It's important to me to keep my blog appointments - especially when I have something to say. And that's the only reason I'm doing this at 11:20PM. I have a few ideas that I've penciled in my handy notebook. However, I believe a better time to address any of them, would be in the next post - all being well.
Until November 30, 2010, I will remain caught up in the NaNoWriMo challenge. Just a couple more days to go; just a few thousand words to go. I've sent my mom and a sis a first-read copy. Hmm. Think I might put a few of those ideas on ice and, in the next post, talk about the amazing and ability-discovering adventure that this novel-writing challenge has turned out to be!
My! Who would've thunk it?
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
Sunday, 28 November 2010
Thursday, 18 November 2010
Three questions about being “in the know”
(Talking about the individual here – not businesses/organizations.)
When was the last time you were online - not counting right now? How much time do you spend online everyday? If your job requires it, totally understood. If it doesn’t, how much time would you say you dedicate to surfing or communicating or researching? My guess is, a heck of a lot. (Not very scientific but, you get it.)
Imagine a day away from any Internet connection. You might still have your laptop because, like me, you just have to keep writing, having taken up the #NaNoWriMo challenge. But, I’m talking about no net! Now, what would you do on that day? (Without, you know, tearing out your hair or biting your nails the whole time.) How would you spend your day? Could you possibly enjoy it - especially if you were not on vacation?
DO I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING?
Between the Internet and the innumerable media houses – including electronic and print – there is the foreboding feeling that I have to know everything! “They” try to convince me that I simply must know what is happening in every country in every field with every head of state, celebrity and their children and friends and followers!!! And if I don’t know, then, to the rest of those who are riding this train, I am totally off track. "They" wouldn’t let me near an “intelligent” conversation.
But, like, seriously? All those sites that we surf and channels we skip and pages we flip through, what if we should consciously take in everything being thrown at us?! Jeesh! My heads feels heavy just thinking about it.
So, no, I don’t need to know everything. Certainly not that the couple showers together twice a day. No, wait! Let's see just how much info our Agenda-Setting media, who won't be bested by any ol' Tom, Dick or Harry with a cellphone, will be pushing down our throats about the royal-wedding-to-be! Sick of it yet? I think the sensationalism of "commoner weds royalty" has been downright diluted because, well, we've been through the Charles&Camilla saga. No lesson learnt from the hounding of Lady Di? What gives? And that was a time when information sharing, compared to today's real-time, was still in the Stone Age. No matter how glamorous some make it sound; no matter how sensational; no matter how cute; no matter no matter no matter. I do not necessarily need to know. I do not want to be consumed by it all and lose myself in the process. So, I choose. And I live with the consequences of those choices.
DO I NEED TO KNOW WHAT I THINK I NEED TO KNOW, NOW?
And what of those things that I do need to know. (Not even the “I’d like to know.” We’ve skipped past that. For some semblance of guidance on it, see above and apply as required.) But those things I need to know? How bad is the world going to turn out if I don’t get the news the very second it falls? I mean, really, can’t they wait? Well, in truth, some of them really can’t but, a good deal of them sure can! And that right there is a part of the issue. It has got that much more difficult, with the advent of info at the touch of so many buttons on so many instruments, to determine, beforehand, what is urgent and what isn’t. Not until you retrieve the info you know you needed, and thought you needed now, do you realise that, y’know? It could have waited.
AM I MISSING SOMETHING?
What am I missing while spending an inordinate and egregious amount of time online – in any shape, size or form? Life. Well, a chunk of it, anyway. Won’t know how much until later on, I can just feel it. Better shape up now, then. I did say “inordinate and egregious.” Because being online and in the hub of information hubs has become a part of the way we live. So, there’s no getting away from that. We’ve created this monster and now have been conditioned to feed it in order for us to sort of live without the stress we would not have had in the first place, had we not gone (this far) down this road. (And we will be going farther).
Here’s to those of us who maintain solid, healthy, beautiful offline relationships with people that we can hug and kiss and smile with and sing to every so often. Peace, beauty, happiness and love to you!
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
When was the last time you were online - not counting right now? How much time do you spend online everyday? If your job requires it, totally understood. If it doesn’t, how much time would you say you dedicate to surfing or communicating or researching? My guess is, a heck of a lot. (Not very scientific but, you get it.)
Imagine a day away from any Internet connection. You might still have your laptop because, like me, you just have to keep writing, having taken up the #NaNoWriMo challenge. But, I’m talking about no net! Now, what would you do on that day? (Without, you know, tearing out your hair or biting your nails the whole time.) How would you spend your day? Could you possibly enjoy it - especially if you were not on vacation?
DO I NEED TO KNOW EVERYTHING?
Between the Internet and the innumerable media houses – including electronic and print – there is the foreboding feeling that I have to know everything! “They” try to convince me that I simply must know what is happening in every country in every field with every head of state, celebrity and their children and friends and followers!!! And if I don’t know, then, to the rest of those who are riding this train, I am totally off track. "They" wouldn’t let me near an “intelligent” conversation.
But, like, seriously? All those sites that we surf and channels we skip and pages we flip through, what if we should consciously take in everything being thrown at us?! Jeesh! My heads feels heavy just thinking about it.
So, no, I don’t need to know everything. Certainly not that the couple showers together twice a day. No, wait! Let's see just how much info our Agenda-Setting media, who won't be bested by any ol' Tom, Dick or Harry with a cellphone, will be pushing down our throats about the royal-wedding-to-be! Sick of it yet? I think the sensationalism of "commoner weds royalty" has been downright diluted because, well, we've been through the Charles&Camilla saga. No lesson learnt from the hounding of Lady Di? What gives? And that was a time when information sharing, compared to today's real-time, was still in the Stone Age. No matter how glamorous some make it sound; no matter how sensational; no matter how cute; no matter no matter no matter. I do not necessarily need to know. I do not want to be consumed by it all and lose myself in the process. So, I choose. And I live with the consequences of those choices.
DO I NEED TO KNOW WHAT I THINK I NEED TO KNOW, NOW?
And what of those things that I do need to know. (Not even the “I’d like to know.” We’ve skipped past that. For some semblance of guidance on it, see above and apply as required.) But those things I need to know? How bad is the world going to turn out if I don’t get the news the very second it falls? I mean, really, can’t they wait? Well, in truth, some of them really can’t but, a good deal of them sure can! And that right there is a part of the issue. It has got that much more difficult, with the advent of info at the touch of so many buttons on so many instruments, to determine, beforehand, what is urgent and what isn’t. Not until you retrieve the info you know you needed, and thought you needed now, do you realise that, y’know? It could have waited.
AM I MISSING SOMETHING?
What am I missing while spending an inordinate and egregious amount of time online – in any shape, size or form? Life. Well, a chunk of it, anyway. Won’t know how much until later on, I can just feel it. Better shape up now, then. I did say “inordinate and egregious.” Because being online and in the hub of information hubs has become a part of the way we live. So, there’s no getting away from that. We’ve created this monster and now have been conditioned to feed it in order for us to sort of live without the stress we would not have had in the first place, had we not gone (this far) down this road. (And we will be going farther).
