I've also received too much junk in my email about all kinds of things. The latest assault came with disturbing graphic photos and the accompanying advice to wash newly bought underwear before wearing them because of flesh-eating bacteria that caused all kinds of terrible lesions and infections. First, that's common sense. Please wash anything new before wearing it. Next, how can we confirm that those photos were authentic, or that there's even an underwear-borne flesh-eating bacteria? I mean, really. We have to be responsible about the information we unleash out there.
When I pointed out the above to the sender--someone I don't know but whose name and junk keep appearing in my mailbox--she said she didn't send me the junk and her mail was addressed to someone else, another person I didn't know. Horrors! Which brings me to my next point: if you don't know the person, do not put them in your mailbox or feel you can keep sending them junk. Anonymity does not equal intimacy. It is the opposite. Online, we have to erect firm, inward boundaries and abide by them.
I have a few people in my circle who just love to forward junk. I simply ignore, ignore, ignore and really only answer personal email. In this world of "too much" what is needed is a clear path to less, to strive to be lean in everything--getting and imparting just what is needed, or just what is asked. The game is not about acquisition but discernment.
Finally, this week, a friend forwarded a very strange and obviously bogus email from my mom, saying she was stranded in Africa somewhere and would need funds. What was more surprising than the email were people's responses--doubt. "Is this for real?", they asked, when I took one look at it and knew it was bogus simply because of the content, tone, and flavor of the letter and not just because I knew my mother was in Makati. I even got a text from someone I didn't really know saying it was urgent and she needed to speak with me about my mother. But I was in the middle of a workshop and instantly felt it might be related to the email. I figured if there were a real emergency someone I knew would be calling me or Dale nonstop. During the break I asked if it might be about the bogus email and, indeed, that's what it was. I would have been very upset if I had been interrupted because of that. Still I wondered why they even thought to check with me. Out of concern, perhaps, and I am grateful, but I still found the email so glaringly fake and immediately saw it for the scam that it was. But I had to laugh when I sent my mother a message saying I had read the email and she assured me she was in Makati and I needn't worry. Even she gave it weight.
The Internet is a great tool, but like all modern conveniences, we must learn to use it responsibly.
