Beware of Bloggers, and Other Success Warnings

Recently I witnessed two prominent blogs, each followed by several thousand readers, cause disturbing ripples across the blogging community.

Although I’m fairly new to this arena, I did have contact with both of these bloggers, but it was minimal, and so I watched the dramas unfold from the safety of the periphery.  Nonetheless, it left me unsettled and a little disconcerted.

Writing gifOne of the blog-sites fully imploded due to revelations of wide-spread improprieties toward other bloggers that included bullying, coercion and sexual harassment. That site’s owner/writer ended up closing down that blog and all its associated webpages, but it had run for quite a long time prior because the harassed had been intimidated into silence.  The other had to deal with a very strong backlash regarding a post in which he called out another blogger as less than worthy of public acclaim.  This one also closed, but only temporarily, presumably to lick wounds and regroup.

In both cases, regardless of how much damning proof there was, there remained for both of these bloggers a strong base of supporters who were willing to excuse and even completely overlook the accusations toward these, their heroes, and for many, their  ‘on-line friends’.

In retaliation of the revelations, these supporters were also more than willing to demonstrate their solidarity by writing the victims and/or injured parties and their followers to demean and belittle them and the charges, some even issuing threats. This is a pretty strong example of when people don’t like to admit they’ve made a mistake – especially about someone they look up to. Especially one that questions, “Was I a sucker”?

Each case reminded me of the often repeated cautionary tales that we speak to our kids about when it comes to internet usage – whom to associate with and what we choose to post online.  It also reminded me that we have to re-think how we make heroes out of appearances of success.

In the blogging world, a successful following and  wider readership is attained through, in large part, making mutual blogging contacts and following each other’s work,  but like our warnings to our children, we also need to be more discerning about with whom we choose to support and associate.

In the pursuit of success, we too often, and easily, make heroes out of those we see as triumphant.  We hope to be able to tag onto their success and open opportunities for ourselves.  At least, that’s how it supposed to work and really, that’s how the world has gone around forever.  However, applauding success doesn’t require falling down in worship.

The last few weeks have served as a tough reminder to many of us to remember to be responsible for what we say publicly, or be willing to take full responsibility for the results, and it is also a reminder to behave; act with decent propriety and respect.

In the interest of general face-saving and self-preservation, we should also pay attention to that old adage of listening to our gut.  Follow our heart in what we want to say, but definitely pay attention when our Spidey senses start tingling while we’re writing, reading, or in a discussion.  Let’s face it, in this realm, we really don’t know who we are be-friending. If we back-off from something that feels wrong, that’s a win.  Maybe we will miss out on a chance to step up a notch, but it’s far more likely that there will still be plenty of opportunities to grow.

The last thought I took away from all these events, is yes,yes, yes it is OK to stand up for yourself, respectfully, when you’ve been wronged.  Even in the blogosphere, no one is too big to have to own up to bad behavior.

RL

Party Prep is Not For the Weak, And Friends Lie

maxine tip 2

A simple click on the pic will let you see them.

Hell hath no fury like the eyes of a host expecting guests.  They see EVER-Y-THING EVER-Y-WHERE.  They flood the entire house with the damning light of the unclean.  Condemned is the rosy glow of procrastination that normally allows one to see cobwebs as merely billowing indoor clouds – just a step closer to communing with nature really.

I am acutely struck by those evil eyes mostly on an annual basis, when I host a gathering in the New Year.  I love finally being able to get together with many friends and bask in their good humor and kinship. They are wonderful, wonderful people, but they LIE.  They LIE like my (dog hair-covered) front door rug.

maxine dusting hintNormally, my day-to-day entails apologizing for my clutter, and my other typical landfill mounds.  In reply, my friends say things like, “Oh we never have time to clean either, or who cares about a clean house, there’s so much more to life that is far more important”.  A credo I actually believe in; a credo that I know I honestly uphold – alone.

