The Eclectic Writer

I Wonder...

A friend posted on her Facebook page this morning that she "is wondering."

I thought this was marvelous.

Wondering, as I commented back to her, is quite underrated and underappreciated these days. But when you think about it, what a perfect activity to participate in. At the same time, it is childlike and sage-like. The act of wondering causes us to pause and think, what if? as well as it's counter, what if not? Hamlet wondered if it were better to be or not to be? Perhaps his wondering didn't produce the best results for him, but the act of wondering gave the character one of the most memorable soliloqies written by one of our most revered writers of all time. Something worth pondering.

Wondering provides us a chance to look at our lives and think about the course we're on. Are we heading in the direction we want to go in? Is it time to pull into a rest area and take wondering to the next level to figure things out? Are we on the path to reach our goals and dreams? Do our goals and dreams make sense to us anymore, or did we somewhere along the way stop wondering and start only doing what we think we should be doing?

On summer days, before the craziness of fall and the holidays begins, it's a great time to wonder. While the economy is still in an uproar and headlines are sensational and there seems no sense in the world as we know it, the time might be right to look inside our own lives and wonder. Pull away from the stuff out there and think only about ourselves and our families and wonder what we'd like to be doing five years from now. The world is in quite a transformational state right now and, frankly, the only thing we have in our control is a sense of wonder that can lead to a destiny we choose. Better than waiting for a seemingly wonderless world to figure it out for us.

RIP to the World of Darkness

I received sad news from the Bronx Zoo today. In its July/August 2009 newsletter to members, the zoo informs us that it is "restructuring to ensure that we keep our 114-year-old institution strong on conservation and our parks the best places to bring your chldren and families." This wretched economy! Although the zoo continues to create new exhibits, part of the restructuring is the closing of World of Darkness, the round brown building that stood behind the entry to the African Plains and in front of Asia. Though World of Darkness could never be pinpointed on a global map like those other continents, it was a special destination unto itself.

Walking through the doors, your eyes took a moment to adjust to the sudden loss of light. But as you moved through the darkness, unsure whether you were about to knock into a railing or another zoo visitor, your eyes adjusted and you'd begin to see movement in the night. How fascinating to see the creatures that gracefully slip through the evening's blackness. Creatures with extra big eyes to allow more light in so they could see.

My favorite inhabitants of the World of Darkness were these desert cats. I cannot recall their real name, but they looked exactly like a household tabby yet made their homes in the wilds of the desert, prowling back and forth across the dunes behind the safety of the exhibit glass. Out of all the residents of that building, the cats stand out most in my memory.

I suppose I love the World of Darkness unconditionally as far as zoo exhibits go. I recall it was one of my favorites when I visited the Taronga Park Zoo in Sydney.  Something about worlds that exist outside of my own. That life continues even after the lights go out. That we must trust that living creatures can survive and thrive in an environment that brings us fear and uncertainty.

We happened to make a visit to the Bronx Zoo during our April vacation. As it turns out, the World of Darkness closed its doors to the light of the outside world soon after. According to the newsletter, the animals have been relocated to other exhibits within the zoo, to some of the city zoos, and other insitutions that "meet or exceed the guidelines of accredited institutions in the Associations of Zoos and Aquariums." Which means when we pay our visit to the Roger Williams Zoo in a few weeks, or stop in on other zoos across the country, we may run into some familiar friends.

Rest in Peace, World of Darkness. You helped shine light on other worlds so we could see, learn, and discover.

Editorial Diary

Summer has officially started and I continue the major project of my life begun last year. I am cleaning out the house.

I've realized that to truly make progress I must throw things away. For many people this is a no-brainer. However for me it's a challenge. I like to collect things. For me, they become like a visual diary. Sorting through toys, pictures, piles of stuff takes me back in time. And thanks to a right-brain that sometimes goes into emotional overdrive, I swear I can feel, smell, hear, sense everything that happened around those items. For example, the play kitchen handed down from my sister's kids with their names etched in crayon on the sides. Two of those children just graduated from high school, the other left today for her camp counser position. My kids had hours of fun with that same kitchen. I can see all of them in my mind during the past fifteen years playing with that kitchen, pretending to cook scrambled eggs, serving up dessert on yellow plastic toy plates the size of a frosting lid.

