For years now, my Facebook status has been barren. And I liked its clean, crisp aloofness. Periodically I would visit my page to scan a few updates from frequenters; then I would scoot out of there as quickly as I could.
I’ve finally pinpointed my aversion (some of it, at least): Facebook is too cluttered for my minimalist tastes. I prefer plenty of white space—as graphic designers call it when there is important empty space included in the design of a piece. Facebook has a whole lot going on graphically. It makes my head hurt because my eyes don’t know where to look first.
I think Facebook needs more purposeful empty space to balance out all the bells and whistles and flashing lights plastered about. This isn’t likely to happen, but naming my disdain has helped me in my 12-step program toward peace with the social networking hub.
With this newfound understanding, I felt a bit more courageous and able to test the waters over at the Facebook Pool. I’m so grateful I didn’t have to go alone: My dear friend Angel was there for support. We walked to the edge and looked out over my unblemished Facebook status in all its pristine glory. Angel listened to my silly ramblings about clutter and my equally silly worries about succumbing to the banality of this age.
With all that done, Angel grabbed my hand and helped me jump into the Facebook Pool. As I typed my first letters into the status bar, it linked automatically to my blog. It even linked to the post image, which I thought was a nifty unexpected extra. As I submitted it, my first status update sent ripples through cyberspace . . . well, sort of—Angel and my sister said they Liked my update comment, and that makes me happy enough.
My status update is no longer crisp and clean and white. But it is full of words that are meaningful to me and to a few other special gals. I’m thinking of the status update bar as a kiddie pool with just enough room for me a handful words.
Jumping into the Facebook Pool wasn’t so awful after all.