An abrupt change in my behavior

I've opted out of Facebook briefly on a few occasions, the usual reason being that I simply wanted to see if I could.  This time, it was because of one thing that happened to someone, a thing that bothered me so much it literally made me sick at my stomach and sent me to the doctor.  So day before yesterday I temporarily turned Facebook off and made myself disappear from my four hundred plus "friends".  I didn't give a warning, because people start telling you how they will miss you and it ends up as looking like you're begging for attention.  All the other times I took a facebook vacation, it still had a hold on me and constantly called my name.  

This time is very different.  It was a relief to be in the real world.  I'm a nicer person.  When I'm reading, the book I hold has my full attention.

Yesterday was magical.  Cliff and I went to do some pre-Thanksgiving shopping, starting at Aldi.  He handed me a quarter and I walked to the line of locked-together carts.  I pushed the quarter in the slot, but it wouldn't release the cart.  I struggled with it awhile; a man approached the line beside mine to return his cart, and I asked if I could have his cart, offering my quarter to him.  "Oh, sure," he said.  "But keep your quarter."

I've had folks at Aldi ask me before, as I'm getting out of the car, if I need the empty cart they are returning; and I've had a couple of them tell me to keep my quarter.  But somehow this time, the tiny kindness set off a chain of events that I almost couldn't believe... but maybe it was because my full attention was right there, instead of wondering what somebody meant by some meme they posted on Facebook two days ago.  When I went into the store I saw, ahead of me, a man in a wheelchair with a service dog on a leash beside him and his wife ahead of him.  I noticed how when the wheel chair stopped, so did the dog, a mongrel who had no outstanding quality except the way he moved in tandem with the fellow, living in the present as only a dog can do.  The wife looked serious as she did her shopping; I said to her, "Isn't it wonderful how a dog can be trained to help a human?"

She answered, "Oh yes!  And this was a stray that was afraid of everything and didn't trust anybody before."

I hadn't been in the store long when Cliff decided to come in and join me.  He picked up a can of salmon I'd put in the cart and said, "What's this for?"

"Oh, I thought I'd make salmon patties soon; it's been awhile."  (The truth is, I love salmon patties, but they stink up the house for days!)

"Is that hard?"

I smiled at his complete lack of knowledge about how food is prepared and said, "No, you just crush some crackers, beat an egg, add that and some seasonings and onion, make patties, and fry them."

I realized what he was thinking:  We'd gotten a late start, and I said as we left home, "We are not going to eat out.  If it's time to eat when we get home, I'll just make us a grilled cheese sandwich."

So now I told him we'd have salmon patties instead of grilled  cheese, cook some peas, open the cottage cheese I was going to buy, and have an actual meal.

Cliff loaded our groceries into the trunk and a lady got out of her car nearby; I offered her my cart and she smiled and started to hand me her quarter.  "Oh no," I said, "just take it."

She started to insist, but I said, "A man gave it to me and said keep the quarter, so I want to hand it off to you."

She said, smiling, "Well then, I'll pass it on."

A simple exchange, right?  But if felt good.

Then on to Price Chopper.  When I finished there and was standing in the checkout line, I noticed the cashier looked unhappy as she did her job, hardly looking at the people in front of her.  When it was my turn, I said, "This season is tough for all of you doing this job, isn't it?  Half the people are excited and happy, but the other half of the people are grumpy."

She looked at me in surprise, visibly relaxed a little, and sighed out the words "Oh, yes!"  

I think she was just relieved that someone knew her job wasn't always easy.  

Then I paid her, told her happy Thanksgiving, and she smiled.

If you only knew how I've shopped in my little bubble for years, not looking anybody in the eye and hoping nobody looked at me... good grief, what has happened to me?  I laughed later, telling Cliff about all this.  "I think I've become an ambassador of good will today!"

I won't tell you how many people responded to my "happy Thanksgiving" greetings throughout all this.

What does this have to do with Facebook?  Simply this:  I was living in the present, rather than thinking about what I might be missing on Facebook.  And honestly, it was such a transforming experience, I may get off Facebook permanently.  This is a thought that would never have entered my mind before.  

I'm a 75-year-old woman, but when there's a family gathering and everyone else is playing on the phone, I give up and join them on my iPad or phone, because there's nobody to talk to anyhow.  Usually, we are all on Facebook.  I've met so many wonderful folks on the Internet that I'll never interact with again if I make this drastic change; that's the only thing that makes it a difficult decision.  Will I get sucked back in if I try to limit my Facebook time?  Does it have to be all or nothing?  

I stopped carrying a phone or iPad to bed with me a long time ago, and I stopped looking at the phone when we are in a restaurant.  I believe from now on, when everybody around me is playing around with a device of any kind, I'll just go in another room and do something else, or maybe start reading a book.  Of course, I read my books on an iPad, and I don't think that would be much of a change.  

I'll let you know how it all turns out.