Tag: musing Page 3 of 4

I posted this this morning to a newsgroup that I read, but as I look over it, I realize that it’s applicable to all online communities, really, and thought it might be something worth putting here too. I’ve been a member of (and a builder of) many online communities in the 15 years that I’ve been on the Net, and these are some things that came out of my observations from those experiences.

Newsgroups are more than just asyncronous message boards. They become, ultimately, communities. And like all communities, they develop cultures.

Social newsgroups especially do this, but newsgroups that are primarily for information swapping do it as well. comp.lang.perl has a very distinct culture, as an example.

The other thing that communities do is develop a shared history. People who have lived in and been active in the community share experiences with one another, and this builds bonds between them.

And sure, this *can* be intimidating to the New Kid In Town. Here’s a group of people who have laughed together, cried together, shared each others pain, rejoiced in each others small daily triumphs. That creates a group of people who are, in many ways, fiercely loyal to one another. In the best of worlds, it becomes a kind of family. A noisy, sometimes disfunctional family that squabbles amongst itself as often as not. But a family, none the less.

You can’t just come and take what you need from here. You can’t demand to be a part of this. There’s a contract, unspoken, yet as binding as any blood oath. There’s a price for sharing this warmth.

That doesn’t mean that you can’t become a part of this community. Come, learn its ways, observe the paths we walk. See the simple love that grows between people just because they choose to share a piece of their life with others. You can be a part of this. It’s a simple choice. A choice, right now, between fear and love.

Come and join it. Give a bit of yourself to the group, unselfishly, unafraid. What you give to the group will be returned to you, and more.

It’s your choice.

When I do something for someone, it’s because I want to. Not because I expect anything in return, for myself or anyone else, other than the satisfaction of helping where I can.

For the record.

Two traveling monks reached a river where they met a young woman. Wary of the current, she asked if they could carry her across. One of the monks hesitated, but the other quickly picked her up onto his shoulders, transported her across the water, and put her down on the other bank. She thanked him and departed.

“Brother,” the second monk replied, “I set her down on the other side, while you are still carrying her.”

kitanzi and I had some fascinating discussions last night about fears and emotional triggers and learning from the past. And while she’s right that one must hold dear the lessons one learns from one’s experience, it’s also important to let go of the weight those experiences brought upon you in their time.

I left school and moved to Georgia when I was 19 years old, for reasons that at that time seemed important to me. I quickly found myself trying to hold together a household with all the financial burdens that entailed, and supporting another person who seemed to grow less and less enchanted in me, and less and less interested in the life I thought we’d lead together. Many of the things that I thought I would do as my 20s unfolded were never realized. I missed the opportunity to travel, to meet and experience new people, to explore myself, because I had voluntarily delivered myself into this service, and because of the fears and emotional triggers that are a fundamental part of what makes me me, I could not easily walk away from it. It took turning 30 and vowing not to waste another decade of my life as I’d wasted the one before to finally start seeking a path out, and another eighteen months before I’d finally realize that escape.

This is history. One the one hand, it’s no more relevant to my life today than the Hundred Years War is. On the other hand, these are the experiences that shaped me, and which shape my needs and desires.

It’s time to let go of the resentment and regret of those lost years. This is, of course, easy to say and harder to do. I cannot change the choices I made–in fact, I would not change those choices if there was any chance whatsoever that I would not end up where I am today. And if I spend my 30s trying to capture the lost opportunities of my 20s, all I end up doing is missing my 30s, and won’t find myself in any better position at 40 than I am today. Yesterday is for reflection, tomorrow is for hopes. Today is for living.

If the life I led was the one I had to lead to find myself where I am today, then it was all worth it, and all the what-might-have-beens are merely pleasant diversions to contemplate in an idle moment.

I’ve carried her across the river long enough. It’s time to put her down.

Because life is good. And I’m happy.

I’m going to try not to get off on too much of a rant here, but this is my journal, and I’ve been rolling this over in my mind for the last little while, and felt like saying it somewhere, so here it is. Feel free to skip on to something further down your friends page, which will have some holiday cheer and maybe some pictures of kittens or something, I don’t know.

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Everyone else is talking about it. Why not be a lemming.

Something about today disturbs me. I think I even know what it is. It’s the sensationalism masquerading as remembrance. It’s the jingoism masquerading as patriotism. It’s the superficial masquerading as the solemn.

I don’t have a problem with remembering the terrible human tragedy that occurred a year ago today. I think it would do us all good to pause and reflect on how terrible events can bring us together, and to remember what we learned, as a nation, as a community, as a people, about the world.

But I also think we should spend more time looking forward, not looking back.

We should spend more time making grand plans and executing them, inviting our souls and being creative, and living life to the fullest.

We should spend more time doing small, special things for our friends, our family, our loved ones.

We should spend more time laughing, and making music, and increasing the joy in the people around us.

We should spend more time helping each other, and holding each other, and saying “I love you” to each other.

Because at the end of the day, each other is all we ever really have.