Your words are hands,
molding the shape of the world.
Whether your fingertips round the edges
into a smooth “I’m proud of you,”
Or your nails leave a sharp
“You disappoint me” seared into one’s memory,
The power is in your hands.
With every word,
you leave your mark.
I never would have thought an email from a college Teaching Assistant (TA) would stick with me for nearly a decade. But one has, and remains memorable to this day.
Nine Easters ago, in 2008, I was in the second semester of my freshman year at UW-Madison. College was a huge breath of fresh air after some difficult teen years coming out as an atheist to my very Catholic family.
I was grateful to join the campus’s student organization AHA (Atheists, Humanists, and Agnostics) and to finally have Sunday mornings free. Little by little I became more okay with talking about my lack of belief with certain others.
One of the places I felt safe to share my beliefs was in my Spanish 203 class, taught by TA Elizabeth Walz. For one composition assignment, I chose to write about discrimination against atheists in the United States and how it affected me personally.
In the simple sentences I could form at that point, I wrote in Spanish that it had been about three years since I began self-identifying as an atheist, and that it had been hard to come out to my family. “I don’t tell many people I’m an atheist because I don’t want them to judge me before they know me,” I wrote, “but it doesn’t feel good to keep it a secret.”
While we were on spring break, Elizabeth forwarded an optional survey to our class, which would help a grad student conduct research about motivations for learning languages. I submitted my answers—why not?
She wrote back and thanked me for having participated in the survey.
The email could have easily ended right there, confirming she’d received my survey, but she went on. In a second paragraph, Elizabeth let me know that she was there if I ever wanted to talk about anything. She hoped that celebrating Easter with my family hadn’t been too uncomfortable, but based on my composition, it probably hadn’t been the easiest of weekends for me.
She closed with a friendly reminder:
Acuérdate de que tienes apoyo moral también en la universidad, ¿vale?
(Remember that you have moral support in the university as well, okay?)
I was so touched.
I stared at the screen and then read the email again.
Here I was, just a tiny freshman in a campus of 40,000 students, and yet here was my TA—who had her own grad classes, lesson planning, grading, and an incredibly intense M.A.-Ph.D. Qualifying Examination to worry about, not to mention her personal life—stopping to think about me on this weekend, asking was I okay?
I remember feeling a little guilty, actually, because Easter with my family hadn’t been notably difficult, and I thought there was likely someone more deserving of such concern.
But the message which reached me clearly is that I was not alone. I had support here at the university, people who cared about my well-being and feelings, starting with my Spanish TA. It was also the first time Spanish words had a very real impact on me, which made the email even more striking.
This compassionate act cannot be measured or quantified, but rather appreciated and paid forward.
I still have this email, and it’s the only one I ever received at my wisc.edu address to hold such significance. It reminds me to be the Elizabeth in other people’s lives—to let others know they’re not alone. Because a thoughtful email? It can change everything.
So today, take a minute to consider: Who could you lift up? Send a short note of support or encouragement—to a friend, an organization you support, a stranger on Twitter, the atheist freshman in your Spanish 203 class.
That quick email might be one your recipient holds on to for years and years to come.
Your words matter, and you can use them to make a difference today.
This post is also published on Medium.
Note: This is what felt true to Rebecca v.2017. In time, it will be replaced with something more fitting to Rebecca v.2022. People and energies are fluid; website pages are static.
I write here on my blog and occasionally on Medium. Here are my rules to writing in these spaces:
I will not jam content into a numbered list. There will not be forced numbers in my titles, jazzed up with irresistible adjectives which stretch the truth (or blatantly lie) to get you to click. I don’t want you to click; I want you to connect, grow, and feel human.
I will not suggest quotes for you to tweet. You especially don’t need a “Click to tweet” or “Tweet this” link. You can read for yourself and see which words—if any—resonate with you. If words propel you to share them, you’ll share them.
I will not disrupt your reading with pop-ups. They’re obnoxious no matter the content. You have enough noise in this world shouting for your attention. I want you to have more spaces for uninterrupted reflection.
I will not ask for a heart or a share at the end of my posts. That feels like holding up an applause sign to an audience that clearly knows how and when to clap. You know how this works. Once again, if you want to share it, you’ll share it. I write to express myself, and I publish that writing online for the chance to make a tangible impact in people’s lives—no matter the size.
I will not offer free downloads in exchange for an email address, and then subscribe you to an email list you never wanted to be on! If I want to give you a free PDF, I’ll give you a free PDF, no strings attached. Your inbox is probably already taking your attention away from where it’s needed most. You know, like on relationships and self-care—those are important. (I highly recommend the free Unroll.me, by the way, to easily take charge of your email subscriptions.)
I will bring my humanity into my writing. I will be as honest and vulnerable as possible, showing you my behind-the-scenes and struggles, the highs and the lows.
I will experiment and fearlessly explore creativity. This is my space to play around!
I will add more kindness and love to the world. I will mindfully use my words to lift others up, to encourage self-expression, and to create ripples of kindness. As follows, I will comment on blog posts that I read.
I will proofread and be grateful for anyone who lets me know about typos. When I take the time to let someone else know about a typo, it’s because I value their work and want it to shine even brighter.