Here’s to those of us who maintain solid, healthy, beautiful offline relationships with people that we can hug and kiss and smile with and sing to every so often. Peace, beauty, happiness and love to you!
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
Monday, 8 November 2010
My two reasons for joining the NaNoWriMo 2010 competition
Have you ever decided to do something, knowing that other people would be watching or somehow become aware of the outcome? You know you’d be on the hook? Think back. Did you do it, eventually? Why? Why not?
I don’t have stats to support the percentage of people who procrastinate on a daily basis; take up challenges in public and never finish; do finish…that sort of thing. I mean, where would I find those anyway? Yahoo it? (LO real L!)
Imagine that you’ve decided to enter a marathon – doesn’t matter which or where. Maybe, say, 99% of the people don’t know you; have never heard of you; don’t care. However, your inner circle of family members, friends, relatives, you know? The people who really matter? They know! Oh my gosh! They so know. They’ve witnessed you practising and, especially if it’s for a ‘cause – have hit up their own friends to sponsor you in your venture. So, even more people know.
Well, more often than not, those within your inner circle – and a few others – will be lined up or watching on TV or linked by BBM, Twitter, FB etc. to remain tuned in to how you are doing. Or, shortly after, to find out how you’ve done.
NO PRESSURE
The NaNoWriMo, which I learned about after the month of NaNoWriMo-madness had begun, is kinda like that. I’ve already told a few people in the inner circle, the 40-odd FB friends, and the 20-odd connections on Twitter. (Way too much pressure to embrace the concept of people following me. Reminds me of a saying by Alexandre Auguste Ledru-Rollin: “There go my people. I must find out where they are going so I can lead them!”) Anyway, that’s the lot. Oh! And now you, the reader of this post.
Now, having started, I have to continue.
THE REASONS (in no particular order)
1. I rock
I try to keep in mind a few tips that the organizers wrote in their confirmation email after I signed up: “You rock for even trying!” That doesn’t give me an out; a sugar-coated pat on the back to say, “There there! It’s okay if you don’t finish in time.” No, what it says to me is that they get it. They get that writing is sometimes as easy as breathing and for the other 99% of the time, it’s as tough as a diamond. (Yes. On purpose – ‘cause I imagine the oohs and aahs when it gets done.) Someone said they wouldn’t wish it on their worst enemy; another, that it’s 3% talent and 97% staying away from the Internet. You get it.
2. The discipline
This venture is actually helping me hone the discipline I need to write better. So many times I’ve had to make a note to self: “You’re a writer.” True. There have durations of quiet; silence; stillness on the writing front. Nothing for the public. My best attempt at publicly keeping the consistency and regularity has been this blog. And, that was after I convinced myself that while I wouldn’t be pressured into saying just anything simply because I blog, I must have a point of view on something!
I’ve written books of poetry, short stories; a book – all unpublished. I’ll get ‘em out. Somehow. The writing I hold most dear, however, is my journal/prayer journal (it metamorphosed) spanning the last 25 years or so. Still at it; still loving it.
November 5, 2010 was my start date for my novel. The thing began on November 1, 2010. No worries. Instead of the 1600+ words recommended to make the deadline, I need to be doing more than that now to catch up. As it is (joyfully) turning out, I’m writing an average of about 2200 words per day. At that rate, I should be back on track in about 12 – 14 days. Do the math. No, serious, do the math.
3. The competition
Especially that I’m competing against myself. That’s how I put it, anyway. I just need to finish this novel. According to the rules – “Unless, I’m wrong, which, you know, I’m not” (Moooooonk!) – to finish (writing a novel of at least 50,000 words) is to win.
I like the part where they talk about shutting up your “inner editor”. He can be so noisy –and I don’t know why mine is a ‘he’. They remind us that December is for editing; just write with “wild abandon!”
Now, did I say two reasons? Anyone who knows me well, knows I’m math-challenged. As I tweeted the other day, I no longer cringe when I make those (especially obvious) mistakes. Now, I could have just gone ahead and replaced the two with three, but, where’s the fun in that? How would I have got that beauty of an opportunity to refer to my tweet? (Heh heh.)
To NaNoWriMo! To Victory! Haroo!
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
I don’t have stats to support the percentage of people who procrastinate on a daily basis; take up challenges in public and never finish; do finish…that sort of thing. I mean, where would I find those anyway? Yahoo it? (LO real L!)
Imagine that you’ve decided to enter a marathon – doesn’t matter which or where. Maybe, say, 99% of the people don’t know you; have never heard of you; don’t care. However, your inner circle of family members, friends, relatives, you know? The people who really matter? They know! Oh my gosh! They so know. They’ve witnessed you practising and, especially if it’s for a ‘cause – have hit up their own friends to sponsor you in your venture. So, even more people know.
Well, more often than not, those within your inner circle – and a few others – will be lined up or watching on TV or linked by BBM, Twitter, FB etc. to remain tuned in to how you are doing. Or, shortly after, to find out how you’ve done.
NO PRESSURE
The NaNoWriMo, which I learned about after the month of NaNoWriMo-madness had begun, is kinda like that. I’ve already told a few people in the inner circle, the 40-odd FB friends, and the 20-odd connections on Twitter. (Way too much pressure to embrace the concept of people following me. Reminds me of a saying by Alexandre Auguste Ledru-Rollin: “There go my people. I must find out where they are going so I can lead them!”) Anyway, that’s the lot. Oh! And now you, the reader of this post.
Now, having started, I have to continue.
THE REASONS (in no particular order)
1. I rock
I try to keep in mind a few tips that the organizers wrote in their confirmation email after I signed up: “You rock for even trying!” That doesn’t give me an out; a sugar-coated pat on the back to say, “There there! It’s okay if you don’t finish in time.” No, what it says to me is that they get it. They get that writing is sometimes as easy as breathing and for the other 99% of the time, it’s as tough as a diamond. (Yes. On purpose – ‘cause I imagine the oohs and aahs when it gets done.) Someone said they wouldn’t wish it on their worst enemy; another, that it’s 3% talent and 97% staying away from the Internet. You get it.
2. The discipline
This venture is actually helping me hone the discipline I need to write better. So many times I’ve had to make a note to self: “You’re a writer.” True. There have durations of quiet; silence; stillness on the writing front. Nothing for the public. My best attempt at publicly keeping the consistency and regularity has been this blog. And, that was after I convinced myself that while I wouldn’t be pressured into saying just anything simply because I blog, I must have a point of view on something!
I’ve written books of poetry, short stories; a book – all unpublished. I’ll get ‘em out. Somehow. The writing I hold most dear, however, is my journal/prayer journal (it metamorphosed) spanning the last 25 years or so. Still at it; still loving it.
