Stop Tweeting, Start Writing

I love Twitter. I love the community of it, I love the fact that it’s about what you produce, rather than what you consume. I think it’s approximately 250% better than Facebook. I love it because it’s tough to fake it. Gone are the ambiguously angular MySpace mirror shots, and thank God you can’t Photoshop your Tweets. It’s content driven, it’s value driven.

But the best part of Twitter (or even blogs) is also the most dangerous. The accessibility, relative freedom and community built into Twitter and blogging platforms generates a brilliant and supportive network of acquaintances who can be instantly communicated with. And, because you’re limited to 140 characters, it’s pretty instant for the reader too. Our thoughts (our hearts) are folded into the fetal position and crammed into the trunk of a speeding Buick – Soprano style, and it’s awesome.

But I think the gratification we get from posting something we’re particularly proud of and instantly sharing it with our network can, if left unchecked, set unreasonable expectations for our art.

To an (arguably) lesser extent, Blogs are the same way. You write, I read. I comment and we’re all made happy because:

1) You got to write. (labor)

 2) I got to read.  (release)

3) I responded. (engagement)

 4) You were made aware of the impact of your writing.  (gratification)

Writing everyday this month has been one of the best things I’ve ever done (no hyperbole). And some of the conversations I’ve been involved in are absolutely invaluable. I’m truly, completely honored that, given the thousands (millions) of better blogs out there, you chose to stop by and read these words. Seriously, thank you.

So please understand, I’m a HUGE fan of Twitter and blogs. I find profound value in reading and participating in each community.

I read tweets all day from my brilliant friends. Honestly, there’s BOOKS in there. There’s films, screenplays, inventions, theological proofs. There’s enterprises and businesses and messages and sermons packed neatly into a hasty catharsis, and released into the wild. Literally, I have friends who can stuff more meaning into 140 characters than I could into 140 pages.  I’m lucky to know some radiant people. It’s heartbreaking to see us chisel a thought into a masterpiece only to release only it to the raised-eyebrows of impressed friends.

Community support is good, so good. And I’m not saying that we shouldn’t keep encouraging each other – we should. I’m not going to stop.

But what I’m scared of is leaving it there. What if the poem never gets written? The business never started? The dream never taken?  The life never lived. The danger is in allowing pithy pontification and a few labored lines to serve as a substitute for real transformative action.  Real, substantial healing.

What I’m not asking you to do is stop tweeting, I’m asking you to start writing.

I’m saying we should stop talking. I’m saying we should start living.