I Believe It's Time For Me To Fly

So I have been internetting for a while. I have discovered it may not be a good fit for me. I have the usual suspects of Facebook and Twitter and some other stuff. I originally did it to promote my writing, but these days my writing is taking a back seat to my life. Things are changing, shape shifting if you will. I believe I am facing a test in character, and I am not getting the joy out of the internet like I used to. It's too much for my old soul. If my mother was right and I really am an old soul, then maybe my relic-like personality needs to give up the information highway. I have thought about doing this for a while now, with all the politics, unnecessary roughness and constant contact. "What are you doing? Where have you been? What is the plan?" I have gotten called more names than I can to think about from relative strangers. Technically they are people I knew once, who now feel as though they know me well enough to say anything they want. It doesn't really bother me that much, but I am starting to feel restless, starting to want to move through all this and stick to the friends I know for certain I can count on. Our life is hard, the kind of hard that has us asking questions about things we used to be pretty certain about. I had posted things on my wall that I thought were atrocious, only to have someone call me a whiner. I suppose to them I was whining when seemingly I have it so good, but all I did in actuality was express an opinion. My perspective these days has shifted, too. I am not as tolerant as I used to be. I am not going to tolerate all the name calling like I used to. Disrespect me and you will find yourself outside the walls of my little world. Just as so many in my generation are just now finding facebook and other venues, I am calling it quits. It's not just a time waster, it's a time killer. It's a creativity killer as well. My favorite writers do not do any internet stuff. They don't because I think they know what I recently discovered. Writing takes lots of time. My new day job as a collegemfinancial advisor takes lots of time. Hell, grocery shopping takes lots of time. If I want any hope of accomplishing anything at all in my life, I need to guard my time and stop looking at innocuous pictures of playing kittens, not that they aren't adorable, but seriously, I live in a domesticated petting zoo. I would like to spend more time with them, too. I wasn't looking for drama when I posted that I was leaving. I wasn't seeking out attention, so that people would say how much they love or would miss me. I was merely trying to back out of something that no longer fit. It was a little like trying on that bathing suit I had 15 years ago, only to discover it no longer does what I had originally intended and now the spandex showcases my most unflattering spots. I deactivated my account and discovered the world did not end. My author page is still up, but I will only be using it to do what I had originally planned, promote my writing. I felt very much at peace with my decision to start disappearing for a while. Little by little I will be backing away from all the internet typing and start writing again with my chewed up pen and the tattered pages of my old spiral notebook. It is the way I like to write, the way my body feels the most comfortable while my mind and soul let loose all the words that are pushing on the inside of my skull. My friends can email me, or call. I like voices, the tenor and tone of the modulating air as it passes from their lips and sinks into my ears. All this unnecessary chatter online, the abject cruelty that people spew out thinking themselves brilliant for knocking someone on their ass, for no other reason than they can, well, that is not for me. My mom and I argued about the political games afoot. Not once did she call me stupid, ignorant, or a whiner, baby, socialist or heaven forbid a progressive. We just passionately said our very opposing views and let it all go. My parents, a very imperfect couple who gave birth to a very imperfect child, taught me that it is completely acceptable to not agree. What is not acceptable, is all the unnecessary roughness of those who do not know how to articulate their thoughts without condemning the other people around them. It's all too much. I looked at Mike the other day and thought what are we doing? What the hell are we doing? The outside world was starting to take a role in our lives it had not earned. Someone online referred to me going through something. Well, I am always going through something, everyday I get to decide who I am and which direction I want to go. For those who think me depressed, your wrong. My back bone is made of steel. I didn't survive so many things to fall apart now when so many things are cresting. Mike and I for the first time in our lives get to sit back and ask this: where do we really want to live, to do, what makes us happy? Right now, I could give a crap about much else other than my integrity, my faith, and more importantly my family. Right now, we are devising a plan, a plan about us, our future, and how we see ourselves. It's remarkable to sit back and ask, "what if we sold everything and just moved? If we could live anywhere, doing anything, where would we go? What activities do we love, and where is the place that best suits us?" Think of the last time you got to really pontificate about your life, where your choices seemed limitless? Was it in your twenties, before you established your life and family? Mike and I had promised each other we would support our dreams for ourselves and each other. We promised ourselves we would not get stuck somewhere or doing something just because someone dictated it. We promised each other we would always remember that we determine our worth. Well, it's pay day on those promises. We knew instinctively that one day we would come to a cross roads and have to decide if we wanted to practice what we had promised; today is that day. If you are a parent, then you know exactly how many times you have put your kids first. You can track your child's life stages by every gray hair you acquire, but eventually kids grow up and if you are at all an effective parent, they want to strike out on their own and live their lives according to their directives. With no one to dictate geography, or salary, or school district, Mike and I find ourselves wanting things we had put on hold until the kids were old enough. They are old enough now, they are for the most part independent souls seeking out their own futures. They are wishing us whatever we want for our happiness. For us, doors are closing and other doors have slammed wide open, letting in all kinds of crazy notions and ideas. So, in the spirit of the old joke, what do you feed a 300 pound tiger; what will Mike and Kellie do for their 50's? Anything they want.