With an overabundant choice of communication methods, it seems ironic that we are rapidly becoming incapable of the most common courtesy- paying attention.
Remember ‘paying attention’? It use to alert us that something important was about to be said- ‘If everyone could please pay attention, I have an announcement to make’. In the classroom, lack of it would elicit an outright threat- ‘Unless everyone starts paying attention, recess will be cancelled’. Paying attention use to be a very big deal, but lately not so much.
Driving to work, seatbelt strapped in with both hands on the wheel, I listen to a radio report about a study that found people who multi-task are not able to do anything very well, because it is not possible to pay full attention to several things at once. I wonder how I too can get paid to find out the obvious, as I slam on the brakes to avoid a car running a red light to take a left turn with no blinker. And apparently no hands, as they hold a phone to their ear while eating a breakfast sandwich. Instead of mastering the art of driving with their knees, perhaps they should master the art of paying attention.
Minutes later, another near miss when a pedestrian pops out from between two parked cars. Laughing, texting and wearing an ipod, he jaywalks without as much as a glance my way. Luckily for both of us, I was paying attention.
Enter the workplace, where texting during meetings has become an epidemic. In frustration, I channel my 2nd grade teacher and half jokingly ask my staff to let me see both hands on the table before the meeting starts to be sure they are free from electronic devices. As if on queue, someone’s cell phone starts buzzing in its holster. Yes it was funny, but in that frustrated ‘can’t win’ sort of way. And I realize I can no longer swim against the tide of technology that seems to have drowned out common courtesy.
But technology is just the latest in a long line of distractions. How many phone conversations have we suffered through that were interspersed with outbursts directed towards unseen children, pets or partners? And how many conversations have included comments on what was on TV at the time, accompanied by the sound of eating, or even the sound of someone ordering food at a drive up window mid conversation? And how many times a day do we utter "what was I just talking about" as a testimony to the rapid stream of events around us competing for our attention?
As usual, I am not immune to the subject of my own rant, and I understand the hypnotic allure of the "you have email" siren song that woos me in the midst of a budget meeting with my boss. He hears it too, and challenges me with direct eye contact to see if I glance away to peek at my computer screen. Ironically, this showdown is halted when his Blackberry rings, and he does not hesitate to take a technology time out to determine who is more important, the person sitting in front of him or the person texting for his attention. My answer lies in the silence broken only by the sound of tiny thumb typing as he texts back to the unknown interrupter.
Determined to have just one conversation that does not take place to the background music of computer typing, cell phone ringing, eating, cars honking or any other interruption, I return a lunch time phone call from a friend. Fully committed to the conversation, I close my office door and turn the volume down on my computer so I will not be distracted. As I launch into a recap of events over the past few weeks, I am aware of something I have not heard in a very long time – the silence of listening on the other end of the line. ‘Wow, she is really paying attention!’ I’m thinking, as the phone rings in my hand.
It’s my friend. "I’m sorry," she says "I must have hung up on you by accident. I was trying to hold the phone with my shoulder while I was doing the dishes. So what were you saying again…?"
Monday, June 29, 2009
Tuesday, June 23, 2009
The Changing Face of Friendship
I overhear a young child at a pool whisper to his parents "I’m going to play with that boy over there". Without hesitation, he jumps in and commands the former stranger to "stand with your legs open and let me swim through them". In minutes they are fast friends, laughing hysterically. The logic is beautifully simple: ‘I’m a kid, and so are you- let’s play.’ If we could only continue that innocent approach to friendship our whole lives, no one would ever be lonely again.
In my youth, our little lives were not overscheduled with places we needed to be every day of the week, allowing us to make our own decisions about what sounded like fun at the time.
I know where the concept of American Idol started- in the bedroom of Debbie, age 9, who lived on the corner and owned a kick butt collection of 45 records. We would spend hours challenging each other to lip sync to the B side of hit songs, judging each other on dance moves, showmanship and knowing all the words. And long before online shopping was invented, my friend Tina and I would draw "stores" on Doodle Pads and exchange them so we could "shop" with our unlimited credit lines. We would then hop on our bikes and ride to Almy’s snack bar for "french fries and coke" which we would chant out loud the whole way for no particular reason except that it made us laugh. While I lost track of Debbie when her family moved, I remain forever friends with Tina and I’m grateful to have someone in my life who knew the ‘mini me’, with whom I can laugh about how goofy we were, and how goofy we can still be.
