It’s early on Sunday morning. Early. I’m talking pre-gotta-be-at-church-at-7:30am early. And I’m sipping my coffee and reading the most brilliant chapter of Anne Lamott my eyes have ever seen.
And I look up on the bookshelf and I see Pete Wilson’s “Plan B” sitting there. And the green of the cover perfectly matches the green of the kitchen wall and I imagine myself telling someone about this book: “I know him.”
Wait.
Then the brain stops. And the self-awareness kicks in and says “Really? Are you sure? Because according to reality, you’ve never actually met him.”
To reason with myself (because this is what all sane people do) (right?), I thought through how I’d have to qualify my knowing of him and frame it in the world of social media and all that blah blah. And then I just wondered: Do I know him? According to the world’s standards, could I actually say that?
And the brain continued to inquire: Do I know all these other people that I have contact with through the internet? Or better yet, do they know me?
To the last question, I’d answer yes. I’d say you know me. Not like my mom knows me, or Drew knows me, or the BFF knows me. But, yeah, you know my personality and likes and interests and some of my thoughts. In the self-aware corners of my brain, I know that what I say here is a pretty accurate representation of myself. Sure, it’s not the whole picture, but it’s enough of the picture for you to recognize the in-real-life-me if you ever stumbled upon me in an airport or at a conference. And enough for us to strike up some legit conversation right there on the spot.
At least that’s how I see it.
But how do you see it? How do you see the world of social media interaction and your experience of reading this-here blog?
- Do you know me?
- Do I know you?
