Comments on Comments

I first started teaching online classes about a year and a half ago, and I was skeptical. At one point I had a student remark how much he liked it and learned in it...and I was honestly surprised. Not because I lacked confidence in my material or teaching style, but just because I didn't have any face-to-face interaction with him and didn't see his learning taking place. I was similarly blown away when another online student, who later took an in-person class from me, stated he preferred online classes in general.

There's something about interacting online that I have a hard time wrapping my head around. I was highly resistant to Facebook for a long time for this same reason--I didn't really believe that relationships could be strengthened through any online tools. The fact that learning and bonding happen through a screen and keyboard still kind of boggles my mind.

It does happen, though. It's why I still teach online classes, participate in Facebook, and, to a degree, why I write on this blog. Based on a number of headings of blogs attached to the LDS Addiction Recovery Blog site, I believe there are many people who also write in their blogs to teach, learn from, and connect with others in a strictly online setting.

Still, online interactions aren't all made equal. I've come to believe that one of the best ways to strengthen each other and ourselves online is to leave sincere, thoughtful comments. In this post I'll talk about commenting as an act of faith and service, as an investment in a community, and as an act of critical analysis.

An Act of Faith and Service

When I think back on my prayer relationship with Heavenly Father, there are times it's been pretty shabby. It wasn't for a lack of trying--I'd pray "Lord, you know my heart. My life isn't where it should be, but I honestly want to follow you and do your will. Please help me resist the temptations I will encounter tomorrow." Why didn't Heavenly Father help me? I was being honest...mostly. The only problem is that I didn't want to follow Him if it meant I had to change my behavior. The next day I would keep the same secrets and try to combat the temptations the same way I'd been trying, hoping that Heavenly Father would cure me on my terms (no wonder I couldn't sustain nightly prayers with such a prideful attitude).  Recovery from addiction doesn't work like that! There has to be acts accompanying words. I've come to realize that even confessing and forsaking my sins once isn't enough to qualify for daily protection from Heavenly Father. There must be daily acts of faith to show I mean business.

For example, this week I was grading an essay about welding which unexpectedly had an image of a woman (using a plasma cutter) with a low shirt and a short skirt. I didn't go looking for this picture, and I didn't want the mental tornadoes it caused. I prayed for help, but I was still caught in obsessive thinking. I prayed again. Why didn't Heavenly Father take these thoughts from me? Fed up with it, I decided to reach out. I called a guy in my recovery group. He didn't even answer, but immediately my thoughts calmed and I was able to get back to grading. I can see Heavenly Father waiting patiently to bless me the second I stepped out of my comfort zone. I need to show an act of faith first, though.

Online comments can fill this role. Sometimes after reading a blog post I have a comment come to mind that I want to share. Most of the time, though, I have to really dig if I want to say something meaningful. It makes me anxious: could they be offended? Is this even helpful? Is this honest? At times I spend longer thinking of a two sentence comment than I spent reading the post. I believe it's time well spent, though; not only am I potentially helping someone else, but I'm also showing Heavenly Father that I'm willing to serve others and qualify for blessings.

An Investment in a Community

There's an allegory (by Rabbi Haim of Romshishok) of a man who toured both heaven and hell that goes something like this: The angel first took him to hell--all around he saw the most delicious foods: steaks, cheesecakes, crisp salad mixes, root beer floats, asparagus (so sue me--I like asparagus), ice cream, funeral potatoes, creme brûlée, etc. The people were looking longingly at the foods, but the food was kept in containers which kept the inhabitants from eating any of it. However, all the people had spoons tied to their hands. The spoons could fit into the containers, and the people tried ceaselessly to get the food into their mouths. The only problem was that the handles of the spoons were too long, and, no matter how people bent, twisted, and contorted themselves, the delicious food was always just out of their reach.

The man commented to the angel how terrible and tortuous a place hell was. The angel smiled as he took the man to heaven. The room was exactly the same. There were the same containers, the same food, and the same ridiculously long spoons attached to everyone's hands. The man was confused. He told the angel he must have made a mistake and taken him to the wrong place. The angel pointed to the people and told him to watch. Indeed, a glance showed that these people were not the frustrated, tortured wretches like in hell. They were happy, smiling, and laughing. The man was confused until he saw the difference. No one could feed themselves, but in heaven they all took turns feeding each other.