All these able members of the Liars Club have homes ready for a photo shoot in B H and G at the drop of a paper towel.   Pop in on them, regardless of the time of day or day of the week, and you’ll be invited in to have a chat and sit on pristine seats atop the shiniest floors in the universe. These are the real reflected lights in the sky at night. 

Maxine Super Bowl tipI cringe at every realization that I could rarely, to never, reciprocate that invitation.  I am the queen of doorstep conversation.  “Hey, how’d you like to have a seat on that outside chair right there, on the outside of the house, and I’ll get us a drink for here, outside”.  I wonder if they notice?   Of course they do.  Then they go home and re-shine their floors just to spite me.

So, while the thought floats gently through my screams dreams that it really could be interesting to hold a front yard party in early January Canada, I grudgingly accept that I‘d never get the grass raked in time.  Thus, I rush to appease these eyes of damnation.  I fly from one end of the house to the other with cleanser and polish to head off any possible ugh! moment for a guest. 

As I work through all that anticipatory contact, I spy something odd, even for me. Wait…is that… plum pudding on the blinds??!!  But, but we didn’t have plum pudding this year.  Oh my God.  OK kids, new goal:  Clean all the dirt that guests might recognize from last year!

While we’re scrambling to meet new achievements, I picture my friends discussing their impending visit to my mess O’ horrors: 

  • “Um, so, Robyn’s invitation has arrived again…. And?  Well, she is our friend so let’s try our best to enjoy this as much as possible while looking only directly into each other’s eyes”.
  •  “Well, this year I’m putting the hazmat suit on under my clothes.  There is no way I’ll be able to smile this year while I feel a glob of plum pudding stuck to my thigh”.
  • “OK, let’s re-do our plan from last year to drink as much as possible to get through the mess evening and maybe even to…. forget”.
  • “Hey, maybe we can invite her out next year”.

Hey!  I’ve been invited out three times this year.  Was that…. ?  Stop it! Go test the martini potency, and then get back to work!

Somehow, in the midst of these mental meanderings and the frantic efforts of Thing 1 and Thing 2  (me and child), the house started to resemble something like the original intentions of the architect.

Maxine-On-CleaningEventually we got to an understanding.  Actually, more like simple resignation – what will be, will be. Whatever else we may spy gets a quick kick under the couch.  The rest of the prep plan is fairly simple – take off the apron, smooth down the hair, and do a sock check for dog hair on the baseboards. Last, but not least, turn down the lights and light up the candles.  Nothing says, what spot on the wall? like mood lighting. 

Then I will employ the ultimate mood lightener  – martinis.  I’ll take their coats with one hand, and plop a glass in their hand in one smooth motion.  I’ll keep the pitcher handy and refill often. Non-drinkers will get over-stuffed with plenty of fresh plum pudding. Even if they do notice a spot on the wall at some point, the odds are pretty good that they won’t care.  At least not until next year’s invitation arrives.  

Cheers to livin’ la vida loca 2014.

RL

The Question That Changed My Entire Life

I was twenty-nine and about to enter my second mid-life crisis, (the first one was at twenty-one – but that’s another story). As I took stock of my life I knew I was free-falling into the stereotypical void of meaninglessness.  My world was focused on making money and projecting the right image.

At the time I was working in the finance industry as a finance broker; it left a lot to be desired in the soul side of life.  While I enjoyed the benefits of decent pay, and a closet full of great shoes, it didn’t fill much in the fulfillment soles. (Ya see what I did there?)

How things looked was a top priority for the industry goals. It was fairly regularly preached that the need to look successful was imperative. The required image included  job title, personal appearance, home, and contacts.

I remember one well-meaning colleague seriously imploring me to buy a car that was, at a minimum, the oldest model of a Mercedes that I could afford rather than a brand new Toyota.  That was far more conducive to achieving that highly desired image.  Pointing out the obvious differences in comfort levels for me netted a baleful stare of incredulous disbelief in my sanity.  That was pretty much as deep as life was.

