On and Off the Tweet by Jane Seskin

I’m a senior woman, a psychotherapist and author who still writes letters and sends Thank You notes. My cell phone and I have a custody agreement: 50% of the time I take it with me. For the other 50% it stays at home in its charger. When it goes somewhere with me, I tend to keep the ringer off.

I believe when you’re out in the world – you should be out in the world. You could be noticing the sky and yourself and the people and action around you. I want to observe the cool bowtie on that man. See the woman with the great hat. Listen to that young couple argue.  And later, shout to the young girl: “Watch out for the bike!” All these various sights and sounds are of interest to me and I want to be present for them. I don’t want to be hostage to a phone. With this attitude, and the knowledge that I’m on nothing … no Facebook, no Instagram, no Snapchat, no Linkedin, how the Hell did I get on Twitter?

In October 2016, I joined nine other writers from around the country at Noepe, a writer’s residency in Martha’s Vineyard. I was accepted based on my poems about aging. My intention was to edit the mass of poems I brought with me and get them in shape for a publishable manuscript. It was not, I repeat, not to connect to Twitter. But one afternoon another writer, a generous author from Massachusetts, volunteered to teach a class on Twitter and I decided to attend, to see what all the fuss was about. The four other writers who were present, all over sixty, were following along with the teacher and busy signing in and getting handles while I was still sputtering, “I need more time. I really have to think about this. I’m not sure this is right for me.” But … the momentum created by the others pulled me through the waves and there I was, quickly coming up with and saying my handle, who I was, out loud: @jsauthorshrink.

Home, I was off-kilter. None of my friends had Twitter accounts and were shocked that I did! Also, I was not really clear about what I wanted to say. But a few weeks later after some deliberation, I decided to post every Monday and Friday, to begin and close out the week.  And, my tweets would only call for reflection and personal change. I would have no conversations nor answer other tweets.

It was later that I realized I needed followers. OMG! Where to find them? I cajoled friends and even sat across from some as they signed up. Took less than 10 minutes. Bless them. They didn’t want to do it. Soon others came on board: the stylist cutting my hair, the furniture delivery man who brought me my new table, classmates in Senior Aerobics, waiters in the neighborhood coffee shop, the tailor, pharmacist, my Doctor. You get the idea. When I got going, I had no shame in asking for support.

I was on Twitter just to say what I wanted to say, something hopefully helpful. Think of a very abbreviated therapy moment. I wrote under the heading: Emotional Band-Aid. Small Steps For Change. I loved posting first thing in the morning. It felt like an accomplishment, and I was off and running for the day. I loved the challenge of fitting a complete thought into a very small space. I loved the twice-a-week consistency.  And I believed routine and ritual were good for your mental health.

For years I posted and was quite content. But then … oh dear! A change in the site ownership. And, as time went on, I realized I could no longer post on a site whose leadership I could not respect nor support. On October 22nd I wrote my last Emotional Band-Aid. “Taking a break. What do you need a break from? Do it!” 

I’m glad I was on Twitter. I occasionally look back to remember the good ideas I posted there. Equally glad I tried a bicycle again at 60, went horseback riding at sixty-five and last month at 79, flew back to NY in an eight-seat airplane. It was about daring myself to try something new, to explore opportunities and expand my vision of myself. Who knows what awaits me in my 80’s?  Stay tuned.

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Jane Seskin is a psychotherapist and author, most recently of the poetry collection Older Wiser Shorter: The Truth and Humor of Life After 65.  Her poems and essays have appeared in numerous national magazines and journals (Cosmopolitan, Woman’s Day, NY Times, Persimmon Tree). She is a contributor to the Anthology Chicken Soup for the Soul: Get Out of Your Comfort Zone and has been nominated for a Pushcart Prize.

Older, Wiser, Shorter: The Truth and Humor of Life after 65: Poems

OWS is an intimate collection of 89 poems from Jane Seskin, a working psychotherapist and author. Seskin, authentic, funny, insightful, quirky and heartfelt, acknowledges the disappointments, physical vulnerability and emotional loss taking place in her senior years. She is able to discover within herself a solid sense of power, resilience and new-found joys through her struggles to acknowledge, accommodate and accept her aging. Seskin’s ability to make the very personal universal, will resonate with readers seeking to discover new ways to honor the past, celebrate the present and welcome the future. A Reading Guide to the poems will inspire further reflection and discussion for book and women’s groups.

This New Revised Edition contains 26 additional poems!

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