Hoarders

I've never watched the popular cable show about hoarding, but I can understand how people who tune in might feel a sort of horrified fascination. I think it might be akin to our interest in reading celebrity gossip columns in the newspaper or magazines. (I officially know I'm getting old because I've never heard of most of the people being written about.)

Sorry, I'm rabbit trailing. I want to talk about hoarding for a moment - virtual hoarding .

After receiving my Kindle Fire for Christmas last year it didn't take long for me to find out how I could receive daily emails informing me about free or low-cost ebooks. Before I knew it, my Kindle library was stuffed with dozens of fascinating books I knew I would love to read.

How many have I actually read? I am too ashamed to reveal that pitifully small number.

The other source of virtual hoarding for me is Pinterest. I think I joined Pinterest last year and initially spent hours trolling through everyone's newest pins every day repinning like crazy. (Here's a major confession. I went onto Pinterest to double check something while writing this, got sucked right in and was pinning and repinning before I knew what hit me.)

Do I ever go and look back to see what's on my boards? No.

Does this suck hours away from my day?  Yes.

Are Pinterest and downloaded ebooks inherently evil?  No.

Is downloading books I won't live long enough to read and pinning ideas on my boards that I don't even bother looking at a wise use of my time?  No.

Why do I feel compelled to become entangled in virtual hoarding? In real life I'm the antithesis of a hoarder. I'm constantly sorting through my possessions and donating or throwing them away. I am entranced by the thought of simplicity and minimalism.

I don't like piles, I don't like mess and I don't like chaos. But I do like books and reading. Storing books on my Kindle allows me to indulge my passion for reading at no expense of money and space.

I also like recipes, humor, decorating and craft ideas and Doctor Who (I really need to write about my Doctor Who fixation sometime soon.) and Pinterest allows me to collect and store all of these "ideas".

I don't have any collections of things in my home (mainly because I hate having to dust), but Pinterest allows me to collect whatever I like for free and without having to find room to store my collections or dust them.

But, realizing the ridiculousness of hoarding virtual books and ideas a few months ago, I stopped reading the daily emails that lured me to download lots and lots of free books I might want to read someday. I just open those emails occasionally. When I see something interesting I stop and ask myself, "Will you really, honestly read this book?" Most of the time I ruefully answer myself, "No, you idiot." And so, I don't download.

What about Pinterest? I just stopped cold turkey. Every month or two I'll pop on and take a look, but at the end of my browsing I see that an hour or more has passed and am shocked that I've used so much time accomplishing nothing. That realization is what keeps me from away from Pinterest.

So, like all things in life, I need to exercise moderation. The things I am attracted to and enjoy aren't usually bad, but should probably be enjoyed in very small doses.


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They Like Me, They Really Like Me

When did we develop such as obsessive need to be liked?

We seek to "friend" people on Facebook (and be friended) not only to connect with our current circle of friends and reconnect with friends from our past, but seemingly to prove our popularity by how many "friends" we have.  Who isn't delighted when dozens of friends "like" an item we've posted?  It is affirming.  We feel listened to.  We feel as if we've made a connection.  We feel liked.

But, how many of our "friends" are genuinely friends who truly like us?

This reminds me of Pinterest, a sort of Facebook in an idea-sharing, virtual scrap-booky kind of way.  Don't we all want lots of fellow-Pinteresters to like what we like and re-pin our pins?  Don't we secretly wish for an extensive list of followers oohing and aahing over our boards, admiring our taste and virtual creativity?

Twitter, Instagram, blogs, who know what else taps a secret place inside of us that craves affirmation?  Whether we receive it from friends or strangers, does it matter?  They like us, they really like us!

Few, if any people, go out of their way to try and persuade people not to like them. And, really, there's nothing wrong with wanting to be liked.  But should it matter so much?  Will our birthday be ruined if 45 people don't post birthday greetings on our Facebook wall?

Will we still view ourselves as worthwhile people even if no one follows our Pinterest boards?

A strong sense of self, liking who we are and being comfortable and happy in our skin, is of more worth than having 700 Facebook friends.  And a deep connection with two or three people is much more fulfilling than 60 "likes" on our newest pin or post.  Quantity is not quality.  So let's all try to put the brakes on our obsession with being "liked".  Instead, let's work on forging strong bonds with a few authentic friends who we can touch skin-to-skin and see if we can stop craving so many virtual (((((((((hugs))))))))).

Kindling the Flame or Ode to the Kindle

My heart's on fire for you,
my Kindle Fire.
Never would I dream,

I could love a book,
not made from paper.

My love affair with books
begun so young
has never ceased.
Suddenly, you came along,
turned my head, inflamed my heart.

Was it your color,
your sleek looks,
the weighty feel of you in my hand?
The luxury of never being caught
without a good book?

In truth, I must confess
it is the WiFi that lured me,
tempted me,
caused me to abandon
my long time love.

With you I check my email,
the weather forecast,
interact on Ravelry, Facebook,
Goodreads, Pinterst
with the lightest touch.

I can never abandon you,
my faithful book.
Our history is long,
intense, passionate.
But, we change.

Transitions,
transitions must occur.
We adapt, grow.
We change
and enlarge our lives.

I know, I believe
there is room for two.
You can co-exist,
together in my life,
my Kindle, my book.

Blogging A to Z Challenge, the letter K

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