But as a writer one of the most dense, space consuming things I collect are magazines. There are certain issues and particular articles that struck me at a point in my life where what was written made sense or inspired me. For example, I just found the copy of USA Today with the article about a Washington D.C. femme fatale who published a book based on her blog. When this came out several years ago nobody had ever heard of blogs! But I remember thinking that this is something I should pay attention to, and my first novel began to take shape - on a blog.

What is truly interesting, too, is to trace back through magazine covers how quickly times have changed during the past couple of years regarding our economic stability and lifestyles. Not long ago covers headlined stories about "Retire Now" and "Get Rich and Live." Magazines heralded that anyone could make a lucrative living on the web, even teenagers.

Normally I would find it difficult to toss most of these magazines. But as I see how quickly times have changed, I realize that yesterday's news is just that. For everyone these are times when it might be worth it to clean out what we perceived to be reality just months ago and instead of holding on to that memory look ahead to the future and deal with the present. We can't base life only on what we read. Maybe it's time to start living again and moving forward through the experiences we share.

15 Words That Capture Fatherhood

"Any man can be a Father but it takes someone special to be a dad." -- Anne Geddes

Happy Father's Day to all the dad out there. I found it interesting as a searched for a quote how many that were listed about fathers had such stereotypic references to them -- banker, patriarch, rule maker, disciplinarian. But I believe in just fifteen words, Anne Geddes says it all.

Bangling Out Some Thoughts About Social Media

"There's a complete lack of the inner critic, a complete lack of editing. Everything is out there all the time. There's no mystery. I don't think I want the world to know my innermost thoughts."

-Vicki Peterson of the Bangles, talking about social media during a recent interview

Yup, I was a Bangles fan back in the 80's. I even performed a slightly offkey remake of "Walk Like An Egyptian" in one of the first record your own record booths at some amusement park. To give you an idea of how long ago, I brought home the recording on a cassette tape.

Vicki makes a point I've been pondering a lot lately, professionally and personally. What about all this social media? What about this way people are communicating with one another daily in cyberspace?

The online world has exploded onto the scene in a very short time. Here's an example. When I marched to officially receive my M.F.A. degree just one year ago I shared the news via an email to my friends and colleagues. I wrote a few posts about it on this blog and even scanned some old college graduation pictures and posted for fun. Simple, to the point, here's what's happening in my  life.

This year I followed preparations, cap and gown pickups, photos, and fun stories with the next class via their Facebook postings. I knew moment to moment if they were in their cars en route to campus, when they were leaving their homes for the ceremony, or when they were sitting at their desks, blank word document in front of them, thinking now what?

Technology has given us an important tool to link together in a global world. Reconnecting with people can be fun, networking online can be productive, and the web certainly gives us writers a way to get our words read (or at least more control over the process.)

But it's the self-editing part of Peterson's remarks I hone in on and the observation that everything is out there all the time. I notice so many people spending time on Facebook, taking quizzes that tell them more about themselves than a Meyers-Briggs test. However, more often I see that one person has taken several or more in a row. I know where they want to vacation, what they like to eat, who they want to be like, what body part is their least favorite...and the list goes on.

What I pay attention to most with social media is that the quantity of information exchanged often remains out of any personal context. While it is fun and can be a valuable tool, it can also become a crutch, a way for people to stay hidden behind a computer screen and forget that sometimes it's okay to pick up a telephone or say hello to a friend. That sometimes it's good to pick up valuable customer input from the web but it's still a good idea to shop in a store and interact with people as they purchase your products. That whether or not other people care, maybe it's okay to keep it quiet as to whether you are more like Kermit or Miss Piggy or Elmo.

Like anything, social media in moderation can be a very good thing. But when people start to tap out their lives on a keyboard instead of living them, that could be a sign of disaster looming.