In high school, friendships become our safe place amidst the turmoil of hormones and peer pressure. We clump together to feel some sense of belonging, even if our group was comprised of those who don’t fit in anywhere else. I recall my high school years as "social survival", and I found a lifejacket in my friend Karen who, with her wit and humor, made high school bearable. But as time moved on we did too. We attended different colleges and went our separate ways. Some friendships survive these changes and some do not. Sadly, ours was the latter, despite our sincere yearbook pledges to be forever friends. Still, my memories of high school will be forever intertwined with memories of Karen.
Entering the workforce, we spend the majority of our waking hours with the same group of people each day, developing strong bonds with those who share a similar point of view. My work buddies understand the absurdities of our business like no one else can. We shares hysterical inside jokes that would draw a blank stare from anyone else, eliciting some of the best belly laughs of my life- the kind so deep that it makes no sound, your eyes tear up and your stomach hurts. One April Fools Day I left my friend Ellen a message to call Mr. Roach at A-1 Exterminators to place an ad. It was the lamest joke I’ve ever pulled, but she fell for it, which cracks me up to this day. Our work relationships may or may not survive as we move on, but the best memories of my newspaper career will always be my co-workers who filled my workdays with humor, camraderie and sometime shenanigans.
Related to work friends are my ‘conference friends’ who work at newspapers around the country. I have seen them once a year for over 20 years, but the distance between us and our rare meetings do not hinder our friendship. I became especially close with Laura, and while making plans to visit with her in New Mexico I stated "You know me, I’m not a lot of work." To which she quickly responded "Yes I know you, and you are a lot of work, but its so endearing that you think you are not." We still laugh over the accuracy of her insight. It is a true friend that recognizes our idiosyncrasies and reflects them back as strengths rather than weaknesses.
I went full circle in the friendship loop when I joined the Wicked Running Club. Much like those kids at the pool, the concept is simple: "I’m a runner and so are you- let’s run together." The acceptance is unconditional, and all-inclusive. It doesn’t matter how old you. It doesn’t matter how fast you are. And it doesn’t matter what you do for work. All we need to have in common to be friends is our running, and the simplicity of that friendship in the midst of a complex world is refreshing, irreplaceable, and reminiscent of the fast friendship we forged as kids.
I could write pages and pages about friends I have had over the years, past and present, and for that I am grateful. While I can easily keep company on my own, that only makes my friendships more rewarding as they are based on choice, not need. Some friendships are forever, some we outgrow, and some we sadly outlive, but all are unique in helping us to discover those parts of ourselves recognizable only to a true friend.
In my youth, our little lives were not overscheduled with places we needed to be every day of the week, allowing us to make our own decisions about what sounded like fun at the time.
I know where the concept of American Idol started- in the bedroom of Debbie, age 9, who lived on the corner and owned a kick butt collection of 45 records. We would spend hours challenging each other to lip sync to the B side of hit songs, judging each other on dance moves, showmanship and knowing all the words. And long before online shopping was invented, my friend Tina and I would draw "stores" on Doodle Pads and exchange them so we could "shop" with our unlimited credit lines. We would then hop on our bikes and ride to Almy’s snack bar for "french fries and coke" which we would chant out loud the whole way for no particular reason except that it made us laugh. While I lost track of Debbie when her family moved, I remain forever friends with Tina and I’m grateful to have someone in my life who knew the ‘mini me’, with whom I can laugh about how goofy we were, and how goofy we can still be.
In high school, friendships become our safe place amidst the turmoil of hormones and peer pressure. We clump together to feel some sense of belonging, even if our group was comprised of those who don’t fit in anywhere else. I recall my high school years as "social survival", and I found a lifejacket in my friend Karen who, with her wit and humor, made high school bearable. But as time moved on we did too. We attended different colleges and went our separate ways. Some friendships survive these changes and some do not. Sadly, ours was the latter, despite our sincere yearbook pledges to be forever friends. Still, my memories of high school will be forever intertwined with memories of Karen.
Entering the workforce, we spend the majority of our waking hours with the same group of people each day, developing strong bonds with those who share a similar point of view. My work buddies understand the absurdities of our business like no one else can. We shares hysterical inside jokes that would draw a blank stare from anyone else, eliciting some of the best belly laughs of my life- the kind so deep that it makes no sound, your eyes tear up and your stomach hurts. One April Fools Day I left my friend Ellen a message to call Mr. Roach at A-1 Exterminators to place an ad. It was the lamest joke I’ve ever pulled, but she fell for it, which cracks me up to this day. Our work relationships may or may not survive as we move on, but the best memories of my newspaper career will always be my co-workers who filled my workdays with humor, camraderie and sometime shenanigans.