November 5, 2010 was my start date for my novel. The thing began on November 1, 2010. No worries. Instead of the 1600+ words recommended to make the deadline, I need to be doing more than that now to catch up. As it is (joyfully) turning out, I’m writing an average of about 2200 words per day. At that rate, I should be back on track in about 12 – 14 days. Do the math. No, serious, do the math.
3. The competition
Especially that I’m competing against myself. That’s how I put it, anyway. I just need to finish this novel. According to the rules – “Unless, I’m wrong, which, you know, I’m not” (Moooooonk!) – to finish (writing a novel of at least 50,000 words) is to win.
I like the part where they talk about shutting up your “inner editor”. He can be so noisy –and I don’t know why mine is a ‘he’. They remind us that December is for editing; just write with “wild abandon!”
Now, did I say two reasons? Anyone who knows me well, knows I’m math-challenged. As I tweeted the other day, I no longer cringe when I make those (especially obvious) mistakes. Now, I could have just gone ahead and replaced the two with three, but, where’s the fun in that? How would I have got that beauty of an opportunity to refer to my tweet? (Heh heh.)
To NaNoWriMo! To Victory! Haroo!
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
Thursday, 28 October 2010
The gawking, the stalking and the (non) talking: Confessions of a torn Facebook user
As promised, in this entry, I’ll share my take on Facebook and why I was only sorta on it. And this is as of right now. Hey, you never know! (Was just about to put a hashtag on that #YouNeverKnow – then I remembered where I was.) My feelings toward it might just change by next Tuesday. (Don’t ask!)
Well, there’s a good place to start. Feelings. I dare say, too many of mine were being engaged in the idea of making “Facebook friends” (quotation marks intentional) and connections. One of my girlfriends, whom I’ve known for more than 25 years, heard a smidgen of my angst the other day and summed it up quite nicely, “You are too weird!” All I could say was, “Yeeaaah.”
I joined Facebook sometime in early 2007, I think. My Facebook friends count now? About 46ish – in any case, it’s under 50. Essentially, three groups comprise the count – High School Alma Mater; the Alma Mater where I did my BA and the Alma Mater where I did my MA. The remaining connections are family, relatives and a few offline friends I’ve known since childhood.
THE GAWKING
I get that many people are interested in looking at pics of friends from Adam. The whole picture/thousand words thing does make sense. And it is fun to look and reminisce and all that. No substitute for going way back and enjoying it together. What I don’t get, though, is the gawking. People connect with others and simply comb through their pictures (yes, ‘cause they let ‘em!) clicking through album after album, without making a single comment. How do I know this? I found myself doing it. And I am 100% sure I’m not the only one who’s dunnit. And my doing that scared me that I could be that person – taking a kind of warped interest in the life of someone whom I hadn’t talked with in ages. Warped, because, after the gawking, I’d have no inclination, whatsoever, to exchange even two words! #EverGetThat? Not to mention my "Wait! Who's that living my life?" stares. Ouch! That musta hurt God's feelings.
I stopped gawking.
THE STALKING
Round about September of 2009, when I had about 50-something Facebook friends, I posted a kind note on my wall to inform that I was going to unfriend (or de-friend – whatever the term I used) a few people. I explained that I found we didn’t talk much and whenever I was on Facebook, I’d feel like I was stalking (!)
‘Cause I did feel that way, man!
I’d go on and check their walls and comments and what-not. I’d catch-up with their lives – as much as they cared to share – tracking their moves (?!) I mean, what was the point? Surely, there had to be more than that to Facebook. (Occasionally, one or two persons would say hi – they never gave up on me.) I convinced myself that I wasn’t using the space to its fullest potential; wasn’t making the best use of it at all. So, with plans to return after appointing an FAM (Facebook Account Manager – yeah), I took a hiatus. I recall one person saying that they (the un/de-friended) really weren’t going to like it (she wasn’t one of them). But, alas! The deed was done. I also opened my mind to the probability that some of those who’d remained would probably un/de-friend me. I was prepared.
Long after, I’d pop in – rarely – to post a vid I liked or an article I thought was worth sharing. That kinda thing.
THE NON-TALKING
I just wondered why folks would send invitations, and then not talk to me. Couldn’t see through that. Was an Facebook friend not a friend? Don’t friends talk to each other? Another aspect was just as puzzling. Friend request when we barely say hello offline? Even though we might cross paths every so often?
It took me a while to get it. Facebook friends are not necessarily friends, per se. No deep analysis required. They may be friends; associates; colleagues; someone you met once; third cousin twice removed; friend of a friend of a friend – you catch my drift. (I just recently caught that drift.)
Even though we had connected – after years and years of not knowing what each other had been up to; where each other’s beliefs now lie and so on – what we cared to share would, clearly, not tell the whole story. And the truth is that we really might not have much in common after all! Really might not have anything of such substance to glue a decent conversation together. To my mind, that explained a lot! That’s why we weren’t talking!
“Yes, Claudia,” you say. “That there is one of the mischiefs that Facebook tries to cure.” Get reacquainted and what not. I say fine, but, am I the only one who gets even a little bit queasy about reconnecting with long time friends/folks?
The big omission in all this? That thing that you’ve been waiting for me to admit? I wasn’t initiating m/any conversations myself. Of course, I’d go on about not talking and so on, but hardly ever said hello.
OUT OF HIATUS
Before coming out of hiatus, I got into Twitter more (@cyopro - see previous post for how that all went down.) I then permitted the app to run on Facebook and, Voila! I was instantly increasing posts and presence on Facebook! And, little by little (never “mis-underestimate” the power of baby steps), a few friends began to take note and the conversations began to grow more frequent. Then, a few old-new friends connected, and I accepted – without the level of queasiness I used to experience. (I tell you. Waaay too much thought.) As I lightened up a bit, for some areas, I started permitting “friends of friends” and, cautiously, in others, “everyone”! Mmhm! We’re cookin’ now!
ONLINE AND OFFLINE OPPOSITION
As with any online social network space, participation in Facebook highlights a kind of opposition, if you will, between online and offline realities. Many construct this virtual world and become convinced that it is “just like real life”. Nuh-uh! The personal pics and vids shared are, for the most part, pleasant. Indeed, they capture the moments of beauty. But, how many folks post pics and articles of ugly details of what’s happening to “others” in other countries or wherever and do/would do the same detailing the awful moments of their own lives? They may personally experience brutal and ugly moments, but those are not gonna make it to Facebook; not even in private albums. And even if some folks talk about it, sorta, they mightn’t touch the matter directly but kinda talk around it.
