Twitip

by Sean Platt, a ghostwriter for hire and creative blogger who also tweets.

The Landscape of Twitter is no different from any other far reaching vista. The topography is varied, with plenty of terrain to first map and then explore. Many tweeventurers have already gone to great lengths to chart the outlying lands of Twitterville. I’d like to discuss an area that (to my knowledge) receives little attention, yet to my way of thinking is a virtual Twitter trove of informative treasure.

I’m talking about the Twitter Bushes.

The Twitter Bushes harbor the hundred million eyes that hide behind the stream. The main stream is always bustling, AM and PM drawing little distinction – dialogue and discourse, links and laughter. It’s all there. The Twitter Bushes are different, swaddled as they are in wandering observation and pregnant thought.

I used to be black and white when it came to Twitter – either actively engaged in conversation or TweetDeck down for the day. At least until I found a better way. It’s impossible to pull all the potential from Twitter by spending all your seconds swimming in the stream. Now my deck is often open, even on those days when my plate can accommodate only the most cursory sort of participation.

Ironically, it is on those days when I sometimes reap the most benefit.

Stationed behind the bushes, you shed the skin of participant and adopt the role of observer; seeing interaction in an entirely different way. Like life, Twitter goes on with or without you. But unlike life, the elegant design of Twitter allows you to be a fly on the wall any time you wish. The best benefit of the app, at least from where I’m sitting, is its ability to solidify and deepen connections. Like living, breathing conversation, you can sometimes deepen a connection far more by simply listening.

Some of my favorite tweeps I’ve gotten to know better on those days when I said nothing at all, just listened as their tweets took a fossil brush and dusted off a bit of who they were. When I did finally join in conversation, it was with something more significant to say as I felt like I knew them better, even if only in the smallest measure.

I’m sure the same is true turned upside down and pointed back at me.

I was well on my way to absorbing this fundamental Twitter truth all on my own, but a couple of weeks ago the point was driven home while breaking the speed limit along the way. I’d just returned home from a trip to the park with my son, still bubbling a bit from a bilious comment I heard some deadbeat dad deliver to his daughter.

I elected to share the comment, fully expecting the collapse into nothing with the normal breath usually present between tweet and memory. To my surprise, I was looking at a dozen replies within two minutes. Five minutes later, it doubled. Suddenly I was swimming in a conversation that required 100% of my focus. The discourse was real – no different than if it had been passed with pastries and coffee instead of bits and bytes.

I checked later. Many of the tweeps that fell in the fray had been previously quiet, pulled into sudden conversation only by the thread of their heart. A couple of previous connections were deepened that day, a few of my followers immediately followed back, and my perspective on Twitter a bit shifted for the better.

The Twitter Bushes are a terrific place to bide your time, learn the lay of the land, and gather your thoughts. Just remember, don’t stay too long; the best thing about Twitter is the tweeting. And if staying in the bushes isn’t your thing, be careful what you say. You never know who’s lurking.