Unplugged

This has been an odd but immensely pleasurable week: I've unplugged from social media in my personal life just as I've plugged in as part of a musical ensemble in my professional one.

Why the retreat from Facebook and Twitter? One reason is that I have found it overwhelming to keep up with the constant stream of posts and links that scrolls past me on both platforms. I have realized in just four days away that I will need to rethink my online presence upon my eventual return, and reconsider the way in which I interact. I have many close friends who live both near and far on social media, people I care about deeply and I will sorely miss them during my sabbatical. They are not the reason I am taking a break: the long Canadian winter seems to have made grumbling complainers of too many of us, and the never-ending cycle of moping and grousing along with a barrage of memes have ceased to entertain me as the cold season has dragged. The dearth of Olympic posts put the final nail in my social media coffin, to the point where I just wanted to hide under the covers and never see another comment about the Canadian hockey team ever again. I'd make an exception for the bearded bobsledders, but the rest was just overkill by the time the games were over, games you will recall I was not watching to begin with.

The other big project I've sworn to get back to is finishing the final novel in my four-part Behind Blue Eyes rock novel series: originally due out in August 2013, I am now aiming for a release date of August 2014. Can I be cheeky and claim a typo in the announcement at the end of book three? In any case, I hope to be deeply into completing the remaining two chapters before diving into endless edits from now until July, and this demands a certain discipline and willingness to be a little less 'social' online.

And so, with the need to regroup mentally and get back to work, I've latched on to a childhood custom long since abandoned and invoked my own personal, non-religious Lent period.


This decision has coincided with another annual tradition at school: we have just completed a week-long drumming workshop with the remarkable Rodrigo Chavez, a percussionist and guitar player with the Latin band Cassava. He is also an extraordinary teacher: the grade 5 and 6 students lit up as soon as the conga and bass drums arrived in the classroom on Monday morning, and armed with maracas, shakers, cowbells (smaller cha cha bells, and larger mambo bells, to be more precise), agogos, guiros, the children quickly learned how to play rhythms of Latin America and the Caribbean. We have, with our advanced and beginner groups this week, performed calypso, samba, salsa, cumbia, merengue, soca, and cha-cha numbers, all of which will be presented to a small audience of parents tomorrow afternoon as a final celebration of the experience.

Being part of a musical ensemble can be the opposite of being online, in a sense. Rather than being alone in front of your computer, looking at and commenting on words and photos that might be far away geographically, you are physically surrounded by peers that you must look at, listen to, and sense. Observation and interaction are essential, and the connection between the playing musicians is an incredible bond that is not easy to describe but which feels rich, meaningful, and intimate. There are smiles, nods, and a sense of great joy as you build a piece of music from its messy, uneven origins to a tight, cohesive sound.  While I can personally attest over and over to the fact that you can develop a close bond with someone online, the immediate interdependency of playing live music together is something unique and akin to belonging to a small village.

My goal this week was to extend my knowledge of and abilities with the two cowbells. I finished today by learning how to play the cha-cha and mambo bells in unison, using two drumsticks to do it. I also further developed some of my conga drum techniques and tonight, the palms of both hands are a bit tender from my efforts.

The guiro

 The cowbell

 The agogo

Maracas!

You would think, given how much time I usually spend on social media, that my leaving it might have made me twitchy. On the contrary, it has been liberating in a manner I didn't expect. One of my closest friends there has given up Facebook for Lent, and her absence has made it easier to let go. Of course, I already miss the banter with her and with our small group of close friends, but I believe that the break will be a good thing in the long run. We all need to recharge our batteries and rediscover those things we set aside to be in front of the screen over the winter months. Besides the completion of my novel, I'm planning to exercise and read more, to finish all the non-fiction writing I meant to get to since mid-December (there are pending concert reviews of Rod Stewart, Elton John, Glasvegas, and an upcoming Billy Joel show on Sunday), and if winter decides to end sooner rather than later, I'd like to resume my long dog walks once again. The last thing I need to work on is finding myself once again; as clichéd as it sounds, I've lost a bit of focus and calm in the last few months and want to redress the balance in my life.  I don't want to forsake the online people I consider to be close friends for those I see in my daily life, and need to find a way to keep connecting with all of them without abandoning or compromising either group. As soon as I figure out how to do this, I'll be back.



You can find out more about the Latin band Cassava at http://www.cassavalatin.com.