Offline, attention and popularity may wane; the 500 friends mightn’t show up at the barbecue (love this "Throw'd TV" clip). I see it as a space where folks enter, do stuff, then leave. I don’t know anyone who is “always on” Facebook, but I’ve heard that "they walk among us." And when the "book" is closed? When the site goes down at any time? I imagine there are shrieks of horror heard around the world. And, just imagine, those shriekers have to talk to other people now? Either that or scream at the computer until it gets back up. Not to worry. These addicts, well, they haven't lost their minds. They have them backed up on Facebook. Good thing FB allows you a zip file of your FB life - according to that site and a few others.
HEARING VOICES
As one of my sisters put it, when you get into Facebook, it’s like entering a huge space where everybody’s chatting and you’re hearing all these voices and some are talking with you and others are within earshot so you join in, if you feel like it, and you may be interrupted by someone who wants to chat when you’re trying to complete a move or a thought but, it’s organic and, like Hammy the speedy squirrel said in “Over the Hedge”: “It never ends!!!”
So, I’m in. Back. On. Into. On top of… (whatever) Facebook. I understand that there’s so much more to Facebook – groups, organizations’ pages etc. – a whole ‘nother’ world I have yet to explore. No, I don’t have a FAM – it’s just me. As I proceed, however, I’m ever careful. And, I’d ask you to exercise due care in building your online presence as well. To parody that Ontario Lottery and Gaming ad (and, I don’t play the lottery; I just think it’s a neat line): “Know your limit. Post within it.”
AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
Last week, a former CFB Trenton Commander was sentenced to life with no possibility of parole for 25 years. I honestly don’t want to repeat the atrocities and perversions he committed. I’ve thought about posting a link…OK. Here’s one.
For a while, as this unfolded, I realized that, just given the graphic details that reporters provided, I could only read two accounts. I came to the realization that I did not want these things to be repeated to me over and over and over. Not once did I tune in to a TV news item or special coverage of what was unfolding. It was just too horrible. I read a part of a report after he had been sentenced. I made my last tweets on the subject – no more than two.
The crimes he had committed, the ways in which he had committed them (he pleaded guilty) and the reality that all this was embodied in one person who, on top of it all, held such a prestigious position, made me feel sick. And angry. And awful. So much so that, for a while, I could not get to that place where I could forgive him and have compassion on him. That’s not something that I could reconcile with my Christian beliefs and practice where forgiveness is everything! It eluded me. And, in a way, it still kinda does. But, I’m working on it. Honest.
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
Well, there’s a good place to start. Feelings. I dare say, too many of mine were being engaged in the idea of making “Facebook friends” (quotation marks intentional) and connections. One of my girlfriends, whom I’ve known for more than 25 years, heard a smidgen of my angst the other day and summed it up quite nicely, “You are too weird!” All I could say was, “Yeeaaah.”
I joined Facebook sometime in early 2007, I think. My Facebook friends count now? About 46ish – in any case, it’s under 50. Essentially, three groups comprise the count – High School Alma Mater; the Alma Mater where I did my BA and the Alma Mater where I did my MA. The remaining connections are family, relatives and a few offline friends I’ve known since childhood.
THE GAWKING
I get that many people are interested in looking at pics of friends from Adam. The whole picture/thousand words thing does make sense. And it is fun to look and reminisce and all that. No substitute for going way back and enjoying it together. What I don’t get, though, is the gawking. People connect with others and simply comb through their pictures (yes, ‘cause they let ‘em!) clicking through album after album, without making a single comment. How do I know this? I found myself doing it. And I am 100% sure I’m not the only one who’s dunnit. And my doing that scared me that I could be that person – taking a kind of warped interest in the life of someone whom I hadn’t talked with in ages. Warped, because, after the gawking, I’d have no inclination, whatsoever, to exchange even two words! #EverGetThat? Not to mention my "Wait! Who's that living my life?" stares. Ouch! That musta hurt God's feelings.
I stopped gawking.
THE STALKING
Round about September of 2009, when I had about 50-something Facebook friends, I posted a kind note on my wall to inform that I was going to unfriend (or de-friend – whatever the term I used) a few people. I explained that I found we didn’t talk much and whenever I was on Facebook, I’d feel like I was stalking (!)
‘Cause I did feel that way, man!
I’d go on and check their walls and comments and what-not. I’d catch-up with their lives – as much as they cared to share – tracking their moves (?!) I mean, what was the point? Surely, there had to be more than that to Facebook. (Occasionally, one or two persons would say hi – they never gave up on me.) I convinced myself that I wasn’t using the space to its fullest potential; wasn’t making the best use of it at all. So, with plans to return after appointing an FAM (Facebook Account Manager – yeah), I took a hiatus. I recall one person saying that they (the un/de-friended) really weren’t going to like it (she wasn’t one of them). But, alas! The deed was done. I also opened my mind to the probability that some of those who’d remained would probably un/de-friend me. I was prepared.
Long after, I’d pop in – rarely – to post a vid I liked or an article I thought was worth sharing. That kinda thing.
THE NON-TALKING
I just wondered why folks would send invitations, and then not talk to me. Couldn’t see through that. Was an Facebook friend not a friend? Don’t friends talk to each other? Another aspect was just as puzzling. Friend request when we barely say hello offline? Even though we might cross paths every so often?
It took me a while to get it. Facebook friends are not necessarily friends, per se. No deep analysis required. They may be friends; associates; colleagues; someone you met once; third cousin twice removed; friend of a friend of a friend – you catch my drift. (I just recently caught that drift.)
Even though we had connected – after years and years of not knowing what each other had been up to; where each other’s beliefs now lie and so on – what we cared to share would, clearly, not tell the whole story. And the truth is that we really might not have much in common after all! Really might not have anything of such substance to glue a decent conversation together. To my mind, that explained a lot! That’s why we weren’t talking!
“Yes, Claudia,” you say. “That there is one of the mischiefs that Facebook tries to cure.” Get reacquainted and what not. I say fine, but, am I the only one who gets even a little bit queasy about reconnecting with long time friends/folks?
The big omission in all this? That thing that you’ve been waiting for me to admit? I wasn’t initiating m/any conversations myself. Of course, I’d go on about not talking and so on, but hardly ever said hello.
OUT OF HIATUS
Before coming out of hiatus, I got into Twitter more (@cyopro - see previous post for how that all went down.) I then permitted the app to run on Facebook and, Voila! I was instantly increasing posts and presence on Facebook! And, little by little (never “mis-underestimate” the power of baby steps), a few friends began to take note and the conversations began to grow more frequent. Then, a few old-new friends connected, and I accepted – without the level of queasiness I used to experience. (I tell you. Waaay too much thought.) As I lightened up a bit, for some areas, I started permitting “friends of friends” and, cautiously, in others, “everyone”! Mmhm! We’re cookin’ now!
ONLINE AND OFFLINE OPPOSITION
As with any online social network space, participation in Facebook highlights a kind of opposition, if you will, between online and offline realities. Many construct this virtual world and become convinced that it is “just like real life”. Nuh-uh! The personal pics and vids shared are, for the most part, pleasant. Indeed, they capture the moments of beauty. But, how many folks post pics and articles of ugly details of what’s happening to “others” in other countries or wherever and do/would do the same detailing the awful moments of their own lives? They may personally experience brutal and ugly moments, but those are not gonna make it to Facebook; not even in private albums. And even if some folks talk about it, sorta, they mightn’t touch the matter directly but kinda talk around it.
