So I decided to take a week off tweeting. This wasn't something I really put a lot of planning into. It's wasn't a scientific experiment. Or Lent. It was really a combination of a few things like not feeling like I had much to contribute at the time and also needing to focus on some pretty specific goals for a while.
Photo by SteffeA big reason I took a break was that I had made a goal that I really wanted to make a larger contribution to the community this year (mostly in the form of blogging more) and halfway into January I still hadn't made much more of a concerted effort to get out any thoughts beyond 140 characters. Now I don't want to downplay the potential value of these glorious snippets of wisdom I share. It's very well possible that every time I hit submit in Tweetie that a unicorn is born in a far off land. But I was obviously feeling the disconnect between these great events and their contribution towards my goals.
So spending one week without Twitter gave me a decent sense of how I think about the technology. I really do believe that it is a technology that is unlike any other. I know that some people feel the same way about Facebook or perhaps another online social community they are a part of. For me, Twitter has become an important way that I connect with others and being off of it for a week seems like it is more significant than just saying I'm not going to use the phone or read the news for a week. It's certainly more significant that cutting out one-way broadcast-only technologies like TV or radio.
Twitter is a lot of things to a lot of people. I use it both for both personal and professional reasons, but I found that the aspect that I missed the most about it was the connection it brought me with people I would not otherwise be connected to. These might be people I was connected to in the past but are now separated by geography or people I have never met in person, but with whom I have had the pleasure of interacting with online.
I couldn't help but think of what Leisa Reichelt called ambient intimacy. She defines it as:
Ambient intimacy is about being able to keep in touch with people with a level of regularity and intimacy that you wouldn’t usually have access to, because time and space conspire to make it impossible.
And in response to the obvious follow-up question "Who cares?" I think her response is also apt:
There are a lot of us, though, who find great value in this ongoing noise. It helps us get to know people who would otherwise be just acquaintances. It makes us feel closer to people we care for but in whose lives we’re not able to participate as closely as we’d like.
Knowing these details creates intimacy. (It also saves a lot of time when you finally do get to catchup with these people in real life!) It’s not so much about meaning, it’s just about being in touch.
And being off Twitter for a week is like not talking to those with whom you would normally converse on a daily basis. So to the few of you on Twitter who I had been talking with, I wasn't ignoring you. I was just on an unannounced vacation for a bit (incidentally, don't try doing one of these unannounced vacations with your spouse).
And one short note about being off Twitter for your business: don't do it. Ever. It obviously makes no sense at all to stop doing this unless you replace it with and equally effective way with talking to your audience and potential audience. And there are not many equally effective tools at this point. If you're not in the conversation, your company is as good as dead to the public eye.
Thanks and best wishes to all.
@jamiestephens