young authors who are writing books and say to myself, "I can do that", but until I sit at my laptop every night, until I manage my time wisely, until I go the extra mile to do what I know I can do, I will not write a book.

This goes for anything in life. If you want something bad enough, you do not need potential to achieve it. You need passion. Without passion, without a craving, without the determination to overcome any obstacle, potential will keep you right where you are. We've all heard of going the extra mile to achieve something. It is in that extra mile where potential exists, at the end of the race, in your final moments on the back stretch, when you kick it in and finish. That is where we find potential. Not in the starting blocks. If you want to amount to something great, you must be willing to suffer, feel uncomfortable, struggle, lose sleep, cry, take criticism, be told you can't, and fail. Otherwise, stay comfortable in your potential.

Understand, you have to make people think you are little crazy in order to do something great. If you aren't crazy, you're just normal. And normal is too satisfactory for greatness.

I'm tired of potential, and I would like to trade it in for action. Who's with me?

2014 - It's Not Your Year

Happy New Year to all who read this, and welcome to the year 2014. Another year has come and gone, faster than the last, and here we are again being tested already with our new year resolutions. It's been over a week now, and many of us have given up on that idea of going to the gym, especially after this cold weather, right? Who needs the gym when you have a couch and a warm blanket? If you are like me you come up with so many new ideas for the new year, the challenges seem a little overwhelming. I like a good challenge, but to admit to myself that I've failed yet again is no self esteem booster by any means. So my roommate says to me, "Well, just don't set any resolutions! Then you can't fail. Let's be honest, you say you are going to do a lot of things you never really do." Ouch, that was a stinger, but I thanked her for her honesty.

I chewed on that thought a bit, but to not set a goal just didn't seem right. In my mind it is better to set goals and not achieve them, then to not have any goals at all. But again, what is the point of having a goal for myself, when I give in too easy? Oh, the struggle. This last summer I wrote myself a letter titled, "Self-Improvement Letter". It read "Megan, In order for you to be a successful person who enjoys life and finds happiness in all you do, you must do these things every day." I listed 8 bullet points. Seemed simple enough. Well, I recently read over this letter, realizing I have not followed through with my promises to myself. And again, it seems all I have are good intentions. I once read in a book by my favorite author, Matthew Kelly, "If you want to measure the amount of happiness in your life, you must first measure the amount of discipline in your life. You cannot have one without the other." And here I am admitting I am not as disciplined as my intentions scream I am. My body rules my soul a good 75% of the time. Fail, fail, fail. 

Am I too hard on myself? Probably. But as I read over the list of things that I believe will make me happy I realized that all but one of them are things that I physically and mentally should do FOR MYSELF. These tasks, whether they were reading a chapter of a book, reflecting and praying, or going to the gym, were for MY OWN self improvement and for MY OWN knowledge. Then there was the one bullet point that read "Go out of your way to do something nice for someone, every single day." This had nothing to do with me, and yet, this bullet point held all the power and happiness in the world. To give selflessly of our time, our talents, and our treasures is where true happiness can be found. Sure it makes us feel good when we lose a few pounds, but why? Is it because our bodies actually feel better, or because we just expect a compliment in return for our hard work?

I will be blunt and say it...we live in one of the most narcissistic times the world has ever seen. It has become a natural habit to put ourselves before others. Society screams individuality, independence, go out and get what is yours, do this for you, etc. Yet there are so many unhappy people "chasing their dreams". Why? We are too caught up. Too caught up in what we can do for ourselves. When has it ever been about us? What verse in the bible says, "In all you do, think of only how you will benefit, and how you can look good."? It seems all we do in life is try to impress others, to find the end result in making ourselves feel good. What presidents, public figures, and saints do we love reading about and referring to most? The ones that put other people first. The ones that sacrificed some of their own time for someone else's. 10 years from now, no one will remember you for losing 20 pounds, for having the most money, for the car you drove, for the awards you received, for the places you've visited, and the for the books you've read. People remember what you do for them. People remember kindness, compassion, and empathy. In the end, nothing else really matters, literally.

