We’re all on social media too much. Social media. It’s not social. If anything, it has become a pathway to avoidance and isolation. Heads crooked forward, phone in hands, fingers dragging across screens. As if reposting is the modern equivalent of show-n-tell. It is an illusion, trickery. A lie. It even robs us from being with ourselves. Ironic that my thoughts today stem from things I saw on Instagram. First, some random tech billionaire who claims that introspection didn’t exist 400 years ago and his lack of introspection, self-analysis or even NOSTALGIA is the key to progress and forward momentum. Really? Read the Bible. The Great Books. Sun Tzu and the Art of War. Without introspection we have no ART, no creativity. Van Gogh’s Sunflowers required introspection (and maybe a literal bit of flesh). I do not want a world without introspection. Faith, belief, worship all REQUIRE introspection.
And I ask myself, “What is progress?” For me it is the actual, literal space and time to be introspective. To ponder the purpose of life, of me. Why am I here? Why might I matter? How have I contributed? Today. With my life. The microcontribution is the simple act of kindness I do for my spouse – or a stranger. The daily contribution can be a multitude of acts of generosity or kindness: bake a loaf of sourdough, pack my lunch box, call a patient and talk to them about their results. Apologize. I believe my life has been a contribution. I grew and bore two humans. Raised them. And they are fine people. I built a house. I have attended to thousands of people as physician – stepping into that circle of trust and offering intellect and reason and compassion.
But, I am also learning how to attend to myself. And when I started Realisa, one of my intentions was to point to the wonder and awe and value the whimsy.
And thus, my second acknowledgement of a social media post (again on Instagram – truthfully reported from TikTok – which I do not do). Tiny, silly, whimsical things people do in their days. (Such as the person who shared that when they have self-critical thoughts, they force themselves to say them aloud in a Cockney accent.) Brilliant and silly things. It makes you laugh – or at least smile. A microjoy.
Can we fill the day with microjoy as a counterweight to the microaggression? And isn’t it sad – and telling – that my spell checker identifies microjoy as a misspelled, unkn0wn word, yet microaggression exists in the lexicon?
Be radical today. Create microjoy. Seed the day with minute points of whimsy and joy. Our world is like a fallow field, devoid of the necessary microorganisms for thriving and abundance. It cannot be restored instantly. There is no solution to be poured on our existence that will fix it NOW. It requires incremental changes for renewal. Progress is built on introspection.
Joy is a form of resistance.
