Wow, 77 likes! That’s a good Facebook post, right? Seventy-seven people took a moment to click a response to something you put online. They liked it or loved it or laughed or made a sad face. Some of them even made a comment. It’s very satisfying when that happens, isn’t it? When you make a connection to so many people.
And how about those 62 kind souls who wished you a happy birthday a couple weeks ago? That’s also a good thing, right? Knowing that so many people care about you? It’s certainly better than what happened to my friend “Bob,” who only got six comments on his birthday. What a loser. But at least a couple of them were very enthusiastic: “Hope you have a great birthday, Bob!!” “Happiest of birthdays, Bob! Hope all is well!”
The only problem is that Bob died in 2019, so I’m guessing he didn’t see those six birthday wishes. And I’m guessing those folks who wished him a happy birthday were not particularly close to Bob. Or — not to be too cynical here — maybe, while slurping their morning coffee, they got the daily notice from Facebook alerting them to which friends were having birthdays that day. They saw Bob’s name on the list and thought, “Oh, hey, I should wish that guy a happy one. What can it hurt?” There. Done. Back to Wordle.
That cynicism will get you nowhere, pal. Sure, we all get a lot of obligatory “Happy Birthday” messages. It’s part of the deal we make with social media when we give them every morsel of information about our lives. But it’s a bit much to expect that every single one of your 1,147 “friends” will be able to keep up with whether or not you’re actually breathing. Besides, it’s not all just perfunctory cliches. Some people give you an exclamation point! Or two!! Or maybe they post an actual sentiment or mention a moment you’ve shared in years gone by.
Listen, my friend, it’s your birthday, and 62 people noticed. You should enjoy the day, okay? Don’t think about it too much.
Or maybe think about it in a whole new way.
Think about all those social media clicks on your birthday as an entry point into a meditation or even a celebration of who you are. Maybe click on that list of people who reacted and take the time to check out their profiles, take a minute to think about how you know each other. Maybe try to bring up a memory of them, a moment you once shared.
There’s your high school buddy from the track team who drifted into drugs and now runs a homeless shelter; there’s that woman you worked with in Detroit so long ago, the one you kinda had a crush on; there’s the nice lady who used to babysit your children and still remembers their birthdays 30 years later; there’s that guy who is friends with 75 of your friends and friended you and you said yes even though you’ve never met; there’s the neighbor down the street who walks her cat; your boyfriend from 1989; the guy who was in your band, etc.
Most of them don’t know each other. The only thing they have in common is you. You are the hub. They are the spokes on the wheel of your life. You connected with them at some point during your days on this planet. Whether you worked together for years or just met once, you shared a back road.
Maybe you could imagine those 62 people gathered together in a room somewhere, watching you blow out the candles on your cake, cheering as the flames lean away from your sharp exhalation and the smoke rises and the little candle wicks fade and darken and smolder. As you lift your eyes from the imagined cake to the imagined throng of friends and family from all the days of your life, let yourself feel grateful that lots of people care about you — and that you’re not Bob.
