Whenever I bemoan the lack of time I have to do everything I want to do in a day, my husband helpfully reminds me how much time I ‘waste’ on Facebook and I wonder again if I should come off it, even if only temporarily?
Unlike many in my age group, I signed up to Facebook in those early days when, as a mature student, FB was adopted by university students en masse and the concept intrigued me. Gradually many of those young ‘friends’ have dropped off – as virtual friends at least – to be replaced by people I actually know and am friends with ‘in real life’.
I would agree that there are times when the site frustrates me – I don’t need a blow-by-blow account of your cat’s latest illness, or hourly updates on your husband’s recovery from an ingrowing toenail operation. However, with friends and family scattered across all corners of the world and spanning several generations, Facebook is a brilliant way to keep people in my life who would otherwise disappear off the radar, as well as sharing and receiving information at a local and international level. It provides a continuity and sense of community that might otherwise be missing in my life.
Where else could I:
- Support a campaign to stop Dubai (or Abu Dhabi?) opening a SeaWorld;
- Read Ricky Gervais’s pithy and poignant comments on animal cruelty;
- Follow the plight of Nepal as the international struggles to provide support;
- Share the adventures of my globe-trotting sister;
- Enjoy the incredible wit and humour behind some cartoons and jokes shared by friends;
- Connect with friends around the world who speak different languages and share items globally at the touch of a button?
Yes, there are days when I think I really shouldn’t spend so much time on FB and times when I vow to return to keeping a book of Crossword puzzles next to the kettle to entertain me in the couple of minutes whilst waiting for it to boil and not immediately reach for Facebook on my iPad. But, on balance, I think FB is more friend than foe and enriches rather than impoverishes my life and so, while ever that equilibrium is maintained Facebook has a place in my life. Hubby be darned!
Feeling rather restless and rootless at the moment I am constantly reminding myself to:
- live in the moment,
- be present,
- accept the present/intend the future
- this moment is as it should be because the whole universe is as it should be
I eat well, meditate daily, walk in the countryside, rest, have fun and generally love life. But. I find living ‘in between’ incredibly difficult. My brain is screaming to get stuck into projects, communities, things, things, something to keep it active and busy. I panic that life is passing me by and I’m not achieving anything, not fulfilling my purpose, wasting precious time.
And then I take a deep breath, slow down that monkey mind chattering away and remember that my life, right now, is filled with blessings, love, discoveries, good health, friendships and all the things that make it so magically wonderful. So what’s the problem then? I think that it’s the void. We have been living in Cardiff for four and a half months and really love it here (partly because we know we’re leaving soon?). It’s a fabulous City, great culture, architecture, people, scenery and so many things to do and keep us occupied that we’ve barely scratched the surface. But it isn’t home. We came here because it’s the city of my birth and I wanted to be closer to my parents for a while. And I’m loving spending time with them and with the City and all it has to offer. A lot of time though is spent planning and preparing for our move to Spain at the end of January so my heart is only ever half here and the other half across the water.
There is something to be said for that feeling of discomfort and ‘being’ in the void as I’m convinced that that is where the magic happens – where creativity can bubble up to the surface and be heard. It’s like the analogy of dropping a pebble into a raging sea and it having no impact whatsoever, whereas the same pebble dropped into a calm lake sends ripples far and wide. Today then I will enjoy the calm lake and drop pebbles of creativity into it and see what happens!
I don’t know why, it’s not as if the inhabitants are little people or anything, but this dwelling always reminds me of The Borrowers. Just before moving to Vietnam we watched a new BBC One dramatisation of Mary Norton‘s classic novel so maybe that’s why it’s near the front of my mind. Like many children I absolutely loved the idea that there might be little people living in our midst who ‘borrow’ all those things that go missing!
However, this picture is in some ways perhaps rather sad – this motley collection of cast offs and leftovers is someone’s home. From what I can gather a family of 6 live here, including two young children, but that could be more because Vietnamese families prefer to live all together and I often see an elderly woman emerging from the front door too.
Like many thousands of Vietnamese people, this family make their living from collecting, sorting and I guess selling on somehow, other people’s rubbish. Their house happens to be on a piece of wasteland where I walk Sally sometimes so the family now recognise me and wave or say Xin Chao (hello). The children – under 6 years of age – are both fascinated by and terrified of Sally but they do seem to enjoy watching her frolicking around off lead and throwing/catching various bits of ‘treasure’ like an empty drink bottle.
Not usually one for facts and figures I can tell you that the minimum wage here is (supposedly) 2 million Vietnamese Dong (Vnd) per month – roughly £60 and very roughly £2 a day. Sure many things are very cheap here but even so, that is not a lot of money. A paper collector can earn 3 million a month while a surgeon will earn 30 million (an amount that only 2% of the population generate).
The observant amongst my readers will have noticed that there are a) not a lot of photos and b) none showing people. It’s not that I’m not interested in people, quite the opposite in fact, I’m only really interested in people. It’s because I have an absolute horror/dread/fear of taking someone’s photo without asking them first. Yes I have some hang ups about having my own photo taken and yes it stems from my childhood and yes Dad, I forgive you honest I do! There are some stunningly beautiful, tender interactions between people here where the lines between public and private are very blurred.
Many people live out their lives on the streets, in public and the opportunity to observe or bear witness to all of life’s interactons is all around you. When my hubby walks Sally last thing at night he never ceases to tell me how many of the cars and motobrikes were ‘rocking’ on the waste ground which doubles as a spot for young lovers under cover of darkness. (Isn’t that illegal in the UK by the way?!)
Maybe one day I’ll pluck up the courage to ask The Borrowers if I can take their picture outside their home but then how could I explain that I don’t want the picture to gloat or show the world how dreadful it is here – but to show you how happy they seem, the level of teamwork displayed with every single family member pulling their weight and mucking in and how ingenious is their house which withstands the truly awful weather in Hanoi. I couldn’t explain it and have them understand and I don’t want to steal from them so I’ll have to try to capture them in my mind and the occasional furtive picture and hope that that’s okay with them.