Flummoxed: “To throw into perplexity….”
Which is definitely my state of mind when I took a peek at social media earlier this week. Which I don’t do very often because I know I will fall into an endless scroll of funny dog videos. Which will be interspersed with political videos. Which will fire up my adrenaline and make me all trembly and upset and send me back to the dog videos to calm myself down but: then there is the interspersing.
I was taking a peek because I’m exploring re-engaging my blogging practice more regularly and I wanted to check out what’s happening out here relative to advice I’ve heard over the years about how often to post, what to post, when to post, search engine optimization, yadda yadda yadda. Some folx say a blog must have a content focus. Others say to just let fly, cuz it’s a consistent voice aka personality that people connect with more than the content.
All of the advice has been aimed at getting the biggest bang (aka exposure!) for the “buck” of time and energy (aka that which is ineffable, irreplaceable and expires at an unknown day and time).
I quickly became flummoxed about the apparent morass that is now social media. I managed to stop scrolling the videos and go to bed four hours after I’d started the peeking and woke feeling hung-over.
And then: I had the great good fortune to speak with an old friend who reminded me that INEFFICIENCY is how community gets built. An hour of conversation directed by the moment’s whim and what is happening with those who are actually in the room together.
A radical idea, to choose to spend our ineffable hours doing something that is not for profit, not for an agenda, not on a to-do list, not SEO-directed, not AI-“improved,” not targeted, not curated. Being a flawed human being in time and space with other flawed human beings, being.
Or, maybe, being in solitude.
My story “Torquere” was published online (how ironic!) in Eclectica this week. I invite you to read it, and all the other fine work in that issue.
More, I hope you step away from your device and go outside, or chop some carrots for a salad, or, perhaps best of all, stare into space and let yourself breathe. Because my god the world is beautiful.
Eugene Oregon, August 2026.
