Ever had the experience of something in the world of the web referencing, and then enlightening, something in your real world? Happened to me the other day when I received this prompt: If the link above does not appear clickable, or does not open a browser window when you click it, copy it and paste it into your web browser’s location bar.
Clickable. My latest example of the Web launching a 20th century word (click) into the 21st, giving it a specific meaning (the word now serves as an electronic/linguistic portkey from one web page to another), and in so doing opens up an entire arena for rumination on social relationships. At least for yours truly. Think, “She friended me.” Or, “I got unfriended” by my kid. Which takes me back to clickable.
Consider the clickable entities in your life. Spouse, friends, job. When we say we “click” with a certain person or activity, what we are saying is that being with them has opened up a whole new world of experience. When something clicks, there is a definite before and after. In the time it takes to snap your fingers (also called ‘clicking your fingers’ I have learned by how else? clicking a few links), something shifts: you have a new friend, the first shimmerings of a love interest, even a great new sweater to wear with that skirt you bought that you don’t know what to do with.
Might the measure of our days, perhaps our lives even, be viewed by how suffused they are with clickable moments, people, and activities? We rely on our inner voice, that feeling in our gut that tells us whether or not something clicks. The more of these moments we have, the more we create around ourselves a web of support, a richness of experiences.
There’s magic in the air when we recognize we’ve clicked with someone or something. We experience a quick intake of breath, a flash of anticipation, a smile of wonder. The more I think about it, the more apt the metaphor of a portkey to describe that which is clickable. And you? What’s in your life is clickable of late?
Some time between last night when I uploaded this post, and this morning, we crossed the 25,000 mark! This teeny dot of a planet on the web has been visited by 25,016 readers. I am darn proud and grateful to all of you who keep me going, who welcome the peregrinations of my thoughts and take the time share your own. Enjoy the day and thank you again for making this site one of your waystations on the web.
Congratulations on your 25,000 mark, Debra. As I grow in my faith, I realize it’s what I do in the world around me that matters. You are making a difference in this global world with your delicious words and deep, crusty thoughts. I’m glad I found your dogwood story and can enjoy your artist’s touch on a regular basis!
“Clickable” is not as bad as “Friending”. In the latter case there is strong probability that you are already friends making this even more curious. In the end it is an older modern technology that solves both for me, the Delete Key! Congratulations on 25K. Oops, “25K” (Hit Delete)
That “click” is exactly what’s happening in the snapshot I have of you and me the summer you came home to the US. Everybody was tiptoeing around because I had just lost my first pregnancy but the family went to the park (don’t know which park) and I carried you around and posed for Jack’s camera. The camera clicked and so did you and I. Love and kisses, Aunt Judy
Southern Belle! Thank you thank you for your generous words. I am so glad that you come and visit and “set a spell.”
Gary — I agree, friending is worse. Much worse.
Friendship on the other hand, priceless.
Aunt Judy — Bless you! I have a series of those photos, too and wish I could figure out how to post one right here to share. There is one where I am grasping your index fingers with my chubby fists and smiling at you. Your face, in profile, is smiling. Maybe I’ll put it back up in the blog with a note……
I’m new to your site, but will be a frequent now. I found you by your May 2009 Good Housekeeping article. Yes, my doctor really needs to update the waiting room rack. I don’t know if you remember. It was about growing up in opposite places and your daughters dogwoods. Its the opposite with my daughter and me. I was raised in northwestern Illinois and am raising her in Tennessee. We love our dogwoods, honeysuckle, and Magnolias! It was refreshing to read your article. Thank you. I’m looking forward to reading more.