Falling Girl, by Scott Sona Snibbe

It was about that time that I really started to question the point of life and my purpose within it.  Not long after, I came across a magazine article that lit an inner spark.  Considering the importance it was to play in my life, I can’t believe the title escapes me. Anyway, it was about the question, the one that literally began the turn-over of  my life:

“When you die, what do you want people to say about you at the service”?

I sat back and sifted through all the tributes I could remember.  The ones that I recalled most were those folks who were spoken about with great respect and even reverence for what they gave to the world, and the grace with which they lived.  That’s how I wanted to be remembered too.

Then the next sentence simply said, “Now go make those words real”.

It gave me immediate focus.  What I at least realized then, was that what I wanted to be became less important than what kind of person did I want to be. It was a general goal, but it offered seemingly thousands of possibilities. A huge weight of dejection was replaced with a huge light of hope.

It led me to know that I had finally found my soul, but I was in an industry that didn’t have one.  I knew it would soon be time to move on. My questions of how were answered as my perception and approaches evolved. Many opportunities came my way as a result.

My eventual path started, and startled, with a variety of unexpected voluntary roles from ambulance attendant (never saw that coming),  to board director for policing support. I got the chance to write for pay, and eventually, ran a fundraising foundation for a regional cancer research and treatment centre  (worst job ever, but that’s another story).

The point is that it doesn’t matter where you start from, you only need to change how you see things. Look inward and around at what you have at hand.  Be thankful for at least that much, then look for ways that it can be used to help someone or something else – especially at those times when you feel least able. I can only ask you to trust me on that, but it would be more useful for you to try it once or twice.

I’ve seen it start out in simple ways like the guy finally able to say the words, “I was wrong”, and another who started a food bank drive at the company she worked for.

I can see it being things like starting a business or charity to help whatever need in your heart, or a finance industry that encourages genuine savings by offering genuinely decent saving account interest rates.  It’s never too late to change direction, after all, all it is, is changing your mind about what you need.

R.I.P. Me

R.I.P. becomes Live more in Peace

How do we want to be remembered?  The advice was simple, on the face of it, but the results took me to wondrous places that I had no idea I wanted to be. It’s a bit scary for me to try to imagine now what my world might have been if I hadn’t had that magazine intervention.

One last word on this advice, a meaningful life isn’t perfect either – far from it.  The only perfect expectation is embracing the knowledge that our best work is about giving the best we have at the moment.

So think about your end for a bit, and then go live up to your service.  Works for me so far. Usually.

RL

Written in reply to the WordPress weekly writing challenge: What’s the best, or worst, piece of advice you’ve ever gotten?

http://dailypost.wordpress.com/2013/10/28/weekly-writing-challenge-dear-abby/

Thanks Bloggers, I’ve Fallen and I Can’t Get Up!

frantic writer

Arrrrgh!  I am falling behind in my own writing and I can’t get up.  It’s entirely your fault!  Yes you, you fellow bloggers.  I have been catching up on your writing.  I follow a great number of blogs, but only because a great many of you are great writers!

I frantically flip through the humorists while scarfing down my favorite yogurt and fruit in the morning.  You are funny as hell, by the way.  I read the short fiction stories while I scarf down a quick lunch – wow, if only I had half of that creativity. While contemplating my son’s requests for later bed times and higher allowance, I read the thoughtful musings on everything from parenting to how we view ourselves, to what really burns someone’s butt.  Thanks for the respective reassurances, great ideas, and food for thought.  It goes on and on from there, and I stand transfixed while dinner burns.

I wonder if I’ve fallen into some kind of wordy Alice trap – navigating through mazes and mazes of great advice, ideas, creativity and interesting and thought provoking opinions and situations.  I think I should be inspired by all of this, but I somehow come away feeling — empty. My mind is the storied black hole. Am I intimidated too much by so much goodness?  Have I morphed from a ‘journaling’ addict to a comparative reading junkie?

