Today is Ash Wednesday. This you can deduce from the people walking up and down the avenues all smudged on their foreheads looking Lynette Fromme-ey (it's a mark of contrition, not a show of Manson Family solidarity, Folks). It is the day that many Western Christians begin the the great fast of Lent. Lent is a time of abstinence, a period of reflection, a season of meditation on our need for a savior. It's when we are called to recall that we are all but ash, and it is to the ashes that we shall return.
If the thought of that bums you out, then remember: it's supposed to.
Many practicing Christians make sacrifices during Lent. The sacrifice is intended to leave a hole, a vacuum that you are then supposed to invite the holy awe of God and all His mercies to enter into. Some people give up a favorite food-- chocolate, meat, sweets of all kinds, liquor. Other Christians give up habits. One Lent I made it a priority to refrain from backbiting. That was hard to do, and I'm not even all that much of a snarly bitch. Sometimes, it's not a tangible that is given up, but rather a practice that is taken on-- daily prayer, charity work, eucharistic devotion.
This year, I am giving up something for Lent that I'd be embarrassed to tell you about, if I didn't know that many of you did it already TOO.
Kids, I'm giving up Self-Googling.
If I told you how often I did it, I'd be more mockable than I already is. Like many other unnatural tics and online habits, the Googling of the Self had its genesis in curiosity. It began in the immutable innocence of Hmm let me see if anyone's saying anything about my X, my Y, or my Z.
But my tendencies, in general, veer towards the compulsive. This many of you may have gathered from knowing me socially. But when she gets behind closed doors, and she lets her hair hang down, she turns into a nervous scarab of twitches and clickity-clicks, continually checking up on texts and hyper-texts and hyperly texting. It's not just the ego surfing, it's the randomly vapid refreshing of the email, the mad-cap capers of Facebook status-making, the moot perusal of news I have already read a hundred times this morning. No more is it simple narcissism. Narcissism I can handle-- we're writers, dammit, we have to be a little full of ourselves. The problem is one of time wasting. I don't have time anymore to waste.
So here it goes. I place a veil, a caul before my own googledy eyes. Pray for me.
Also, I'm giving up sugar and candies. If you will-- I'm giving up Lindt for Lent.
