social media perspective Archives

Sometimes I meet Liz – in the city, or on Twitter – to talk about not talking about social media.

“So here’s what I want to know,” I asked one night, “Does talking about not talking about social media count as talking about social media?”

“I think I talk more about the muppets,” she responded.

We decided I’m Cookie Monster. She’s Grover.

I giggled a little as I wrote back, “This is you.” And I linked to this video:

She proudly retweeted. Because this is who we are. And this is what we do.

We go around and around, thinking up ways to change the world by connecting with it. Talking, walking, sometimes getting tired…

I don’t know much about social media.
I know more about cookies.

Since I was a kid I’ve had a delicious talent for intuitively choosing the best cookie in the jar. And as a kid, if you were my friend and I only had one cookie, I’d always give you the bigger half. I like to think that’s the most valuable thing Liz and I have in common. (I mean, who needs tools when you’ve got COOKIES? Ahem.)

Liz knows how to share, how to connect, how to get people through things – how to get to the core of who they are and walk them through the stuff they need to do to get to the places they want to go.

Sometimes she speaks in metaphors. Sometimes she’s like Grover. Sometimes the other kids don’t understand her. But the ones with the best hearts love her, because she’s like them.

Liz once told me, “Every star shines — brilliance is relative.”

I don’t remember why she told me that, except that that’s who she is. Her heart is always golden. Even in the moments I have no idea what she’s talking about, I trust her with all my heart because I know she would never let me fall.

We don’t have to talk about social media to teach social media. But to learn it, we’ve got to live it.

That’s what Liz does. That’s what Liz helps me do.

So when Liz asked me, “While I’m at WordCamp Las Vegas, will you hijack my blog? Maybe you could write five things people don’t know about me, like I wrote 5 Tips about Surviving on the Road with Lorelle that one time?”

…. And my response was….
“Huh? You did what? Who’s Lorelle?”
… “I don’t know five things!”

… I knew I probably know just this one:

I’d rather learn the Muppet Metaphors of Social Media than bang my head against the wall studying the Cruel Calculus of Communicating Online.

I’d rather share cookies with a friend.

What has Liz taught YOU?

Or, um, who’s your favorite muppet and why?

Ever been shiny, golden, glittery — the top of the social media set? Ever had a day go almost perfectly? Ever felt like the sun was shining just for you? Bet it’s happened at least one time. It’s usually something like this . . .

Every conversation is just the right amounts of smart and witty. Every word communicates and moves to action in a nice way. Everyone seems so appealing. Caffeine and chocolate aren’t necessary, but they’re available. Cooperation is the weather all day.

Ideas appear without reaching, like poetry in motion.

Everything anyone touches turns golden. People behave in the most extraordinarily generous fashion. Even that guy you dislike looks to be doing things right.

It’s a symphony. Hmmm. You check that you’ve not fallen asleep laughing.

Life is a breeze, piece of cake, easy as pie. Wishes are horses and beggars are riding.

Except, of course, for the traffic or the slow Internet connection. But who cares about those? Really.

It seems only right to savor a day like that.
Actually, it seems only right to savor every day. I mean really.

Imagine kicking back with the ones who fit this description . . .

. . . our understanding of each other
           had reached that sweet depth
where two people
     communicate more often in silence than in words;
         an affectionate quietness replaces the tensions,
  the unrelaxed chatter and chasing about
  that produce a friendship’s more showy,
       more, in the surface sense,
               dramatic moments.
–Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s

. . . the ones who listen to what we’re not saying.

We don’t need to be shiny.
It’s the dull old bears that we hold onto.
Are you listening?

–ME “Liz” Strauss
Work with Liz!!

Image: sxc.hu

We decided I’m Cookie Monster. She’s Grover.

I don’t know much about social media. I know more about cookies.

We don’t have to talk about social media to teach social media. But to learn it, we’ve got to live it.

What has Liz taught YOU?

I don’t know much about social media.
I know more about cookies.