Un-millennial

I've not yet learned how to do Snapchat, Facebook Live or Instagram Stories. The present is precious. Most times, I feel that the present must be kept private. However, if this is the frontier that we must occupy and push, I'll learn how to share unedited moments and only slightly filtered snippets of my life, as they happen, especially when there is value to sharing them when they do.

Meanwhile, classic introverted tendencies are flaring up, you guys. I cannot yet offer such an open window to my ~world.~ 

It's kind of funny how storytelling has evolved this way. I'm more comfortable with stories that are crafted: messages that take time to make, and take equal time to consume. I still believe in slowness. I'm in love with the tender gleaning that comes with writing and reading. I like the effort it takes to bloom, the energy needed to unfurl or unravel.

It isn't even time as much as it is distance. With these live feeds, our perception of closeness is further contrived. I feel a little overexposed just holding down the record button. It feels a little tight, being framed in the demanding window of the now as onlookers come from everywhere. At once. 

Alas, I'm not always resistant to new things. Maybe it's a symptom of endearment to old habits. Maybe I'm falling behind the millennial race. Maybe, just maybe, this is the price I have to pay for growing up an old soul in rapidly changing days.