Offline, attention and popularity may wane; the 500 friends mightn’t show up at the barbecue (love this "Throw'd TV" clip). I see it as a space where folks enter, do stuff, then leave. I don’t know anyone who is “always on” Facebook, but I’ve heard that "they walk among us." And when the "book" is closed? When the site goes down at any time? I imagine there are shrieks of horror heard around the world. And, just imagine, those shriekers have to talk to other people now? Either that or scream at the computer until it gets back up. Not to worry. These addicts, well, they haven't lost their minds. They have them backed up on Facebook. Good thing FB allows you a zip file of your FB life - according to that site and a few others.
HEARING VOICES
As one of my sisters put it, when you get into Facebook, it’s like entering a huge space where everybody’s chatting and you’re hearing all these voices and some are talking with you and others are within earshot so you join in, if you feel like it, and you may be interrupted by someone who wants to chat when you’re trying to complete a move or a thought but, it’s organic and, like Hammy the speedy squirrel said in “Over the Hedge”: “It never ends!!!”
So, I’m in. Back. On. Into. On top of… (whatever) Facebook. I understand that there’s so much more to Facebook – groups, organizations’ pages etc. – a whole ‘nother’ world I have yet to explore. No, I don’t have a FAM – it’s just me. As I proceed, however, I’m ever careful. And, I’d ask you to exercise due care in building your online presence as well. To parody that Ontario Lottery and Gaming ad (and, I don’t play the lottery; I just think it’s a neat line): “Know your limit. Post within it.”
AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
Last week, a former CFB Trenton Commander was sentenced to life with no possibility of parole for 25 years. I honestly don’t want to repeat the atrocities and perversions he committed. I’ve thought about posting a link…OK. Here’s one.
For a while, as this unfolded, I realized that, just given the graphic details that reporters provided, I could only read two accounts. I came to the realization that I did not want these things to be repeated to me over and over and over. Not once did I tune in to a TV news item or special coverage of what was unfolding. It was just too horrible. I read a part of a report after he had been sentenced. I made my last tweets on the subject – no more than two.
The crimes he had committed, the ways in which he had committed them (he pleaded guilty) and the reality that all this was embodied in one person who, on top of it all, held such a prestigious position, made me feel sick. And angry. And awful. So much so that, for a while, I could not get to that place where I could forgive him and have compassion on him. That’s not something that I could reconcile with my Christian beliefs and practice where forgiveness is everything! It eluded me. And, in a way, it still kinda does. But, I’m working on it. Honest.
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
Monday, 18 October 2010
"The Medium is the Message" for Twitter, too!
Several years ago, a professor of mine told our class: “The last word on anything hasn’t been said.” That stuck. Clearly. Occasionally, I think of that sage statement and tell myself that that would explain the plethora of views on any given topic – on any given Sunday.
Enter mine, about Facebook and Twitter. (I'm thinking, I might have a two-parter on my hands.) Now, before the yawns and ho-hums, bear with me as I explore what must be a like-dislike interest I have in both. They are both social networking sites – no argument there. But, as one top tweet observed, funny how social networking sites seem to make us more anti-social. So, we talk to each other but we don’t really talk; and sometimes - especially with Twitter, it's not necessarily to each other. It’s more like ‘at each other’. I’ve found, given my recentish immersion into Twitter – and I know it’s not too soon to tell – that quite a lot of tweets from individuals are spurts of opinions/observations/comments about a topic. Once in a while, there’s a tweet to (or @) someone, in a reply. Sometimes it's sharing via ReTweet. The majority, though, are those that betray…no, let’s use exhibit a kind of random stream of consciousness that makes its way into a 140-character post. I've noticed that many companies/organizations tweet, too. That should give an indication that the facility is relied upon as a communications and marketing tool.
(Now, at this juncture, some would begin to wonder whether they should take any of what I’m saying with a grain of salt. I say yes, indeed! At worst, shrug it off and move on to the next topic of interest and the myriad tweets. At best, trust, but verify. Much of this is from my own observation, anyway, and has little to do with my MA in Communication. Perhaps the desire to look more closely through my often-preferred trope of metaphor, has indeed been touched by formal training.)
So, here's the thing, as another top tweet pointed out about Twitter, people are constantly talking to strangers. It’s not so much the novelty of that idea, it’s the fact that the strangers are from all over! (Have I heard of satellite radio? Yes. But, think about it. Isn't it imaginable that the rate of subscription to SatRad eats the dust of Twitter's subscription rate? I'm sure of it.)
To proceed, the idea of novelty is lost when one thinks about an on-air announcer/broadcaster, getting into the minds, hearts and homes of, well, strangers, over a period of time. That's been done. People tune in, they listen, if they like what they hear, they tune in another time - "rinse wash repeat". So, the announcer would be the poster, the listeners the followers, whatever he/she says, the tweets. Sooo, it's alike in that sense.
The points of departure then? For one, the followers get to keep a copy of what was broadcast and, if they “called in”/tweeted in response, they keep a copy of that too. Another is that these updates come in from several sources (all whom you follow) all within seconds. Try getting that done even by SatRad. Maybe I’m slow on the uptake here, but, I haven’t yet learnt of any broadcaster that gives up-to-the-second news/bulletins which the listeners get just a few seconds after and keeps this up 24/7. So, joined by mutual interests and hashtags (#), the broadcaster enters the mind, hearts and homes of those who’ve opted to tune in. This is an important point, because, unlike an on-air feed that you are inevitably tuned into (unless you’re plugged into your hand-held or something) when you’re at a store or the hairdresser or wherever, the broadcast/posts are by choice.
Would it be fair to surmise, then, (and I'm on to another idea here) that every single solitary tweet that you receive is borne out of the decision to be fed by that poster? If so, then it lends itself to the crux of the next question: Is there an underlying messiah complex that begins to take form after one acquires a certain number of followers? Just asking. I honestly wouldn't know - unless I did some research - as about half of my current eight followers are family, and, of the rest, I'm pretty sure two are marketers.
But, how does having a large following impact an individual, or the subsequent postings of that individual, who was (or would otherwise be) not-as-well-known? Does it even? Is that why some tweets come off as "wisdom from the oh so wise one"? Because there are followers who are (probably) hanging on every word? Do they? Sometimes I tweet stuff that would make my sis go, "Okaaaay. Right." Other times, "That's so true." Hmm. Without fail, we write/share from our different frames of reference, experiences and what not. Sometimes, though, you can tell the ones that are overreaching...
