Yesterday was a tragic day for multiple reasons. It breaks my heart to see someone not only violently murdered but violently treated—whatever his or her political affiliation or personal attitude. Seeing people on the left celebrate the death of a young husband and father made me sick—but so did seeing people on the right mock an elderly man and public servant for his declining health.
I made the mistake of scrolling through Twitter (X), something I rarely do because I genuinely don’t think I’m sanctified enough for that platform. I know that my greatest strength—quickness with words—is also my biggest weakness. Thus, networks based on short-form text and soundbites represent a very real spiritual danger for me.
I refrained from posting or commenting, but scroll I did—and came away more sickened than before.
I wondered briefly whether yesterday represented not only the death of a public figure but yet another death knell in the slow decline of rational discourse.
But then I remembered that, just the night before, my husband and I had a delightful dinner with our neighbors. We talked about politics and doctrine, openly disagreeing on some things without descending into useless debating or contention. We remain not only neighbors but friends.
As we talked, one neighbor shared a brief story of his interactions with another one of our neighbors that I found encouraging. He said that after the election in 2020, he shouted across the fence, “Hey, neighbor! I didn’t vote for Trump!” to which the other neighbor replied, “Hi neighbor! I didn’t vote for Biden!” They waved, chuckled, and continued to live peaceably beside one another.
This might sound like a cozy anecdote from a bygone era, but do you remember 2020? It was just as bad as 2025. Scenes like this one are more common than you might expect if you live too much on social media.
So, consider this little blog post an encouragement to disconnect for a while. Stop scrolling those digital echo chambers; they are algorithmically programmed to make you anxious, angry, and addicted. They are intentionally manipulated to platform the loudest, most polarizing voices, and to exploit human suffering for clicks and likes.
I humbly invite you to get off social media and go grill some meat. Sit on your porch. Touch some grass. Read a book—or a blog post. Anything but Twitter (X), really. Chat with the folks from across the street without worrying whether they are also across the political aisle.
In an age of digital outrage, please prioritize human connection. This is not only how we will maintain our sanity; it’s how we will remember to treat others with dignity. Spending too much time on certain digital platforms will only lead us to further villainize and objectify those with whom we disagree. Now, perhaps more than ever, we need to move beyond our screens. We need to engage directly with people rather than pixels.
In the meantime, my prayers are with the grieving.
Ryanne Molinari 