So if you have failed yourself already this year, it's okay. Let this year be about what you can do for others, what you can achieve by helping a friend, or even a stranger. Trust me when I say this, the more you are doing something for someone else, the more motivated you become in improving yourself. So the only addition I would make to Matthew Kelly's quote is this, "If you want to measure the amount of happiness in your life, first you must measure the amount of discipline, and second, you must measure the amount of time you are giving to those around you." Let 2014 be someone else's year. Who's year are you going to change?  

If You Take Away Books: Just Read

In a world where we are using our thumbs for texting instead of turning pages, in a world where people would rather play angry birds on their iPad instead of get lost in a love story, in a world that no longer craves to open that first page and inhale the fresh "new book" scent as they so carefully put the first crease in the binding, some things have been lost. Imagination. Wonder. Timelessness.  

Books expand my imagination, which then formulate my own words on to paper, which in turn forces myself and others to think, which then result in growth and improvement. So if you take away books you take away the very part of my soul that strives for perfection. If you take away books, you will force me to settle for mediocrity. If you take away books you take away my sense of wonder. My need to find out more knowledge, more ideas, more viewpoints. And in turn, the more I find out, the more I realize how much I really don't know. But there is irony here because when I stop reading, when I stop searching, when I stop yearning, when I stop imagining, my soul dries up and only the mind takes over.  This is never good. Because the less I know, the more my mind thinks it knows. Then conversations become mundane and the simplest problem can expand into the most prevalent argument. Drama and kaos take over, time runs out too quickly, and I lay my head down on my pillow at night wondering if the conversations I took part in that day really improved my well being. No. Because I let my books get dusty, which caused my brain to soak up useless information instead, those found on flat boxes with talking heads, or robots with an iPhone addiction, or the latest scoop on celebrity gossip. When you take away books, you take away much more than paper filled with words. You take away our ability to converse, our ability to think, our willingness to improve, and you cause us to settle.

If you take away books, you have a world full of narcissists, walking around with phones enmeshed in their hands, and other people's ideas enmeshed in their brains. If you take away books you have a world full of people too busy to talk about anything deeper than surface level; if you don't have time to read, you definitely don't have time for "good conversation". If you take away books, you take away imaginations, people's ability to sit and day dream, to conjure up a story plot, a new goal in life, a good deed to perform. If you take away books, we will settle. I know we will settle. Because without books in this society, people will never know the stories of those before us. Those people who knew that pure timelessness will get you further in life than cramming your schedule with "things to do", which in the end are useless acts that somehow take priority to things that are important.

Consider yourself a seed, and your environment the soil. Without books raining down on you, shining upon you, causing you to sink your roots deep into the soil, all you will be is a seed, and all you will consider yourself is a seed, and you will only associate yourself with other seeds. And the life of a seed is all you will know. Your ability to grow will never be realized. You have the potential to flower, to branch, to shade others, if only you take the time to expand the mind. Sometimes the best education we can receive is the one we give to ourselves. Read, reflect, and soak up the world in a way that seems to be going extinct. Just read.

2013, Year of Cupid's Arrow

There comes a certain point in everyone's life when they look down at their glass of water, then stop mid drink, take a look around them, and have an epiphany, "There's something in this drinking water." I had this realization at about 7:52am this morning while standing at the sink in my pajamas. I spit out my water and quickly switched to coffee with this daunting thought in mind, "Kearney water, or maybe just Nebraska water, makes everyone fall in love and get engaged." Then, I looked at my City of Kearney bill sitting on the table, realizing the due date is drawing near, and see it yelling back at me, "You owe $72 dollars!" How dare you Kearney, make me drink your water and then charge me to potentially get engaged.