Related to work friends are my ‘conference friends’ who work at newspapers around the country. I have seen them once a year for over 20 years, but the distance between us and our rare meetings do not hinder our friendship. I became especially close with Laura, and while making plans to visit with her in New Mexico I stated "You know me, I’m not a lot of work." To which she quickly responded "Yes I know you, and you are a lot of work, but its so endearing that you think you are not." We still laugh over the accuracy of her insight. It is a true friend that recognizes our idiosyncrasies and reflects them back as strengths rather than weaknesses.
I went full circle in the friendship loop when I joined the Wicked Running Club. Much like those kids at the pool, the concept is simple: "I’m a runner and so are you- let’s run together." The acceptance is unconditional, and all-inclusive. It doesn’t matter how old you. It doesn’t matter how fast you are. And it doesn’t matter what you do for work. All we need to have in common to be friends is our running, and the simplicity of that friendship in the midst of a complex world is refreshing, irreplaceable, and reminiscent of the fast friendship we forged as kids.
I could write pages and pages about friends I have had over the years, past and present, and for that I am grateful. While I can easily keep company on my own, that only makes my friendships more rewarding as they are based on choice, not need. Some friendships are forever, some we outgrow, and some we sadly outlive, but all are unique in helping us to discover those parts of ourselves recognizable only to a true friend.
Monday, June 22, 2009
We Are What We Wear
I’m staring at the person sitting across from me. Their lips are moving, but I can’t hear a word they are saying because I’m reading their shirt, which depicts a duck giving a rude gesture and the words ‘Ask me if I give a quack’. To put it into better context, this is a job interview and the person wearing this shirt is applying for a job… a customer service job. Although this was many years ago, I still remember how incredulous the applicant was when I told him I found his choice of clothing questionable. "No one will know what I’m wearing over the phone" he countered. "Ah, but you will." was my response.
The written word is a powerful thing, be it a newspaper, a heartfelt thank you note or the front of a shirt. And so it goes, wearing jewelry and clothing with a message sends a strong statement about who we are and what people can expect from us. And in that sense, we are what we wear.
Perhaps it is my English major background, but I have always had a penchant for clothing and jewelry with words on them, and still wear an original ‘Just Do It’ Nike tee I bought in college. That slogan was advertising genius, and gives me extra motivation for my weekend chores. How can I be lazy when the words JUST DO IT taunt me from my tee?
Even as I suspect I’m getting too old to wear clothing with words on them, I can’t resist adding to my collection. Just ask my fiancé, who has waited impatiently as I shop through stacks of witty wearables, reading them aloud as his eyes glaze over. Some of my favorites are ‘University of Wishful Thinking’, ‘Never, ever give up’, and a two sided tee that reads ‘consistency’ on the front and ‘longevity’ on the back. I also have several ‘be’ shirts (my initials) which read: ‘be.loved’, ‘be.involved’ and ‘be.you’. But my favorite is ‘Little Miss Sunshine’, because everyone who knows me gets the joke.
I also collect jewelry with words of inspiration. I have necklaces that read ‘believe’, ‘imagine’, ‘hope’ and ‘what you think you become’. My jewelry choice sets the intention for the day, and I recall that intention each time I check to be sure the clasp has not twisted to the front. The symbolism behind the message can change depending on the circumstance. Asked what my ‘imagine’ necklace means by a Boys & Girls Club member, I said, "Imagine how wonderful your life will be." When asked the same thing at work, the answer is "Imagine what we can achieve together." And both interpretations are true in their moment. My favorite necklace is an etched square with a star and the words ‘I wish I may’, conjuring up our wish upon a star childhood dreams when nothing seemed impossible.
I also received a beautiful bracelet as a gift when I ended my term as President of a newspaper organization. It is engraved with the words ‘Responsible, Productive, Caring’- an excerpt from the mission statement of the Boys & Girls Clubs of America. This gift sends so many positive messages that I can’t help but be inspired when I wear it.
Even our unconscious clothing choices can speak volumes about ourselves. On a vacation to a ranch in Arizona, I participated in a program that combined horseback riding with psychology, where our interactions with horses were meant to reveal inner truths. In our final session, participants sat in a circle and spilled their guts about the lessons they learned. I remained stoic and silent, feeling silly that I didn’t have the intense revelation expected of me. When I expressed this to the instructor, I was surprised when he softly asked "Would you say it was true that you were always picked last for schoolyard games, and never really felt wanted?" "Hmmm…why would you say that?" I asked suspiciously. "Because you waited to see which horses everyone else picked and went to the horse no one wanted." Good guess, I thought. He continued with "Would you say you struggle with your self esteem, and put everyone before yourself?" "Why would you think that?" I muttered uncomfortably. "Because you are wearing a shirt with the number 2 on it…" which sent the group into hysterics. And he was right, on all counts, right down to the unintended yet accurate statement the simple number 2 printed on my tank top made. Did I buy the shirt for that reason? Nope. Did I recognize the truth in the message when someone else pointed it out? I sure did.
