Forgive me, Fans, Friends, and Followers, for I have sinned.
It’s been weeks (and in some cases, even months!) since my last real-time Facebook update, blog post, TwitPic, Blip, Twitter “@” reply, or LinkedIn exchange.
My mind and fingers have gone through withdrawals — physical spasms, mental texting, ghost editing, faux outreach, unrequited networking, and pleasant banter that never made it out of my head and into this Web-bound dimension.
I’ve stood behind my husband’s shoulders, watching his social activity with a lust and loathing akin to the torturous plight of Twilight‘s Edward and Bella.
I want to indulge. Surrender. Sink my teeth into all of the juicy, rapturous outlets and interplays available to me.
Ahhhh, to post an old school photo, tag a group of long-lost friends, and see the rush of connected frivolity cascade upon my page! Ohhhh, to tweet my whims and musings without angst or agenda, just for the sheer fun of it. I’ve done it before! I can do it again! I can keep it in check, I will! I must!
Alas, I resist tempation, denying myself the power and freedom the platforms lavish upon me.
You see, I’ve put myself on the social media wagon.
Social media detox. It’s not a good time to do it. (Is it ever?) Nor is it professionally sound. Social media’s Vampires of Judgmentalism prey on any traces of inconsistent engagement, let alone consummate social celibacy.
But I had to do it. I knew myself enough to know I had to quit my socializing cold turkey for a spell so I could rejigger my thoughts, refuel my spirit, and regain a sliver of perspective and sanity.
There are complications.
As co-owner of Epiphanies, Inc., a business that has spent the last six years hailing the miraculous might of targeted content over online channels to reach niche markets, communicate world-changing ideas, and boost business like nothing we’ve seen in 10,000 years of human civilization, stepping off the social media crazy train is heresy.
Just like all those preachers and politicians who condemn alternative recreational pastimes only to be discovered snorting meth, snogging call girls, and toe-tapping morse code in public restrooms, it’s hypocritical of me to go off the grid. My husband and I have spent the last year explaining to thousands of people — via teleclasses, speaking engagements, workshops, print media, interviews, YouTube videos, you name it — how essential it is for all serious entrepreneurs, global brands, and mission-driven organizations to get past all reservations and get into the social game.
We’ve cited statistics (i.e. at 350,000,000 users, if Facebook were a nation, it would be the 3rd most populated country in the world), released a free Special Report (“37 Easy Ways to Boost Biz Visibility, Revenue, & Results With Twitter!“), and created a Social Media Kick Start Virtual Boot Camp (6 webinar-style modules, templates, checklists, audios), all for the purpose of helping professionals get the information they need to succeed in this stunningly robust online environment.
“It’s easy! Fun! Leveraged! Fascinating!” I’d whoop. And it IS. All of it. Thing is, I got so awestruck by social media’s potential and implications, so gaga over the life-changing success stories, opportunities, and activities I was seeing on the front lines, I short circuited.
Instead of heeding any of my own tips and strategies for social success (time blocking, outsourcing, planning, leveraging content, embracing imperfection, crafting editorial calendars, setting up systems based on vision and ROI, and last but not least, PLAYING), I just stepped away.
It hurts to stop, by the way. You’ve seen what’s happening, 24/7. You know there are conversations you’re missing, contacts wondering why you’ve left them hanging, technologies evolving, and events coming and going without your knowledge or participation.
For example, I just found out in holiday cards that a dear childhood pal of mine eloped months ago, while another had his first baby, and still another celebrated the galley copies of her third book. No doubt I would have known in a respectable time frame had I been tuning into their news feeds like a good friend should.
So there’s sadness. And shame. And lots of self-flagellation.
You feel alienated – desperate for a fix, but determined to battle the detox demons at all costs. If you meet up with friends, colleagues, and associates in the real world, they talk about trending topics, viral videos, parties, meetings, and happenings about which you know nothing. You feel like a fallen octoganarian using an iPhone to dial 911 – completely helpless and utterly hopeless, even though you know the tools you need to fix the problem are right there at your fingertips.
The good news is, I’ve been to the Dark Side of non-engagement, and I’ve lived to tell about it. Turns out the world actually DOESN’T stop spinning on its axis if you duck out of your social networks for a stint.
The real friends and business professionals who matter over the long term not only forgive you, they manage to find creative ways to contact you. Some use that oldie but goody, the phone call! Others text. Still others give a shout out to those in your life’s inner circle (in my case, my spouse), and ask them to deliver messages. It may be a little inconvenient, but it works nonetheless.
Now, as I consider re-entering the social stratosphere feeling refreshed, squared away, and excited to get back into the game, I feel like I’m coming to the party with a new set of skills. Skills like intention, realism, forgiveness, prudence, and purpose. As silly as it sounds, before my detox, I thought I’d be able to keep up with the world’s information and output while sending off my own contributions at a Mach 7 pace.
I cannot. Nor can you.
However, I CAN accept my limits, respect my goals, and commit to a social media recovery and discovery process that values responding over reacting, and imperfect communications over perfect, tantrum-fueled silence.
Turns out the same virtues we revere in the real world are essential in the virtual realm. Compassion. Understanding. Acceptance. Forward progress despite roadblocks and detours.
As social media continues to connect, divide, multiply, and conquer, we must remember we’re all mere mortals doing the best we can with the resources available to us, and these tools and platforms can either torment us, or help us triumph.
It’s up to us to choose the frame of the game.