Okay so maybe that theory is a bit far fetched? But it's obvious that 2013 is the year of engagement and even weddings for that matter, or at least it is on Facebook terms. Beautiful rings and smiles, cupid hearts, flowers, skittle rainbows, bubbly wine glasses, unicorns, life events revealed on Facebook statuses, butterfly tummies, chocolate strawberries, high pitched giggles, sparkles and glitter, (I'm getting carried away aren't I?) Well, to say the least, people are in love around here. I just witnessed Bernard the squirrel pull out a ring while gracefully dancing among the branches outside my window this morning. Pretty cool seeing a squirrel get on his knee. He told Esther he would give her all the acorns in the world. What female squirrel could pass up that offer? Naturally she said yes.

Now I realize this story is written by a woman who has not been in a relationship since the school musical in high school, (even then, it was still just acting), so one may think this view is rather biased and all this sarcasm is just a way to disguise bitterness at the core. Well, good assumption naturally, but no. I just like to write stories. And this story has been waiting to be told. There is just so much love and romance in the air, so I had to address it. Now that I think about it, maybe there's a conspiracy theory the government is scheming. Could it be? Could all of you lovers really be secret agents in some sort of Engagement Conspiracy. You tricksters. Caught ya!

Since I was born in the year of the Dragon, the Chinese proverb states, "You prefer to be alone." (Which is ironically quite true most days). Thanks a lot mom and dad. And also, since Joan of Arc is my patron saint, that makes me a fighting single white female. You go girl. Oh sarcasm, how I love to insert you randomly. Anyway, if it isn't obvious already, I will not be joining all you lovers out there on your walk down Cupid Shuffle Road any time soon, but wanted to congratulate all my engaged friends, two who just happen to be my roommates, and do so in my own quirky way. I wish you all the best!

To the rest of you who find yourselves in the single status, remember this story next time you take a drink of water...

My Talk With God in the Mirror

I looked at myself in the mirror this morning, and saw the blemishes. They had come to visit like a thief in the night, stealing my pores and making it known that they found a home for a few days, a home that was really never meant to be theirs. I splashed my face with cold-water letting the water run down my chin; secretly hoping the uninvited guests would disappear with each drop. But even now, I know they will always show up at this time of the month. Then as I rub my eyes I notice they look a little greener, gradually slimming to brown right around the pupils. Today my face looks older; the bags under my eyes are more evident. Of course I've had my share of sleepless nights worrying, and those times of burying my head in the pillow so only the fabric and I knew I actually had tears to cry, otherwise it seems they only come out during funerals or when I have had too much poison in my belly. Well, and in the shower on occasion, I'm a woman. Today I look down at my hands as I put toothpaste on my toothbrush, my beautiful hands. They have been with me through so much, carrying the reins of many horse rides, shooting hundreds of thousands of basketballs, writing so many words, embracing countless hugs, touching ocean waves and city walls, turning pages of books to flood my mind with knowledge, and helping me carry the world with me wherever I travel. Because of them I have memories. My hands I have to thank for much of my success.

How many days have my hands tried to help cover these blemishes on my face, and accent the greenish brown colors in my eyes? How many times must I look in the mirror before I discover, my face is only my face and my hands are only my hands? My hands have been my greatest servants, and yet they can be so useless at times, those times I never seem to improve much. Those times when they shouldn't have shoveled another bite in my mouth, or brought another bottle to my lips. Those times when I have allowed fingers to intertwine with mine as though somehow that will cure the loneliness. In the end I know my hands are only trying to help, but they get in the way. I have become too familiar with them and what they can do for me and I forget about something that isn't tangible, something that is far from what my hands can grasp. My soul. Now, that is a thing that can be hard to get in touch with these days eh? After all, we cannot see our soul in the mirror every day, and I find it hard to tell my soul to fetch me a glass of water. However, behind every action my hands commit, lies the inner voice of my soul, either agreeing or disagreeing with the movements. It's not that we can't hear it because the voice is too quiet, no; the world has just become too loud.

