I’ve been thinking a lot about connections and reconnections lately.
(I promise there’s a book review in here somewhere, and I promise it’s relevant. I also know this is a Monday post. I won’t backdate it- it happens.)
I’ve always found interconnectedness fascinating, which is part of why I have chosen to pursue a second Master’s degree in Strategic Communication. On one hand, I am amazed at how incredible our networks can be and how well people can keep in touch through social media. News breaks so quickly these days and I’ve mentioned that I love the accessibility of popular culture. But I’ve had this nagging feeling lately that there’s such a thing as being too connected through social media.
I’ve brought up this theory to a few friends recently and to some degree, people seem to understand my perspective. It boils down to this: social media allows for constant comparison. As much as it’s easy to consciously remember that people post selectively, even the most confident person might subconsciously succumb to the idea that they are somehow behind or doing “worse” (whatever that means) than others. It’s hard to imagine a life without Facebook, Instagram and Twitter, and I certainly extol their virtues far more than I focus on their negatives, but it’s also hard to deny that there might be some value in being a little less connected. It ties a lot back to my favorite concept from Blink: we create the story lines that we want to believe, even when they are entirely in our own minds, and I tend to believe that this is exacerbated by social media.
But the good news is, even with all of that noise of virtual connection, there are a lot of important ways to connect and reconnect. Sometimes it’s in the traditional sense- being in touch with someone you haven’t heard from or seen in a while- but there’s also a chance to find the opportunity to do this at really ordinary times.
Even yesterday’s plan to make a ton of matzo toffee was about connecting and reconnecting. Reconnecting with baking- my preferred coping mechanism a few years back (and I’ll admit that it was a motivation this weekend as well)- but also reconnecting with a routine. As much as I avoid the kitchen, there’s a certain catharsis in both the exactness and inexactness of the baking process. Connecting with others through the actual product- I headed to work this morning with pounds upon pounds of toffee to share in person or by mail. Food is the greatest common connector, especially the kind that has ungodly amounts of sugar, butter and chocolate.
I connected and reconnected at Pilates yesterday also. I reconnected, both with myself and with the process. I connected with the other women in my class- it was a small and quiet class with a phenomenal instructor. Because of that amazing instructor, I was able to reconnect with some 90s music too. I was cursing my choice to sign up for an early morning class but walked out feeling better than I could have expected and, for once, excited to return.
And- here it comes- this week’s book was ultimately about reconnecting also. No Way To Treat a First Lady is, at its core, the same political satire that Christopher Buckley is largely known for and that I’ve absolutely loved for years. The characters come back together after years apart around the same tragic story. It’s classic Buckley and it was a pretty perfect choice.
One summer in college, I had a similar urge to challenge myself in the reading realm. I don’t think I had any kind of set goal in mind, but I spent more time back and forth to the Syosset library than anywhere else that summer. Though I read a range of books that summer, I was most compelled by Christopher Buckley. In this way, I was reconnecting with the author, but also reconnecting with myself in college. It wasn’t hard to put myself back into that mindset- the excited terror of being halfway through the college experience and realizing that what I had in mind for the future wasn’t quite my goal any longer. It’s a little disconcerting to sometimes feel as though I am in a similar space years later, but in connecting with the idea that I’ve found direction before, it all feels a little more doable.
The book itself is about forgiveness and moving forward and has a really great storyline to boot (though you wouldn’t know it from this review). There’s an obvious connection here in that I’ve always been really interested in the lives of the First Ladies, but none are as wicked as the main character of the book. If you’ve made it this far in the review, I do have to recommend the book highly- it’s not quite Thank You For Smoking level for me, but it’s as strong as anything else he’s written.
You’ll like this if: you like political satire, mystery and/or court cases. Believe it or not, I think it’s better suited for smaller thinking than what I took out of it, but I’m feeling particularly introspective this week.
Happy reading!
carlyreads 