Maybe I'm over-thinking it, for, to be honest, I don't read every single tweet from those I follow. Still, even the term "follower", lends itself to this leader-follower duality, so I really can't be that far off base. That duality is certainly touched by the medium of choice (Twitter) and, according to Marshall McLuhan is the message: "The medium is the message" because it is the "medium that shapes and controls the scale and form of human association and action."
So, the fact that I tweet or I'm on Twitter, or however else it's articulated, communicates an intrinsic message in and of itself. (Not tweeting? Well, I never! I don't speak to people who don't tweet!) There is also an intuitive understanding of how the participants should (or should not) associate and interact with each other.
McLuhan was right on the ball, too, when he coined, "Invention is mother of necessity." So many things are now needed - online social networking etiquette; policies; leglislation. Read, just today, an article refering to Thompson Reuters and its decision to ban anonymous comments citing "legal risk" etc.
I shall continue this like-dislike interest, I imagine. My take at this point? If it's working for you, keep it going. Define working? Meets your needs and/or the purposes for which you indulge.
If not, don't take a trip to where the guilt is if you wish to hop off this train. Leave - guilt-free - the microcosm that is Twitter and join the other billions of people on the planet for whom satisfaction to express observations and communicate with others is derived through dozens of other non-Twitter ways.
Next up, why I was on Facebook but not on Facebook.
Her space :-) Happy Birthday to my niece. All of two today!!! You are my sunshine... la la la la la.
AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
Several years ago while living in the USA, I took a trip to visit a friend in New York City. (New York, New York - city so nice they named it twice:-) Anyway, we decided to do some last stop shopping - on the way out (she was gonna find her way back home). I parked about two blocks away from the store, fed the meter for an hour, and we were off. After about forty-five minutes, I noticed the time and beckoned to my friend...oh yes! My lil sis was there as well. So, I beckoned to them both that we'd have to finish up 'cause the cashier lines weren't all that short. My friend decided to stay on a while and so sis and I practically high-tailed it out of there! It was now a mad rush trying to beat the meter. All I could think about was getting a ticket and how much I didn't want to get a ticket! It was about two minutes to expiration and by this time we were running down the sidewalk, past the stores that had set up 'sidewalk sales' when, the next thing I knew, I bounced right into her!
She was a little girl, no more than five, could be six. And there she stood with her ice-cream cone ice-creamless! She looked down at it, then up at her mom who was walking just ahead. She'd stopped and turned when I'd stopped and flashed me a look like I was something horrible. I apologised to her profusely and sincerely but briefly. I still couldn't get the pending expiration out of my mind - no ticket under my windscreen wiper, please! And I hurried off.
We made it before the expiration but I felt like crap. And every time since then that I remember how I knocked off a little girl's ice-cream from her cone, that feeling comes over me. Of course there were more mature, less selfish actions I could have taken in that moment. But I didn't. What I did do, however, was learn one of my life's biggest lessons. In a moment when I knowingly offend someone, I try to do the right and selfless thing. Even if it feels difficult.
For I absolutely detest that other feeling.
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
Enter mine, about Facebook and Twitter. (I'm thinking, I might have a two-parter on my hands.) Now, before the yawns and ho-hums, bear with me as I explore what must be a like-dislike interest I have in both. They are both social networking sites – no argument there. But, as one top tweet observed, funny how social networking sites seem to make us more anti-social. So, we talk to each other but we don’t really talk; and sometimes - especially with Twitter, it's not necessarily to each other. It’s more like ‘at each other’. I’ve found, given my recentish immersion into Twitter – and I know it’s not too soon to tell – that quite a lot of tweets from individuals are spurts of opinions/observations/comments about a topic. Once in a while, there’s a tweet to (or @) someone, in a reply. Sometimes it's sharing via ReTweet. The majority, though, are those that betray…no, let’s use exhibit a kind of random stream of consciousness that makes its way into a 140-character post. I've noticed that many companies/organizations tweet, too. That should give an indication that the facility is relied upon as a communications and marketing tool.
(Now, at this juncture, some would begin to wonder whether they should take any of what I’m saying with a grain of salt. I say yes, indeed! At worst, shrug it off and move on to the next topic of interest and the myriad tweets. At best, trust, but verify. Much of this is from my own observation, anyway, and has little to do with my MA in Communication. Perhaps the desire to look more closely through my often-preferred trope of metaphor, has indeed been touched by formal training.)
So, here's the thing, as another top tweet pointed out about Twitter, people are constantly talking to strangers. It’s not so much the novelty of that idea, it’s the fact that the strangers are from all over! (Have I heard of satellite radio? Yes. But, think about it. Isn't it imaginable that the rate of subscription to SatRad eats the dust of Twitter's subscription rate? I'm sure of it.)
To proceed, the idea of novelty is lost when one thinks about an on-air announcer/broadcaster, getting into the minds, hearts and homes of, well, strangers, over a period of time. That's been done. People tune in, they listen, if they like what they hear, they tune in another time - "rinse wash repeat". So, the announcer would be the poster, the listeners the followers, whatever he/she says, the tweets. Sooo, it's alike in that sense.
The points of departure then? For one, the followers get to keep a copy of what was broadcast and, if they “called in”/tweeted in response, they keep a copy of that too. Another is that these updates come in from several sources (all whom you follow) all within seconds. Try getting that done even by SatRad. Maybe I’m slow on the uptake here, but, I haven’t yet learnt of any broadcaster that gives up-to-the-second news/bulletins which the listeners get just a few seconds after and keeps this up 24/7. So, joined by mutual interests and hashtags (#), the broadcaster enters the mind, hearts and homes of those who’ve opted to tune in. This is an important point, because, unlike an on-air feed that you are inevitably tuned into (unless you’re plugged into your hand-held or something) when you’re at a store or the hairdresser or wherever, the broadcast/posts are by choice.
Would it be fair to surmise, then, (and I'm on to another idea here) that every single solitary tweet that you receive is borne out of the decision to be fed by that poster? If so, then it lends itself to the crux of the next question: Is there an underlying messiah complex that begins to take form after one acquires a certain number of followers? Just asking. I honestly wouldn't know - unless I did some research - as about half of my current eight followers are family, and, of the rest, I'm pretty sure two are marketers.
But, how does having a large following impact an individual, or the subsequent postings of that individual, who was (or would otherwise be) not-as-well-known? Does it even? Is that why some tweets come off as "wisdom from the oh so wise one"? Because there are followers who are (probably) hanging on every word? Do they? Sometimes I tweet stuff that would make my sis go, "Okaaaay. Right." Other times, "That's so true." Hmm. Without fail, we write/share from our different frames of reference, experiences and what not. Sometimes, though, you can tell the ones that are overreaching...
Maybe I'm over-thinking it, for, to be honest, I don't read every single tweet from those I follow. Still, even the term "follower", lends itself to this leader-follower duality, so I really can't be that far off base. That duality is certainly touched by the medium of choice (Twitter) and, according to Marshall McLuhan is the message: "The medium is the message" because it is the "medium that shapes and controls the scale and form of human association and action."
