Like? What do you mean, like?

Or the mysteries of an illusionary life

Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash

Dear Readers,

How are you all doing? I know very little about you, those who follow me, click the little green button, and those who like me, send me little red hearts or yellow thumbs up.

I am thinking about you today, all one hundred and seventy-seven of you, and wonder.

Why do you follow me? I imagine this long line of people holding onto my train (because, of course, I am a Queen, I have followers after all).

What do you look like? Are you funny, clever and witty? You must be because you Follow me and I am all of the above. Aren’t I?

All the words jumbled in my head, and I smiled.

Look, Mummy, I have Followers!

Who is Mummy? I mean, I used to have one once upon a time but she is long gone. Why do I still invoke her? Because I am a good girl, spreading my message to my Followers.

Aren’t I clever!

And you like me too! On other platforms, you send me little hearts, yellow bubbly things that mean you are hugging me, little thumbs up waving me on.

The other day, I put out a Beltane event that I am running with a friend and there was a veritable forest of little hearts! It was marvellous, we felt so validated, so cheered, so seen.

No one has booked.

The stats also tell me that only about 40% of you even open my Stacks. How many read them?

There are four or five of you who actually comment. You matter a lot to me. I imagine you more as friends, you have substance and opinions.

You are “you” not “them”.

So why follow? Why like?

The more followers, I have read somewhere, the more will follow you back. What does that mean? That I will become famous? A great world thinker with an army of silent people behind me?

Do you even exist?

I only follow a few on this platform, people whose writing I love, people I personally know like Caitlin Matthews and Charles Eisenstein.

In this illusionary world, it is difficult not to be caught up in the delusion of being loved by hundreds of people. Not to greedily count the new Followers as if they were banknotes.

I could get trapped here, you know, waiting for you to click on that button. Checking my emails endlessly.

These musings have made me look at my own liking and following practices. I now make sure that I comment on my likes as in “I love this post of yours, it made me think of…” or “This is a great photo, where do you live?” or “I like your stuff, could we talk?”

Could we talk? Now then, would it not be wonderful if we could talk? I long to talk to you all, find out more about you, and get to know you so that you can get to know me.

I hope this post does not sound ungrateful or upset any of you, because, of course, I do not want to lose you. A Queen without followers is surely no longer a Queen. Is that why I write then, so I can gather more of you?

I guess it is. I write because I want to be read.

You will know that I am writing a novel if you read my stuff. I have finished the first draft and have started the revision process. I read somewhere that we write the first draft for ourselves and the revision is for our readers. I found that profound.

As I write these words on this miraculously sunny morning, thinking about what to plant in the kitchen garden, I ask you, my lovely likers and followers.

Why did you click on that Follow button? What does it mean for you?

When you Like do you mean you are coming? Or that you want to come, and participate in my work?

Or, perhaps, what are you planting in your kitchen garden?

Until we meet again,