So the question I ponder is, can we change the world’s perception of us by changing our clothing choices? Or does the true person inside shine through despite our best attempts at camouflage? The answer stares back at me from the bracelet on my wrist that simply reads, ‘be who you are’.
The written word is a powerful thing, be it a newspaper, a heartfelt thank you note or the front of a shirt. And so it goes, wearing jewelry and clothing with a message sends a strong statement about who we are and what people can expect from us. And in that sense, we are what we wear.
Perhaps it is my English major background, but I have always had a penchant for clothing and jewelry with words on them, and still wear an original ‘Just Do It’ Nike tee I bought in college. That slogan was advertising genius, and gives me extra motivation for my weekend chores. How can I be lazy when the words JUST DO IT taunt me from my tee?
Even as I suspect I’m getting too old to wear clothing with words on them, I can’t resist adding to my collection. Just ask my fiancé, who has waited impatiently as I shop through stacks of witty wearables, reading them aloud as his eyes glaze over. Some of my favorites are ‘University of Wishful Thinking’, ‘Never, ever give up’, and a two sided tee that reads ‘consistency’ on the front and ‘longevity’ on the back. I also have several ‘be’ shirts (my initials) which read: ‘be.loved’, ‘be.involved’ and ‘be.you’. But my favorite is ‘Little Miss Sunshine’, because everyone who knows me gets the joke.
I also collect jewelry with words of inspiration. I have necklaces that read ‘believe’, ‘imagine’, ‘hope’ and ‘what you think you become’. My jewelry choice sets the intention for the day, and I recall that intention each time I check to be sure the clasp has not twisted to the front. The symbolism behind the message can change depending on the circumstance. Asked what my ‘imagine’ necklace means by a Boys & Girls Club member, I said, "Imagine how wonderful your life will be." When asked the same thing at work, the answer is "Imagine what we can achieve together." And both interpretations are true in their moment. My favorite necklace is an etched square with a star and the words ‘I wish I may’, conjuring up our wish upon a star childhood dreams when nothing seemed impossible.
I also received a beautiful bracelet as a gift when I ended my term as President of a newspaper organization. It is engraved with the words ‘Responsible, Productive, Caring’- an excerpt from the mission statement of the Boys & Girls Clubs of America. This gift sends so many positive messages that I can’t help but be inspired when I wear it.
Even our unconscious clothing choices can speak volumes about ourselves. On a vacation to a ranch in Arizona, I participated in a program that combined horseback riding with psychology, where our interactions with horses were meant to reveal inner truths. In our final session, participants sat in a circle and spilled their guts about the lessons they learned. I remained stoic and silent, feeling silly that I didn’t have the intense revelation expected of me. When I expressed this to the instructor, I was surprised when he softly asked "Would you say it was true that you were always picked last for schoolyard games, and never really felt wanted?" "Hmmm…why would you say that?" I asked suspiciously. "Because you waited to see which horses everyone else picked and went to the horse no one wanted." Good guess, I thought. He continued with "Would you say you struggle with your self esteem, and put everyone before yourself?" "Why would you think that?" I muttered uncomfortably. "Because you are wearing a shirt with the number 2 on it…" which sent the group into hysterics. And he was right, on all counts, right down to the unintended yet accurate statement the simple number 2 printed on my tank top made. Did I buy the shirt for that reason? Nope. Did I recognize the truth in the message when someone else pointed it out? I sure did.
So the question I ponder is, can we change the world’s perception of us by changing our clothing choices? Or does the true person inside shine through despite our best attempts at camouflage? The answer stares back at me from the bracelet on my wrist that simply reads, ‘be who you are’.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
A Well Scheduled Life
"I can’t make it on December 3, I have something else scheduled that day." As I say the words, I look at my calendar book. Today is April 15. The receptionist on the other end is nonplused as she works to fit me in. It dawns on me this is nothing unusual for her. "Let me grab my 2010 calendar…" she says. Wait a minute, did she say 2010? How can I possibly "carpe diem" when I have an appointment pending for February 2010, and when did my life become so busy?
