Farewell to Farmville
It was last fall that I finally answered an invitation on Facebook… the social networking website, to play Farmville… a social networking game. How fun I thought, that rather than playing solitaire or mahjong by myself, I would play this farming game and be able to catch up with friends at the same time. What could be better?
I was brand new to the world wide web of all things electronically social and it appeared to be a simplest of avenues to keep in the loop. I’d have a small interaction with friends and acquaintances from miles away as I decompressed from my day. What better way to spend 10 minutes than with that 6” x 6” plot of flat screen ground while sending and receiving trees, chickens, fences and lambs with friends.
It even felt familiar, this sensation of a momentary connection. I remembered that when Sean was two and just getting his own little sense of self he practiced a ritual of comfort as he took those first steps of independence. He would make a foray into another room, or even down stairs, or get occupied with a toy and then feeling alone, he’d run into whatever room I was in and he’d touch my leg as if to say… “I’m big enough to go off on my own… but I just want to know you’re still here.” When he was satisfied with that knowledge… off he’d go again—without a word.
So as I’m now experiencing a somewhat independent journey of my own, away from so many familiar people and things… it was kind of nice to be able to run to Farmville to put my hand out and touch some of the folks who were no longer in my every day. It was indeed comforting to see their one inch by one inch face on the bottom of my Farmville screen listed as “neighbors” and to have the illusion (or is it a delusion) of being connected.
And then there were the “gifts.” In Gary Chapman’s book about the five love languages, he says that there are 5 ways that we prefer to give and to receive love. There’s a short test available to see what someone else needs to do to make us feel loved… and how we like to express love to others. It will come as no surprise to anyone who loves me that I give and receive love through gifts. Sometimes notes and cards, sometimes the real deal, shop/buy/charge/joy/ give/smile/love. That’s me.
So imagine the degree of my enchantment with Farmville when I found that one way the game is successfully navigated is through the giving and receiving of gifts. Free gifts. Just click to send and click to open and your farm begins to grow. Free gifts! I love this virtual world of social relationships. I even started receiving gifts and requests to be a “neighbor” from folks I didn’t know. Now I’ve watched my share of Mr. Roger’s Neighborhood. There is really only one response to “would you be mine, could you be mine, won’t you be my neighbor?”
My farm began to flourish. And just about the time I was running out of room on my 6 x 6 plot, I learned that I could buy a bigger farm. Whoa! But this bigger plot wasn’t free like the first one. And, oh heck, since I was going to buy a bigger farm anyway, I might as well, buy a few other things. After all, it didn’t cost me anything to start. What’s a few bucks negotiable without ever leaving my computer screen?
By now the holidays were almost upon us and there were virtual turkeys and cornucopias and then Christmas trees and gift trees and presents… there were nutcrackers, and candy cane fences, and more virtual presents to give and receive. And I love Christmas decorations, so I had to plant more crops, and I had to visit my farm everyday so that (heaven’s no) my crops wouldn’t wither. And if I did it just right, some days I could plant the same ground twice. I bought one house and then a shed, then a bigger house. And now there were Christmas lights and snow. I could buy snow and my whole farm turned from green to white, yet I could still plant and harvest. This is a great reality.
I was helping my friends on their farms almost every day and sending them things too. But we didn’t talk about real things only fake trees, fake livestock, fake fertilizer and sending fake gifts. And it didn’t feel much like I was touching base with friends anymore. I felt more like a supplier for their next hit on Farmville, as they were the suppliers for mine. And way beyond the few minutes it took per day when I began, I was up to 30 minutes twice a day to keep it all going – an hour without any real interaction with real people.
It was then that I first decided to quit; but there were valentines in my virtual mailbox and there were shamrock bushes to plant for extra XP. And I’d just put out dozens of virtual flowers and they’d be drooping in two weeks… then my farm would be ugly if I didn’t go in to clean it up. I’d have an ugly vitual farm with dead virtual crops and no virtual friends.
So my next idea was to phase out slowly and yes I know how silly this sounds. I planned to remove all the living things (vitual living things) from the farm that needed to be fed and harvested, so I sold off all my sheep and cows, all the lambs, calves and pigs—after all—if I’m quitting I don’t want them to starve. And I plowed under all 140 squares of planting space I’d amassed. That was a lot of harvestable ground. I replaced it with trees and shrubs and some water features. And since I was going to be away, I took down my pretty pink fence and put up a sturdy stone fence instead, ivy covered. Don’t want any squatters you know. And I took the Christmas nutcrackers and tin soldiers out of storage (oh yes, there’s storage for those things you buy and don’t really need anymore) and placed them strategically around the place for protection of my virtual social networking farm.
As I fortified my farm I realized that I hadn’t visited or helped on my neighbors farms for a while, and come to think of it, they hadn’t visited or helped on mine. And, hmmm… we never really talked or connected as I thought we would even when we did virtually interact across the miles of Farmville.
My virtual social networking foray was never as social as it seemed at first possible. Now that I’ve given up the farm, I wonder if anyone will notice that’s I’m no longer their neighbor? Or is this really just one more way (albeit a 21st century way) that people fall through the cracks of other peoples lives without ever having to say good-bye, or I’ll miss you? PEACE AND JOY, THE CELTIC MONK
The Celtic Monk Musings 