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Before you read this, take a deep breath. Feel the breath fill your belly, move into your spine, and down to your toes. And, exhale. Ahhhh. Now move your finger, mindfully, away from the share button – just for a moment. Ready? Read on.

When the government announced details of its Syrian refugee plan – in particular not bringing in 25,000 refugees by the promised deadline – the overwhelming reaction was that this was the right call.

"Breaking an election promise isn't generally considered a smart move, but the Liberal government showed sound judgment," began a Globe and Mail editorial. Other media agreed. Even the opposition didn't freak out.

But online, the haters were mobilized.

The reaction was by no means entirely negative, but some of it was downright nasty, creating the usual caustic cloud around what was clearly a prudent decision.

There's a reason we repeat an unofficial mantra to each other in the news business these days: Never read the comments.

The democratization of commentary allowed by social media is excellent in so many ways, allowing for unprecedented access and discourse. But it has also helped nurture and promote a culture of outrage. At the drop of a hat and at lightspeed, we go from unaware to incensed – even in the absence of actual facts. This is not only distressing in and of itself, but serves to drown out and water down issues that are deserving of attention and indignation.

It's mean out there, and I'm exhausted.

Saturday Night Live got some laughs out of this with its "Should You Chime In On This?" game show last weekend. But, not funny: Weigh in even on the most innocuous of topics and you risk being bombarded with breathless, irate pieces of some anonymous troll's mind.

For instance, yoga.

Jennifer Scharf made headlines this week after the Ottawa Sun reported that her free yoga class at the University of Ottawa's Centre for Students with Disabilities was put on hold by the university's student federation because of concerns about cultural appropriation.

In a subsequent interview with Ottawa Magazine, Ms. Scharf raised concerns about "a trend of over-accommodating entitled young persons that is leading to the censoring of free speech" and used the term "crybullies."

The student federation released a statement saying there were other issues at play, but of course the e-mail Ms. Scharf received referencing oppression, cultural genocide, colonialism and Western supremacy is getting all the attention. The student federation statement says their staff have since experienced "harassment and violence."

I'm going to take a deep breath and chime in: I believe the new ubiquity of yoga has led to a sweet injection of calm, mindful and physical release in Western culture. Sure the phenomenon has lined the pockets of yoga-wear billionaires, but it has also helped millions of us deal with everything from a tough day at the office to catastrophic loss – and I wonder how that could do harm. Should I feel bad for allowing yoga to help me through a late-in-life pregnancy or difficult life events? Or even just improving my core strength?

There are certainly serious matters of cultural appropriation. Did you see that designer sweater this week that looks shockingly similar to a sacred Inuit design? But how far down the cultural appropriation road do we want to go? Golf? Spaghetti? Christmas?

I strike the Warrior Pose, awaiting the inevitable venomous responses.

Also concerning is how quickly outrage ramps up, even when we know almost nothing about something. With no details released about the "serious allegations" against the novelist Steven Galloway, now suspended from his position as chair of the creative writing program at UBC, a wait-and-see approach seemed advisable, but a tornado of outrage and defence quickly blew up to fill the information vacuum, leading to some vitriolic Twitter exchanges.

It's enough to send you scurrying back to Facebook – if only people's gourmet lunches, perfect children, awesome renovations and amazing Hawaiian vacations didn't make us feel so rotten about our own lives.

There is no shortage of issues about which to be outraged: The appalling apathy over Canada's missing and murdered indigenous women. The gruelling plight of refugees (Syrian or otherwise). Donald Trump mocking a reporter who has a disability. Volkswagen.

I am not suggesting I (or anyone for that matter) be the arbiter of what's outrage-worthy; I do not want to curate your wrath. But can we all take a deep breath and apply some common sense to our fury?

As I began writing this early Thursday morning, I tweeted a short tribute to the woman who has been reading the news on the CBC Radio morning show in Vancouver for years, and who was retiring that day. I worked with Cecilia Walters years ago and she is universally admired; the kind of person about whom no one could ever say a bad thing.

Almost immediately, a reply: "Another good move to free up some space for younger people. Geriatric broadcasting."

If this is what Twitter has wrought, give me the good old days of weird, handwritten (sometimes in crayon) snail mail. This endless cycle of instant rage, baiting, shaming and backlash is eating up time, energy and on some days, my will to write another word and help fuel it all.

I'm all for debate, but I'm tired of the menacing, indiscriminate toxicity. The nastiness is unproductive and utterly dispiriting.

Namaste, friends.

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