I will measure my success by how closely I align with my values. This also means I’ll pay close attention to how much I’m growing/learning—and I’ll gladly learn in public.
These are my current guidelines because they feel most authentic to me. What feels honest to you? Do what feels right!
I left Facebook exactly two years ago: December 1, 2014.
A month and a half later, I wrote about my reasons for leaving on Culture Glaze. And several months after that, I began the Facebook-free interview project on the blog to feature other people who have also left Facebook.
So what does it feel like now?
Honestly, it feels fantastic.
I don’t want to imagine what my life would look like today if Facebook were still a part of it. You see, the on-the-surface difference between then and now is that I have removed Facebook from my life. I don’t think about it; it doesn’t have a place in my days.
Underneath the surface, my mind has all this space for thoughts, creativity, and reflections. It’s clearer, more focused, and relaxed — reminiscent of how I felt when I walked the Camino. My mind is not bombarded with thoughts of others, of companies, or of news outlets vying for my attention.
I recognize that I have control over what I see and think, and I’m so much more mindful of these choices. I choose where my energy goes.
For me, it all comes back to this quote by Gandhi, which struck me when I first heard it years ago, and which I return to again and again:
Your beliefs become your thoughts,
Your thoughts become your words,
Your words become your actions,
Your actions become your habits,
Your habits become your values,
Your values become your destiny.
So I ask: Where do your beliefs come from? What sorts of things/people are impacting your thoughts each day?
Are you setting yourself up for the beliefs → thoughts → words → actions → habits → and values that will create the destiny you want?
We only have one life. It’s now.
And in my Facebookless life now, I’m not looking at highlight reels of other peoples’ lives, and thus I don’t experience the fear of missing out or the damaging feelings of comparing myself to others’ best sides.
Rather, I’ve been experiencing what it means to be human, and am seeing again and again that we absolutely cannot compare ourselves to others in the ways we often do. Life is so incredibly complex and intricate. Our situations and histories are unimaginably unique, and most of the stories we tell ourselves are inaccurate and incomplete.
One sentence, paragraph, website, or blog absolutely cannot define a person. There is so much more going on behind the scenes.
I’m a writer who values the written word. Yet despite my snail mailing, blogging, and texting, my primary mode of connecting during these past two years has been face to face. Nothing can replace the tone and emotion in someone’s voice or a friend’s laughter. Likewise, nothing can replace a smile, a grimace, a wink, an eye-roll, or any other facial expression and body language.
I find these in-person interactions much kinder, meaningful, productive, and connective. (It’s no wonder research has found door-to-door canvassing an effective way to open minds to other points of view.)
Ninety-nine percent of the time when I’m alone with my computer or phone, nothing much changes. The internet has amazing reach and capabilities, but…
But when I’m in a setting with other humans — wow. That’s where the magic happens! That’s where real possibilities arise, where new ideas are born, where laughs and stories are shared, where nerves can heighten, where lifelong connections form, where energy is felt, and where your actions can really brighten days.
I’m learning more and more how special and valuable these shared moments are.
I can also appreciate moments in silence. I don’t have to grab for a phone to scroll while waiting. I practice staying present in the moment and appreciating the small things.
This is life, after all. These small moments make up the majority of our existence. It’s now. It’s this. So I’m striving to be there. To be here, to be present. To catch myself thinking about small worries and to replace those thoughts with appreciation for the humanity, creations, or nature around me. To consider what emotions others might be feeling. To act out of kindness, compassion, and understanding.
Meditation is helping me to cultivate this. (Thanks Daily Calm!) It’s nothing far-fetched, out of reach, or sacred. Meditation involves being in the moment. Being non-judgmentally aware of what’s going on in your mind.
And yet that simple practice is so powerful. Sitting and feeling the breath go in and out of your lungs is insane! I’m telling you. But we breathe all day long. We have breathed all day and all night since the day we were born, but when is the last time you took two minutes to stop and listen to it? To focus on the feeling of the air going in, and how it magically, smoothly transitions to an exhale. Breathe now and pay attention to the fleeting moment where inhale becomes exhale. Neat, huh?
And this all just happens. Now think of all the other organs hard at work inside your body. You don’t have to tell them to do anything, they know what to do to keep you alive. Do you keep these organs healthy? Do you treat them with love and kindness?
You see, these are the types of thoughts that have since entered my mind. It’s awesome.
So to sum it up — because I’m getting away from myself here — I’m happier because there’s little to no comparing (and when I catch myself doing so, I tell myself there’s much more to the story, I can’t compare. And then leave the site and get outta there!) I’m cultivating the beliefs and thoughts I want to have in order to live my values. I’m recognizing how meaningful in-person interactions are for me. Not to mention my data and personal information is no longer being sold and used to make profit for Facebook.
I cut out one thing to get much, much more.
Less is more.
If you know me in real life, this goes without saying, but it’s the internet, so: Nearly all of my friends and family have Facebook. This piece is a reflection on what I’ve personally gained since leaving Facebook, nothing more. Thanks for reading my words in this context of its intended self-reflection.