In the past couple of weeks, I’ve watched as two long-standing web resources have announced they would be ceasing operations. This left me with a weird, sad space in my inner being. Change is not my favorite thing.
This world is rife with instability. The web seems to be a highly intensified version of that instability — so much so that I find myself really needing to take a beat before I commit to a resource or software. The lifecycle of content and creations seems to be eclipsing at a much faster rate than they once did.
In response to this lightning-quick cycle of digital birth and decay, we’ve told ourselves that everything is okay because “things change”. It’s just part of the equation - the way it is. These fallback reactions are meant to soothe and equalize both sides of that equation, but at times it feels a little like a cheap wool blanket full of holes.
These fallback reactions are meant to soothe and equalize both sides of that equation, but at times it feels a little like a cheap wool blanket full of holes.
Yet, change does happen. Businesses run out of money, jobs change, people move from one place to another, downturns come when we don’t want them, and people and businesses die. Yet, both life and business move forward, and little we do will change this. The overall circumference of our comfort area will be affected. Guaranteed.
I will specifically miss these resources that I relied so heavily upon for the past decade-plus. It’s even more bittersweet because of my tangential, personal involvement with one of them (ALA will continue, but sadly, ABA will not). But, I do have the memories to hold on to. I also have the experience and knowledge that I absorbed from their gooey centers when they were big, lush, and full of wonder.
I may hate change, but I can’t do anything to stop it. So, instead, I silently mourn for a time and then let go. Hopefully making room for the next thing coming along.