So, the fact that I tweet or I'm on Twitter, or however else it's articulated, communicates an intrinsic message in and of itself. (Not tweeting? Well, I never! I don't speak to people who don't tweet!) There is also an intuitive understanding of how the participants should (or should not) associate and interact with each other.
McLuhan was right on the ball, too, when he coined, "Invention is mother of necessity." So many things are now needed - online social networking etiquette; policies; leglislation. Read, just today, an article refering to Thompson Reuters and its decision to ban anonymous comments citing "legal risk" etc.
I shall continue this like-dislike interest, I imagine. My take at this point? If it's working for you, keep it going. Define working? Meets your needs and/or the purposes for which you indulge.
If not, don't take a trip to where the guilt is if you wish to hop off this train. Leave - guilt-free - the microcosm that is Twitter and join the other billions of people on the planet for whom satisfaction to express observations and communicate with others is derived through dozens of other non-Twitter ways.
Next up, why I was on Facebook but not on Facebook.
Her space :-) Happy Birthday to my niece. All of two today!!! You are my sunshine... la la la la la.
AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
Several years ago while living in the USA, I took a trip to visit a friend in New York City. (New York, New York - city so nice they named it twice:-) Anyway, we decided to do some last stop shopping - on the way out (she was gonna find her way back home). I parked about two blocks away from the store, fed the meter for an hour, and we were off. After about forty-five minutes, I noticed the time and beckoned to my friend...oh yes! My lil sis was there as well. So, I beckoned to them both that we'd have to finish up 'cause the cashier lines weren't all that short. My friend decided to stay on a while and so sis and I practically high-tailed it out of there! It was now a mad rush trying to beat the meter. All I could think about was getting a ticket and how much I didn't want to get a ticket! It was about two minutes to expiration and by this time we were running down the sidewalk, past the stores that had set up 'sidewalk sales' when, the next thing I knew, I bounced right into her!
She was a little girl, no more than five, could be six. And there she stood with her ice-cream cone ice-creamless! She looked down at it, then up at her mom who was walking just ahead. She'd stopped and turned when I'd stopped and flashed me a look like I was something horrible. I apologised to her profusely and sincerely but briefly. I still couldn't get the pending expiration out of my mind - no ticket under my windscreen wiper, please! And I hurried off.
We made it before the expiration but I felt like crap. And every time since then that I remember how I knocked off a little girl's ice-cream from her cone, that feeling comes over me. Of course there were more mature, less selfish actions I could have taken in that moment. But I didn't. What I did do, however, was learn one of my life's biggest lessons. In a moment when I knowingly offend someone, I try to do the right and selfless thing. Even if it feels difficult.
For I absolutely detest that other feeling.
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
Friday, 8 October 2010
Don't stay out of it!
I read a newspaper column the other day in which the writer made a subtle reference to one of the then topical issues. In doing so, she couched it within a context that clearly indicated her leaning. So, clear context, subtle reference. I'd say more than a few of her readers got it.
So much so that, in my comment (as Cee Dubya) below the column, I made my not-so-subtle reference to her not-so-subtle reference. And someone spotted mine and so on.
What I was a tad put off by, however, was one of the comments that advised her to steer clear of making an input in the matter; not to be "caught up" in the debate and have her say.
Now, I just figured the author, Barbara Gloudon or Miss G, (as she is sometimes affectionately called - other times maybe Ms. B etc.) is mature and street wise and, in short has been around long enough not to have paid the poster any mind. I mean, after all, she is a writer - a columnist, to boot! Why would she hold back her thoughts about an issue, if she had something to say and the opportunity to say it?
Pretty soon, though, I realized why I was on about it so much; why I had given so much thought to a seemingly trivial thing. The reason was this: Anger - the healthy kind. See, I recognized some time ago the rather sad truth that many people would "put themselves out there" were it not for fear. It is a crippling fear that convinces you that the critics and cynics and naysayers are going to come raining dissent and scorn and ridicule upon your expressions; that it's better to just save yourself the agony, don't cause any problems and instead of confrontation, run! So, even before you begin to speak, you are silenced by angst and anticipation of the worst. And, very soon, the choice to "stay out of it" becomes less difficult with each opportunity to make a unique and meaningful input.
Here's the thing (Monk), the truth is, "we live in a cynical world" as Jerry said. (Yes, he "had me at hello", too.) Heck, I'm just now beginning to realize that I've added a dash or two of cynicism to a number of scenarios. I've had to take a step back and go, "Is this me?" Always, the answer comes back, Yup! Guess I've simply learned to look through other lens now. Point? There will be critics and cynics and editors and censors and apologists and nincompoops and people-who-may-mean-well-but-for-the-life-of-them-give-really-bad-advice. I heard my father with this saying a long time ago (when there was a minor home accident or something) and it stuck: "Never mind. The first hundred years are the hardest." OK. So I was about to highlight the point. And it's this: say what you have to say without fear - not even a little bit. Don't stay out of it! Provisos? Engage brain and mind before opening mouth. In some cases, you might need to open mouth, remove foot, engage brain and mind then proceed.
But, for the sake of your sense of self and sanity, don't clam up just because you're fearful that somebody might disagree with what you've said or might try to tear it apart. People are people wherever you go (I always say) and folks from the above list are always going to be around in some shape, form or hue. Perhaps no one, except the Lord Himself, may know from whence your strong points or passionate arguments come. But, be brave enough to express them and prepared enough to defend them - if necessary.
And I know about clamming up! About five or six years ago I wrote a book. It was not a big book, but, a book none-the-less. I've seen books with less than 50 pages, less than 20 pages, even. They tell their stories and that's that. Well, my book was running near 150 pages. I'm mentioning the pages because, at first, I thought a book doesn't really qualify to be called a book unless it has a decent number of pages. Yes, I clearly had a lot to learn; many myths to debunk.
The title of the book was...is, "I'm not an American, but I live here". It had a sub-title, but that'll do for now. It captured the essence of the lessons and new things I'd learnt in my journey from Jamaica to the USofA. My experiences were neatly packaged in this little book that I hoped would be enlightening, entertaining and inspiring. Well, I sent it to a couple of family members, a cousin, a friend, a professor at my alma mater and a former columnist for one of the major newspapers in Jamaica who was, at the time, a professor at another university.
As you might imagine, the responses from my family, relative and friend were more favourable than the others. The main criticism from the professors was that I needed to identify my audience. To whom was I telling the story? The book wasn't ready for publication, then. It was good criticism. But the 'not ready' stuck with me more than the 'ID audience' part. I don't think I've picked it up since receiving the critique. And, I feel, that I've disappointed not only myself, but also family members who might have had hopes of me finishing the thing. I imagine, however, given my new zeal and no-fear, no-doubt resolve, I will be re-visiting that project - and that right early. It will be published one way or another.
