Those of us who post social media stories

Reading Theodore Zeldin has this effect on me.

I recently picked up his "Hidden Pleasures of Life" for no special reason but to feed my mind some food for thought each morning. Otherwise it's mostly doom scrolling on Instagram for 30-40 minutes before getting out of bed. 

The third chapter on "How can people lose their illusions about themselves?" is quite interesting. My brain is still chewing on the notions it puts forward - I haven't even finished reading it fully - ideas based on historical events and the author's own syntheses of it.

One of those ideas was about the passport as an instrument of obstructing the innocent rather than stopping criminals (credited to Napolean III). How true since most countries do not allow you to hold two passports, even if you can easily belong to more than one nation. 

Theo (of course in my mind I call him that) then goes on to dream new purposes for the passport - a document that can convey the truth of oneself to another rather than reveal only the facts deemed important by the establishment. He hopes the book he is writing will act like an open passport document for the reader to peruse, this book which is based on hours of actual conversation with "those who crossed his path"...

"The world is what is revealed when we each say what we see, when we all shine our faint torches on it."

But everyone is not honest, Theo goes on. You must read the book, I can't describe the ideas too well. 

"The hidden thoughts in other people's heads are the great darkness that surrounds us."

These days, however, one could see that people's thoughts are not all hidden anymore. Thanks to social media. Almost all of us are on our apps, sharing with the world our faintest of the faint thoughts, highlighting our intimate moments for strangers to see... thinking twice about if I should really post that cake photo, but doing it anyway. Sigh. 

Those of us who have been using social media are aware of the maxim that we only post the best highlights of our lives, we post to show the world what we are up to. Sort of like telling a virtual partner/s our whereabouts, thereby filling that void that lies inside all of us - the void that we think is filled by other people, soulmate or not. 

We are posting only the good stuff, heavily curating our every post/story - I am guilty of this, too - innocently referring to the act as one of sharing our lives with the world, shining our faint torches on our followers' faces. I would like to believe this, too.

But I wanted to write about the ways in which it is more than just sharing your life with the world. 

• Virtue Signaling - Hi armchair digital activist (I am one, too)
• Singling out Friends You Don't Like (By posting photos of parties you never got invited to)
• Showing Off (the new house, the vacation, that new guitar, the new skill)
• Seeking Validation (You just can't sit quietly by yourself, can you?)
• Trolling Others (Ah, the Passive Aggressive Troller)
• Signaling Success (Influencers Influencing)
• Sharing our "Curated" Taste (That new song only you could ever find, that book only you could ever recommend)
• Filling That Void Inside You (Resharing Relateable Content that You Did Not Create)

Too many ways to shine that faint torch. 

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Lately, I am tired. I am exhausted by others. Not so much by what they do to me or how they treat me;  most always people treat each other well and with respect. But I am tired of people showing too much skin, including myself. I am only beginning to see this life display on social media as a symptom of a larger problem. Well, it would be true to say that I am only beginning to see the problem in myself.

I am only now building a life that is worth living in the present. I am only now beginning to see myself with more love and compassion and a sense of humour. And all this introspection, if one can even call it that, is pushing away the need to be seen by another. 

Nowadays, social media is just a way to glimpse at the other's lives, to check what our friends are up to, or specifically what that boy or girl is up to, and to signal to those who didn't choose me, that I AM OK.

Pathetic little creatures we are. But I don't despise us, still. I don't think I pity us, either. I am only trying to be a witness. To stand there and spectate for the world. Someone's gotta do it.