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He was born without language, a perceptual disconnection he never understood. He was born with a challenge – to survive in a world where visual and spoken languages were the only recognised mediums of communication. He was born deaf and blind to parents who were neither and they had no concept or recognition of his world, as he had none of theirs.
They took him to specialists, determined to fix what had never been broken. They were fortunate in being able to afford to do so. They were unfortunate in that nothing could be done. He grew, cared for and loved – from a distance. Isolated by his inability to react to a seeing, hearing world, he lived in an environment where he was cared for by people who said they understood his special needs. There was no way for them to understand him; they did not perceive the world as he did. He rejected their efforts, comfortable in solitude.
He was alone, but not lonely. In his isolation, within the stillness and quiet of his impressionable mind, there was no way for him to comprehend the concept of impossibilities. There were no limits imposed by a world of words. No lessons of life to be learnt from books.
He was seen as sub-normal, a man to be pitied, but he never learnt the meaning of pity, nor of self. The impregnable fortress that was his mind expanded beyond the limits of a language culture. He recognised air, because he breathed it. He recognised earth, because he stood on it. He recognised animals, because he lived as one. His mind was infinite, unhindered by the restrictions placed on others by their learnt perceptions.
He aged, his understanding of life expanding, until the day it snapped the limits of global consciousness and, effortlessly, he was the universe – from the furthest reaches of space to the tiniest cell in his body.
On that day, he died. Reborn.
*The idea for this story came after a discussion I had with a friend, an article I read here and the prompt from Rachel Poli’s Time to Write post. Unfortunately, we have a tendency to believe that language is a measure of intelligence. It’s not. The truth is, language is just one of the many ways in which humans communicate. One day, we may evolve enough to understand this concept.
I am a woman. I am a friend, a sister, a daughter, a caregiver. I am a writer, an editor, a reader and a publisher. I am a small business owner. I am one person.
Chasing Dreams Publishing is my business. It is the focal point of everything I’m doing at the moment in order to grow it. It is my dream. As with most of my dreams, I have some grandiose ideas, though I’ve put them on the back-burner (for now) to focus on the achievable ones. The flamboyancy will come later.
There are two things standing in the way of achieving my goal of making Chasing Dreams a viable business:
The first is overridden by my passion and sincere belief in my dream. I will make this work. I know it won’t always be easy. I know it’s not impossible.
The second one is broken into several different aspects, one of which is Social Media. Blogs, Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest… there are countless sites out there that claim to connect you to your future business clients.
While a small percentage may make that statement believable, I am frustrated by the necessity of Social Media in business, and in particular in the field of writing. Why?
Because Social Media does not create worthwhile content for me to present to potential clients. It does not edit 150 pages of a manuscript. It does not proofread a magazine. It does not design a book cover that makes a reader exclaim over its beauty. It doesn’t research and write a blog post that is helpful and relevant to my target audience.
Social Media does not serve any useful function that requires me to spend 8+ hours a day browsing Facebook, or following people on Twitter, or skimming Pinterest. Its sole function for my business is to allow me to get great content – whether it’s a new book, a blog post or a weekly Twitter chat – to people who are interested in it.
There will be times when my Social Media sites will appear to be dead, with no daily posts or comments, no interaction to speak of, and no new content. I am okay with this, but others aren’t.
In a society that has elevated Social Media to the level of marketing godhood, little to no activity on sites means that a business has no reliability and should be avoided like the plague.
No one stops to wonder why there isn’t activity, why updates are irregular and far between or why that latest tweet wasn’t re-tweeted at least five times.
So I’ll reiterate.
I am a woman. I am a friend, a sister, a daughter, a caregiver. I am a writer, an editor, a reader and a publisher. I am a small business owner.
I am one person.
And I would rather spend my 8+ hours a day creating content that will be useful to you, and useful to my clients. Content that is worth the time it takes to develop it.
Chasing Dreams is my dream. Social Media is a tool to create it, and when it doesn’t serve a purpose, it gets put into the toolbox with all the other tools. Otherwise, it becomes a waste of time. Mine, and yours.
And no one likes a time-waster.
Disclaimer: I may not always be available on Social Media, but if you drop me an email (email@example.com), I will always get back to you as soon as possible.