the challenge of discernment in social media

Maybe in our own family we have somebody who is feeling lonely, who is feeling sick, who is feeling worried. Are we there? Let us know the poor in our own families first. We have old people: they are put in institutions and they are never visited; with less and less time even to smile at each other, with less and less time to be together. Love begins at home, if we can only make our own homes temples of love. -- Mother Teresa

Facebook has changed its privacy policies to allow more granular and specific options for how its millions of users choose to share information. This is good. I have a Facebook account but am taking an unscheduled, unannounced leave of absence. I like that I can connect with people who are important to me, but perhaps am queasy about what other people choose to share online. As a for instance, only when a former head of state passed away did I read lamentations and comments from that ex-leader's citizenry and that's entirely good; with another country's voting bloc it's all vehemence and anger and divisive political/religion discourse. I'm proud to say that my compatriots voice their opinions only on appropriate moments, like our December 2008 Parliamentary crisis and proroguement.

The divisive partisanship reminds me I don't really have a home here.

I had a perfectly lovely dinner with some family last week. Since my mother died I had been feeling cut adrift from relations: my sibling chose to visit people and maybe that was the better approach; I bought a house so I could have some stability and roots. My sibling is still hurting because his attempts to reconnect have been spurned by some who he feels believe he is responsible indirectly for speeding our mom to an early grave. I felt and still feel that people should have the option for redefining our relationships. Most gave up--the most animated relation did teasing things like repeatedly announce they were flying in and wanted to see us, and then not ever calling or e-mailing until after they returned home. For ten years I endured this and thought: "there must be some end to this. I cannot be so bad a person to deserve this for this long." I sheltered a very ill, homeless friend for months, I volunteer, I donate when I can, I have made my diet and consumption habits political choices for the greater good. I didn't dare have expectations of "we've missed you. Here's our address and phone number and e-mail: it would be good to hear from you." Which is good, because only my godmother/aunt and my mom's youngest cousin made any such move. I have leapt and enlisted and plan to host dinners to reciprocate.

When I received a Facebook invite in October 2008 I thought it would be a great tool for reconnection with longlost relations: however, it's only good if I and the other person jointly want to reconnect. I've left birthday greetings, asked for addresses for Christmas cards. My cousins circulate their "all about me" quizzes to every other cousin but me. Ouch. I've let go, months later, of the hope of pursuing healthy loving relationships, conscious that the work and interest are all at my end and stay at my end.

People have said that the act of withholding oneself, and one's gifts (should one be lucky and self-aware enough to have them) is a form of selfishness. But what if you've tried sharing, self-monitoring and self-checking to remove any controversy or misconstruement, and there's no audience among those who should be your nearest and dearest?

"To smile at someone who is sad; to visit, even for a little while, someone who is lonely; to give someone shelter from the rain with our umbrella; to read something for someone who is blind; these and others can be small things, very small things, but they are appropriate to give our love of God concrete expression to the poor." -- Mother Teresa