Life Cycles

I took my 11-year-old, soon-to-be 6th grader and her friend to a birthday party last evening. The girls, including the birthday girl, have known each other since daycare. As we drove to the party, the two girls huddled in the back seat over Alex' cell phone (my daughter does not own one yet, thank goodness.) Who were they texting? The birthday girl. After picking them up and heading home, again whispers, giggles, and huddling as they texted back and forth with - who this time? - the birthday girl!

Yesterday was kindergarten graduation and many of our friends, whose youngest were new to the elementary scene this year, marched to a pre-recorded "pomp and circumstance." Weren't they just babies last summer?

We're off to the high school graduation party for my college roommate's daughter - not the first one to hit the milestone, but the second child to be college-bound! Their first-born interned with me this spring. She'll be a junior next year and is already focused on career. The last looks like he should already be in college, but has a couple more years. He knows already which schools he'll apply to.

My nephews went to their senior prom last evening. Yes, twins. I still remember the day I held them and they first looked up at my face and recognized me. Given their busy lives it's not like it will seem that different they are not around as much, but it will be different.

Every morning when my 8-year-old boy wakes up he stands on his bed, wraps his arms around my shoulders, and I carry him to the family room. My husband can't believe I still do this. However there is a reason behind this ritual. One day very soon I will no longer be able to lift him up and hold him. I will no longer be able to feel his arms and legs wrapped around me, hugging me tight. He will simply be too big. I know that day is coming - probably before summer ends and I don't want to miss it.

I remember when this happened with my daughter. It seemingly occurred overnight. I didn't expect it. It took me offguard. I had to work my brain over and over again to recall her warmth, her embrace, her hair tickling my cheek. She is my first-born and nobody told me they grow up so fast. That the little things you take for granted move along very quickly. Yes, they're replaced quickly by other fascinating, wonderful things; and some not quite to easy to transition to. But life moves on, whether we want it to or not.

Sharing the Experience of Uncertainty

I just got off the phone with a friend who is anxiously waiting to hear back on a position she's favorably interviewed for but has not yet received an offer. While typing this entry, a Facebook update popped up on my email from another friend sharing that she has finally been served divorce papers from her soon-to-be ex (however, I sense this is GOOD news.) I myself have been feeling a bit uncentered these days - lots of irons in the fire, but picking the one that will stoke the most coals still alludes me.

Lately I've been realizing what changing times we are experiencing. A sure sign that the recession will drag on quite a bit further is when the news feeders begin to run out of clever headlines to keep economic woes fresh. That's when I know we're comfortably settled into a period of unsettling unknowingness.

Although I find myself on a roller coaster of wild ups and downs during these uncertain times, I find life is no more or less complicated than it is for most other people I know. There is something strangely comforting in this. Somehow it doesn't make the ride less scary, but you know that at some point it will end and you'll all disembark, perhaps a bit shaky, but intact and ready for the next thrill.

As I talk to people, or coach or speak with them professionally, I sense we're all not necessarily adjusting as much to the economy as we are to the uncertainty. Many of the expectations we've developed over the years, particulary the past 10-15, have skewed our views of normalcy. We now have to be patient, we no longer sense we have as much control over our destinies (at least short term,) and we have to make decisions and choices that meet short term needs and somehow stay upbeat about future plans. Not easy to do.

My best advice, something so doable and inexpensive you'll be amazed, is to reach out to friends just to say hello; don't be afraid to confide in a friend that you need their help, even if it's an ear to listen; and take time to just get together, share a cup of coffee, and catch up on things.

The recession is tough. It stinks. Many of us are moving forward with blindfolds on, or at least with slits we're barely able to see through. But one of the best things to come out of it so far is to have a little more time to be human, to connect with our friends, to remember what it means to give each other support.

Let's face it. When the ride ends, many of us will head to different rides for our next thrills. But in the meantime, we can treat the coming months like a day in the park, a chance to experience our friendships in a way we perhaps haven't in too long a time.

Happy Mother's Day

" 'Mother' has always been a generic term synonymous with love, devotion, and sacrifice. There's always been something mystical and reverent about them. They're the Walter Cronkites of the human race . . . infallible, virtuous, without flaws and conceived without original sin, with no room for ambivalence."
 
