I've been in a social media funk for quite some time. My Twitter account is gathering cobwebs, my blogs have sat waiting for me to better organize them and add new content, and I have received umpteen-gazillion emails from Facebook letting me know I have notifications pending.
Don't even get me started on the LinkedIn invites.
But I have shied away from my social media outposts (a nod to Chris Brogan on that term; yes, I still like to listen in to the convos at the big kids table) for the better part of two months. Sure, I've posted here a bit, but not consistently and certainly not with any clear direction or purpose. Any recent activity here at W-M has been less about creating and sharing good content with you, my loyal audience (God love ya), and more about simply blowing off steam when the words in my head pile up on each other like waves ahead of an advancing hurricane.
There is so much I love about social media, about the Digital Revolution. A voice for all. A platform for anyone. The breaking down of barriers to getting and sharing information, to seeking and sharing stories.
Our stories, yours and mine.
But there is much about it that wearies me. It is incessant and urgent and ever-present, 24/7, 365 days a year. I have found that ignoring all my electronic devices by diving into a good book or working outdoors in the yard are the best ways to escape it.
That I received a Kindle for Christmas and have already loaded about ten books is rich with irony. ;-)
Yet there is so much about social media and our Digital Revolution to love, to appreciate, and to cultivate despite the weariness and overload - precisely because of the weariness and overload.
Because there is good to be found in social media, much good, and there are moments, like today, when I see something that makes me remember the reason why four years ago I dared to take my first step onto the Digital Continent.
I wasn't dreaming of being an influencer or creating a new business or even landing a book deal when I wrote my first post.
I simply wanted to do one thing: share my story.
So watching Ben Breedlove (may he rest in peace) share his story this morning - a morning during which I walked my dog, fed my kids, and worried about trivial things like the frizz level of my hair and which paperwork task to tackle first - helped me remember all that is good in my life.
Ben's story helped me remember the ultimate good that social media offers:
One person sharing their story with the world and (hopefully) changing the world.
Thank you for the hope, Ben - for eternity and for Social Media.