So much to see, so much to learn, and I know I still have opinions and thoughts of my own aplenty.  I just don’t seem to be able to string them into a reasonable string of sentences that will eventually make a point.

WordPress itself tries to help me with all their daily great suggestions and writing tip prompts.  Great ideas WP and I will get to those, maybe right after I catch just this latest post from Ned.  And You’ve Been Hooked, and Twisted Sifter, and Gotta Find A Home….  Arrrrghh….

So, uh, anyone got any good tips?

RL

Our Home and Native Braves

Andrea Hotomanie, Principal, Glenda Speight, Constable Erin McAvoy

Andrea Hotomanie, Principal, Glenda Speight, Constable Erin McAvoy

As Remembrance Day approaches, I am reminded of how profoundly I was moved by the Remembrance Day assembly at my son’s school last year. I found it particularly poignant for two reasons.

What I found initially striking was that the ceremony was presided over by all women, something I’d never seen before.  They were school Principal, Glenda Speight, RCMP Constable Erin McAvoy, impressive in her Red Serge, and Andrea Hotomanie, the district Aboriginal Support Worker.

Andrea Hotomanie was the second reason of note.  She stood up in recognition of the First Nations who serve and have served in the Canadian Military. She wore a magnificent button blanket around her shoulders.  It was the first time I had seen this kind of inclusion at any school remembrance assembly.  It brought me to tears.

It moved me so deeply because it was the first time I felt my grandfather and uncles included in these remembrances in a way that they hadn’t before.  It brought them, Cree warriors from Northern Alberta, faded from history for so many decades, up to the front too.  I felt they were being honored for the first time as servicemen and not as guests in the back of my mind, while all the other heroes were noted up on the screens and in the speeches. Between Andrea’s presence and my son nearby, this acknowledgement brought it all fully home to my heart.

All those many years ago, there was never any doubt that at least three of my uncles would join the military from the time that, as young boys, they stared admiringly at the one photo of my grandfather in his uniform until they were all signed up and fitted into their own.

photo compilation by Robyn LawsonAlong with pride of nation and reverence for the uniform, there was another underlying and stirring reason to join up. Uncle Philip finally expressed it after I asked him why he always declared that his favorite job was being in the Canadian forces.  He said, “Respect”.  While he wore that uniform, it was the first time in his life that he was treated with honest to God respect, and it didn’t matter where he was in the world.  It was his greatest time of honor and pride.  I can’t say so for my grandfather or the other uncles, but I suspect they felt much the same.

Their presence at the Remembrance Day assembly that day was palpable to me, and I have no doubt that they were all there in full uniform.

There is a lot of history about Indigenous participation in the military and the details are available more than ever.  I would encourage anyone to look up that history sometime for some very interesting and enlightening reading.

For now, I would just like to say thank you to my family for their courage.  We will always be proud.  We will always remember.

In remembrance of:

Private John Joseph Baptiste Gray – WW1

Private John Joseph Baptiste Gray – WW1

Private Frank Joseph Gray – WW2

Private Frank Joseph Gray – WW2

Philip Gray Military Photo

Private Philip Sanford Gray – Korea

Private Larry Alexander Gray – Canadian post, Quebec

Private Larry Alexander Gray – Canadian post, Quebec

To an old friend serving in Afghanistan, Deputy Chief of Staff, John Valtonen, as always, thank you, and stay safe.

RL

readers digest logoOur Home and Native Braves was published October 30, 2013 on the Reader’s Digest community website:  http://www.readersdigest.ca/our-canada/community-blog/our-home-and-native-braves

Recommended link for Native military history:
A Commemorative History of Aboriginal People in the Canadian Military:
http://www.cmp-cpm.forces.gc.ca/dhh-dhp/pub/boo-bro/abo-aut/index-eng.asp