The people in hell were so busy trying to feed themselves that it never occurred to them to help others.

In this story, heaven and hell were exactly the same. The only difference was that the self-centered obsession of those in hell made their lives a torture, while the selfless pursuit of others' wellbeing of those in heaven made their lives a chance to connect. I believe comments are like the food in the analogy: we can pursue them selfishly, only concerned with what we get (think of the stereotypical Facebook narcissist), or we can show our faith and concern for others by giving selflessly. What becomes of the community--whether or not it becomes a place where people help and comfort each other--depends on how we treat our fellow blog posters...and our comments are a great indicator of how we're doing.

An Act of Critical Analysis

Thinking or talking about an idea can be great, but one of the things I love about writing is how it can revolutionize the way you think about things in a way no other medium can. Anyone who's ever had to write a talk knows that putting your thoughts on paper is a demanding and difficult task. Addressing a single audience member--writing a comment--in a helpful and sincere way can be even harder, but in the end I believe it can result in an even greater understanding of the topic. Comments can be a chance to learn from others' experience and insights.

Now might be a good time to break down what I mean when I say "comment" on a blog post. I argue that there are certain moves you can make, each with their inherent benefits and challenges. I believe the more potentially beneficial the commenting technique, the more dangers there are involved as well. I list them here from "safe" to "dangerous":

Technique	Potential Benefits	Potential Challenges
Thanking for the post (or idea, or them).	They feel appreciated and recognized.	They may question your motives.
Affirming their approach or idea.	They feel validated and useful.	It may come across as forced or insincere.
Sharing a similar experience.	They feel connected and less alone.	They feel “one-uped” or misunderstood.
Asking for clarification or additional info.	They feel that someone cares about them, their thoughts, and/or their situation.	Could be seen as an invasion of privacy or evidence their post was poorly worded.
Sharing thoughts about the topic / extending the idea.	They feel someone understands and cares, and they learn something new.	Could be interpreted as criticism/ could cause feelings of inadequacy.
Giving direct advice.	They feel cared about and they learn something directly applicable.	They feel preached to, judged, or inadequate (or that you think they are inadequate).
Correcting or questioning an idea.	They think more deeply about the topic and learn something. They feel an increase of respect and understanding.	They feel preached at, judged, criticized, or misunderstood.

The difference between a comment that nails the benefits and a comment that stumbles over the challenges may not be very much. Still, the spirit it's written in can make all the difference. In my experience, when I write a comment from a place of irritation or lecturing, it's always going to backfire. When I feel the spirit when I'm writing it, it's worth pushing "submit." I always tell my students to use the "hug/slap/hug" method of giving feedback--bookending criticism in praise, or at least giving twice as much positive feedback as negative.

I suppose I could have written another post or at least a section about reading comments, but let me adapt the Ralph Waldo Emerson quote in my side bar to apply to comments: "[Comments], though foolishly [written], may be wisely [read]." In other words, even poorly written comments have things of value in them for the wise recipient. However, there's no question it's hard to say, "I'm going to take the good in your words and discard the possibly spiteful, judgmental, or misinformed." An example of this is a recent post on A Wife Redeemed. Shay was obviously hurt by the comment (which I felt clearly fit into the "challenges" category of "direct advice" and "correcting or questioning an idea"), but she still addressed a legitimate part of the comment. 

I challenge everyone--including myself--to make more comments, especially comments that build up, inspire, and enlighten. When a more in-depth "higher level" comment isn't possible, at least we should make a gratitude, affirming, or experience-sharing comment. May we also read comments with more forgiveness and optimism. If we can, hopefully when we get to the hereafter we'll find we already have good practice at feeding those around us. 

P.S. What did you think about my take on comments? Did I miss any techniques that you like to use? What benefits or challenges did I miss? What other aspects of commenting did I miss? (And to the skeptical, I promise this post isn't an attempt to fish for more comments :)

P.P.S. Yet again, I'm having trouble with my boundaries about video games. On Monday I started the beginning of a two week hiatus--I'll have to assess whether or not video games are compatible with my recovery at all (as much as it pains me to say it). I may write more about this later. Hopefully this break will lead to more free time to finish other projects...like a comic I've been working on for at least three weeks.