Truth is, I have been busy since the 1960’s. I just had different priorities. Instead of restructuring my department, I was building forts out of cardboard boxes. Instead of preparing dinner, I was baking cakes in my Easy Bake Oven. And instead of running to the drugstore to pickup a prescription, I was picking up a cherry coke and the latest issue of Tiger Beat magazine. Between stapling photos of Bobby Sherman and David Cassidy to my bedroom walls and lip synching to my 45 records, I was out straight!
In high school I was equally busy, juggling homework and babysitting with two jobs- one after school, and one at night. Fast forward to college, where I added a work study job to the mix, yet somehow found the energy to leave my waitress job at 11 p.m. to meet my friends at the "disco" before pulling an all-nighter cramming for a test the next day.
Enter the working world, where I still found it difficult to work just one job at a time. I held onto my waitress gig for years until one night when I was asked to wait on a large group, which turned out to be the owner of the newspaper where I was working as Classified Director and his family. As Oprah would say, that was my "aha" moment, and I quit that night. It was also the time I realized I could replace the time spent at my 2nd job with volunteer work, which would ultimately bring much greater benefits than a part time pay check.
Today, I volunteer on three different boards despite the heavy demands and long hours of my job. One year not too long ago in the "Perfect Storm" of volunteerism, I served as President of all three at the same time. Add a marathon or two a year to fill in the gaps, and there is barely a moment of the day that remains unscheduled. Oh wait, there is still some free time. Maybe I should write an article for the Salem Gazette.
While it appears crystal clear that there is something down deep in my soul that compels me to not let a wasted moment pass, my fantasy is a time when it will not always be so. I dream about slowing down and giving myself breathing room to separate what I want to do from what I feel compelled to do. I think about simplifying my life to the basics, then inviting back in those things I truly miss. But that is the nature of a fantasy- it is an illusion, not reality.
My reality is the bright pink calendar book, which still sits open as I wait on hold to find out where I need to be almost a year from now. It is full of appointments, plans and schedules. But it’s also full of hopes, dreams and promises to be kept.
On my refrigerator is this quote by Alfred D. Souza:
"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life."
And so it dawns on me now, these plans I have are my life. And my intention is to continue to live as full a life as I can cram into my hot pink calendar book pages.
Truth is, I have been busy since the 1960’s. I just had different priorities. Instead of restructuring my department, I was building forts out of cardboard boxes. Instead of preparing dinner, I was baking cakes in my Easy Bake Oven. And instead of running to the drugstore to pickup a prescription, I was picking up a cherry coke and the latest issue of Tiger Beat magazine. Between stapling photos of Bobby Sherman and David Cassidy to my bedroom walls and lip synching to my 45 records, I was out straight!
In high school I was equally busy, juggling homework and babysitting with two jobs- one after school, and one at night. Fast forward to college, where I added a work study job to the mix, yet somehow found the energy to leave my waitress job at 11 p.m. to meet my friends at the "disco" before pulling an all-nighter cramming for a test the next day.
Enter the working world, where I still found it difficult to work just one job at a time. I held onto my waitress gig for years until one night when I was asked to wait on a large group, which turned out to be the owner of the newspaper where I was working as Classified Director and his family. As Oprah would say, that was my "aha" moment, and I quit that night. It was also the time I realized I could replace the time spent at my 2nd job with volunteer work, which would ultimately bring much greater benefits than a part time pay check.
Today, I volunteer on three different boards despite the heavy demands and long hours of my job. One year not too long ago in the "Perfect Storm" of volunteerism, I served as President of all three at the same time. Add a marathon or two a year to fill in the gaps, and there is barely a moment of the day that remains unscheduled. Oh wait, there is still some free time. Maybe I should write an article for the Salem Gazette.
While it appears crystal clear that there is something down deep in my soul that compels me to not let a wasted moment pass, my fantasy is a time when it will not always be so. I dream about slowing down and giving myself breathing room to separate what I want to do from what I feel compelled to do. I think about simplifying my life to the basics, then inviting back in those things I truly miss. But that is the nature of a fantasy- it is an illusion, not reality.
My reality is the bright pink calendar book, which still sits open as I wait on hold to find out where I need to be almost a year from now. It is full of appointments, plans and schedules. But it’s also full of hopes, dreams and promises to be kept.
On my refrigerator is this quote by Alfred D. Souza:
"For a long time it had seemed to me that life was about to begin - real life. But there was always some obstacle in the way, something to be gotten through first, some unfinished business, time still to be served, or a debt to be paid. Then life would begin. At last it dawned on me that these obstacles were my life."
And so it dawns on me now, these plans I have are my life. And my intention is to continue to live as full a life as I can cram into my hot pink calendar book pages.
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