I look in the mirror today and notice my hair has not met a pair of scissors in over a year and a half. Yes, this sight is frightening to any hairdresser but this stirs within my rattling brain a thought. What if our souls were worn on the outside, how frightened would we all be? What if others could see my soul the way they see my hair? What if those blemishes on my face could also be found in my soul? I imagine them to be dark shadowy places, with webs and dusty shelves above empty chairs; places we wouldn't dare let a visitor rest their head, not even with a flashlight in hand. So I look at my greenish eyes in the mirror and say, "Why not clean up the corners of my soul, the places I don't dare set foot because of my own insecurities and fears?" If I can wash my face every day, and spend money dressing up a body I have become all too familiar with, I think maybe, just maybe, I can give some more attention to my soul.

So I stared deep into those eyes this morning and said, "Body, I have experienced much with you. Itches, bruises, and scrapes, stomach growls, lovers' hands, wonderful food as it touched your toungue and drinks I cannot even name. I have experienced with you much pain from injuries and some pain from stupidity. Body, you have been with me through it all but too many times I have allowed you to be in control. You are greedy, lustful, lethargic if I allow it, you cry out to me for pain relief when you ache, you beg me to press the snooze button too many times, you tell me to give up when I am making your feet go faster than you'd like. You body, although I'd like to thank, I must also inform you, that it is time for discipline. Yes, I've tried before and failed, but my soul is strong you see. It doesn't quit. Souls these days are too submissive, letting the outer self control what lies within. I cannot let you, body, and let you take control of the part of me that will always live. In case you didn't know, one day you will be no more. Those dollar bills you keep in the bank won't matter, grocery store trips to feed your belly won't matter, the way you look in heels or the way you curl the hair on your delicate head won't matter, and yes, even the way you present yourself to others, well, that won't matter either. Unless...unless the way others perceive you becomes something more. Body, if someone can look into those greenish brown eyes and see my soul shine, then and only then should you be proud of what your hands are doing for you." 

Then I put my toothbrush back in its place and smiled, because it was then that I knew today was going to be a good day. My hands and I were off to do great things, letting my soul lead the way, and somehow my hands were found typing on this keyboard writing this short story. And now my soul has urged me to share it. The whole time I've been writing, my stomach ironically, has been growling for attention, but of course I chuckle silently saying, "Body, this time, your wishes come second." 

Thank you God for that conversation in the mirror this morning.

My Family of Origin

While gathering information about all the events that preceded my birth, and simultaneously going back into the collection of memories I have stored away, entailing any recollection of important events involving all my “loved ones”, I began to see my family as a puzzle. My perspective of this puzzle however, is not one that would be seen mounted neatly on a wall after each piece had found it’s perfect place in the scattered array of carefully carved out cardboard. My family is one that has in fact forced pieces together that maybe were not ever intended to fit. Edges are found next to edges while holes sit beside holes, barely holding them together by a corner. Some pieces were lost and later found while others tried so hard to fit into just the right place. There have been spills, scratches, markings and tears on every piece, some indeed more than others. Taking a long look at this dreadful, yet beautiful masterpiece is an astonishing sight. What I find most incredible is that through all the journeys this puzzle has made, storms it has weathered, lives it has touched, or rather lives that have touched it, each piece still remains intact, letting whatever part of itself reach out and converge the piece closest, as if it is the most natural thing to do. The concurrent fusion and separation cause the whole work of art to combust into a glow. No, my family is not in flames, but within each piece you can see a burning desire. Each desire is slightly different but it is evident each believes in something stronger and more powerful than they can fathom, and thankfully because of this, I have learned through much hardship and much love, the power of a family. And with this flame I feel so fervently burning within me, I plan to become more than just a spark, to eventually, as Great Grandma Lu said it, "set the world on fire".