Over the past couple of years, I have struggled with the complications, misunderstandings, and altercations that an online presence can manifest into our physical lives. How other people’s issues can seep into our consciousness, and into the reflections of our thoughts.
An example would be my film on depression, So, hopefully without descending into some kind of wallowing sanctimonious essay on the effect that other people can have on us through the pathways of cyberspace – please dear reader afford me this opportunity to say enough is enough. Pause. Let me rewind.
A number of weird things have happened lately, and I am writing this post as an open letter to anyone who knows me, has known me, or takes an interest online in some way or another, because I have felt your negativity. Or perhaps you’re quite fond of me and we still enjoy a valued connection, because that is felt very strongly and consistently too. Any which way, be you affectionate or resentful, if you’re still reading this then I rather doubt that you are indifferent to me, and so it is for you dear reader that I write. Because I have, quite frankly, had enough of the bizarre activity.
Forgiveness, acceptance, and healing is far more urgent than fighting with one another and whipping up trouble, particularly when based on second and third-hand whispers, gossip or presumptions – in this digital age it is unhealthy and confusing for people when things are done in the dark. I urge anyone who has built up an opinion about me or any of my actions, without talking to me directly, to actually speak to me. Wild idea, I know.
What we choose to float out into cyberspace carries an echo into the consciousness of the receiver. Stop fighting, wanting to change people, start listening and understanding and communicating with compassion and lucidity.
The seconds of our lives are running away, and as Arcade Fire sing so very expertly…
“After all the breath, and the dirt, and the fires that burn, and after all this time, and after all the ambulances go. And after all the hangers-on are done. Hanging on to the dead lights of the afterglow. I’ve gotta know. Can we work it out?”