-Erma Bombeck

Read my blog post about a Mother's Greatest Gift on TravelingMom.com . And have a wonderful, magical Mother's Day.

Call It What It Is

It happened - again- this morning. Telephone rings. Answer it. "Hello, Mrs. Witkavitch?" Right there, I know I'm not going to like this call. I've kept my maiden name. The "Mrs." is a giveaway, along with the fact they butcher my name. This is is a solicitation call.

The woman identifies herself as calling on behalf of a non profit. "But this is not a call to ask for a donation," she says right away, no doubt to keep me from hanging up the telephone. Yet as she goes on reciting her script, it is very clear that her request is for a donation - of time and, yes, in a roundabout way, money. She wants me to personally place a letter requesting monetary donations in my neighbors' mailboxes.

I've got a few issues with this. First, do not assume the only donations that matter are those with a monetary value. If you are asking me to do something, you are asking for my time. And my time is valuable. No organization should undervalue people's time when they are looking for help.

Second, asking me to solicit my neighbors for donations is so 1970's. Back then this type of activity meant something because we knew most of our neighbors and they knew we were involved with the organizations we represented. Since the evolution of direct marketing, trying to disguise solicitations as a neighborly endeavor backfires. I can confidentally tell you that whether my personal handwritten request is on a donation slip or not won't make a bit of difference in my neighborhood.

Third, I really take offense when organizations with no connection to me interrupt my Saturday morning with a scripted request for something they say they aren't asking for. It actually leaves me with a bad impression of the organization. I do, in fact, donate money and time to many causes I believe in or have known a family member or friend who has benefitted directly from the organization. There are so many good causes and, sadly, we all must be selective because we can't do it all. However, I am convinced that if everyone did their share we would collectively make a difference.

I have always been a big believer in giving back. But I think changing things, making a difference, isn't about solicitation calls. It's a combination of education, it's building a community of support, it's finding ways to raise money and awareness to help a cause.

I understand times are tough and organizations are scrambling to raise the dollars they need. But calling people with whom you have no connection with and making a sales pitch, in my opinion, doesn't cut it.

Choosing Kindness and Compassion

I checked in on The Eclectic Writer this morning and surprisingly found she's been remiss in delivering regular posts to her readers. What can I tell you? I've taken a bit of a side trip on my personal and professional journey and been spending a lot of time, not all of it easy or pleasant, sorting through and getting myself to the next leg of these travels.

I can coach anyone that these plateaus, these periods of self-doubt we experience when going after a dream or a goal, are the precursors to a major breakthrough. I can even self-talk the same motivational speech and believe it, trust in it. But going through the process can be tough, especially when every headline heralds doom and gloom in order to sell newspapers, grab viewer share, or get hits online. The world seems paralyzed by its present challenges and can't seem to glimpse ahead to a better future, which inevitably will come just as eventually spring will arrive in New England and the snow that sticks stubbornly to the ground will be gone until next year. Assuredly spring will arrive sooner than our economy becomes stable. But cycles continue, change is constant, what is today will be something different tomorrow.

But human spirit is always there, and what we do with it is our choice. In that spirit of optimism, I must share with you a wonderful story that was posted on Prill Boyle's Defying Gravity blog last Wednesday. The excerpt is from the New York Times Metropolitan Diary section dated Monday, March 2nd. This is well worth the minute it will take to read it.

Dear Diary:

(This is a true story. It took place in Sheepshead Bay this winter.)

In Dunkin' Donuts this morning,
an old lady wearing a tattered watch cap
started speaking to no one in particular.
"I can't sleep at night.
I have pains in my chest all the time.
My leg hurts and my children do not love me."
People waiting in line
hid in their cellphones, looked away
or stared straight ahead.
"I don't know what to do.
I don't know where to turn.
My husband died two years ago on the 27th."
Everyone pretended she wasn't there.
The girls behind the counter took the next customers.
The line inched forward. At a side table, a beautiful young lady
with matching purple scarf and hat
looked at the old woman and said, simply,
"Honey, please sit down with me,
and tell me your story."

It's possible, you see,
for one person to save the world.

--Mel Glen