So I’m new to the blogging. Clearly, I’m also still insecure about it and need to make disclaimers. I’ll try to shut up about that.
One of the reasons I’ve been reticent about diving into social networking (besides worrying I have nothing to say) is: I don’t want to walk through life in a double-tasked, obsessive fog constantly crafting the wittiest facebook posting, the dreamiest Instagram picture, or the most re-tweetable tweet.
I’m already busy with a triple-tasking mentality. My quick conveyor belt of to-do- tasks exhausts even me. But I don’t need social networking to invade my thoughts and make me a quadruple-tasker.
As it is, I’m terrible about taking moments just to be. Sometimes I think I should take up smoking because it might force me to step out of my current preoccupation to breathe deeply. But I’m sure I would double-task my smoke trolling my phone for some absent, but obviously life-changing, email I’m not expecting. I suppose lung cancer isn’t the answer.
So won’t becoming a blogging/posting/tweeting/choosing-the-perfect-Instagram-filter-er disconnect me all the more from living “in the moment”?
Yet, to my great surprise, in the few weeks that I’ve ventured down this path, I think I’ve been a better about the moments.
Sure, I snap even more pictures of my kids. But I also actively look for things to remember and document. It’s helping me search out the moment to relish.
A few days ago, while enjoying a blissful afternoon in Washington Square Park, I coaxed Big E into laying on the artificial grass with me. We took a few minutes to look up at the trees.
We saw a plastic grocery bag stuck in the branches overhead. I told Big E it was a kite. He went with it.
We lay there together in a few minutes of adorable calm.
Yes, I took a picture of it.
But we had the moment. That was progress.