And that's why I feel so strongly about putting yourself out there. Especially as a writer, you just gotta be prepared for the sharks and wolves and whatnot. I just think that some people don't speak up or write because of fear of what others might say. What if it doesn't sound intelligent enough; witty enough; well-read enough; "in" (with the in-crowd) enough; oratorical enough and all that jazz? Well, what if it doesn't? Does it mean that you will always be concealing your opinion or take on everything?
But, then again, what if it does?
Jump in. Add your say. Be a part of the vibrant exchange. You'd be amazed and delighted at the wonderful things you begin to notice about the world around you. About yourself.
AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
I was just about ten metres away from the revolving doors, as I made my way to my building the other day. Just as I crossed at the lights, I saw another guy coming from my right, talking on his cell. He paused in conversation to holler at this guy, just ahead of me, leaning against a column, "Pablo!" Now, Pablo looked like an immigrant - Mexican, to be honest - mid-forties. Maybe I latched on to that nationality because of, well, "Pablo!" Anyway, I saw Pablo quickly end his own cell conversation, snap the phone shut and hurried to catch up to the first guy, who had by now, almost disappeared back around the corner where I'd spotted him just seconds before.
One of the first thoughts that entered my mind was, maybe Pablo is just getting a break - some degree of "hustling" and connections paying off at last. It just looked that way. Toronto is a pretty big city of approx 2.6M with a high percentage of immigrants. It was possible!
Just as they left my peripheral vision, I saw three guys (looked Caucasian), maybe early fifties, sitting in the patio area of a nearby café, having their morning coffee. Clad in hard hats and the proper construction attire, I surmised that they were on break from the massive multi-million dollar construction project taking place across the street (the hard hat one was wearing had the name of the project management company on it). They didn't look hurried or edgy or like they were 'hustling' at all. And I know that different people are at different points in their different lives. And I do believe that people make choices and they should be ready to face the rewards/consequences of those choices.
It's just that, for that moment, there was a juxtaposition of two very different worlds. And, for an-even-now-unexplained reason, it made me feel sad. In that instant, I got why there are those who commit their lives and resources to advocate for the marginalized and oppressed. It moved from "Pablo!" - cause I really don't know his situation; it moved from the construction workers - cause I don't know theirs, either - to the larger matter of disparity.
For, after all, Pablo's world seemed very different from mine, too.
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
So much so that, in my comment (as Cee Dubya) below the column, I made my not-so-subtle reference to her not-so-subtle reference. And someone spotted mine and so on.
What I was a tad put off by, however, was one of the comments that advised her to steer clear of making an input in the matter; not to be "caught up" in the debate and have her say.
Now, I just figured the author, Barbara Gloudon or Miss G, (as she is sometimes affectionately called - other times maybe Ms. B etc.) is mature and street wise and, in short has been around long enough not to have paid the poster any mind. I mean, after all, she is a writer - a columnist, to boot! Why would she hold back her thoughts about an issue, if she had something to say and the opportunity to say it?
Pretty soon, though, I realized why I was on about it so much; why I had given so much thought to a seemingly trivial thing. The reason was this: Anger - the healthy kind. See, I recognized some time ago the rather sad truth that many people would "put themselves out there" were it not for fear. It is a crippling fear that convinces you that the critics and cynics and naysayers are going to come raining dissent and scorn and ridicule upon your expressions; that it's better to just save yourself the agony, don't cause any problems and instead of confrontation, run! So, even before you begin to speak, you are silenced by angst and anticipation of the worst. And, very soon, the choice to "stay out of it" becomes less difficult with each opportunity to make a unique and meaningful input.
Here's the thing (Monk), the truth is, "we live in a cynical world" as Jerry said. (Yes, he "had me at hello", too.) Heck, I'm just now beginning to realize that I've added a dash or two of cynicism to a number of scenarios. I've had to take a step back and go, "Is this me?" Always, the answer comes back, Yup! Guess I've simply learned to look through other lens now. Point? There will be critics and cynics and editors and censors and apologists and nincompoops and people-who-may-mean-well-but-for-the-life-of-them-give-really-bad-advice. I heard my father with this saying a long time ago (when there was a minor home accident or something) and it stuck: "Never mind. The first hundred years are the hardest." OK. So I was about to highlight the point. And it's this: say what you have to say without fear - not even a little bit. Don't stay out of it! Provisos? Engage brain and mind before opening mouth. In some cases, you might need to open mouth, remove foot, engage brain and mind then proceed.
But, for the sake of your sense of self and sanity, don't clam up just because you're fearful that somebody might disagree with what you've said or might try to tear it apart. People are people wherever you go (I always say) and folks from the above list are always going to be around in some shape, form or hue. Perhaps no one, except the Lord Himself, may know from whence your strong points or passionate arguments come. But, be brave enough to express them and prepared enough to defend them - if necessary.
And I know about clamming up! About five or six years ago I wrote a book. It was not a big book, but, a book none-the-less. I've seen books with less than 50 pages, less than 20 pages, even. They tell their stories and that's that. Well, my book was running near 150 pages. I'm mentioning the pages because, at first, I thought a book doesn't really qualify to be called a book unless it has a decent number of pages. Yes, I clearly had a lot to learn; many myths to debunk.
The title of the book was...is, "I'm not an American, but I live here". It had a sub-title, but that'll do for now. It captured the essence of the lessons and new things I'd learnt in my journey from Jamaica to the USofA. My experiences were neatly packaged in this little book that I hoped would be enlightening, entertaining and inspiring. Well, I sent it to a couple of family members, a cousin, a friend, a professor at my alma mater and a former columnist for one of the major newspapers in Jamaica who was, at the time, a professor at another university.
As you might imagine, the responses from my family, relative and friend were more favourable than the others. The main criticism from the professors was that I needed to identify my audience. To whom was I telling the story? The book wasn't ready for publication, then. It was good criticism. But the 'not ready' stuck with me more than the 'ID audience' part. I don't think I've picked it up since receiving the critique. And, I feel, that I've disappointed not only myself, but also family members who might have had hopes of me finishing the thing. I imagine, however, given my new zeal and no-fear, no-doubt resolve, I will be re-visiting that project - and that right early. It will be published one way or another.
And that's why I feel so strongly about putting yourself out there. Especially as a writer, you just gotta be prepared for the sharks and wolves and whatnot. I just think that some people don't speak up or write because of fear of what others might say. What if it doesn't sound intelligent enough; witty enough; well-read enough; "in" (with the in-crowd) enough; oratorical enough and all that jazz? Well, what if it doesn't? Does it mean that you will always be concealing your opinion or take on everything?
But, then again, what if it does?
Jump in. Add your say. Be a part of the vibrant exchange. You'd be amazed and delighted at the wonderful things you begin to notice about the world around you. About yourself.
AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
I was just about ten metres away from the revolving doors, as I made my way to my building the other day. Just as I crossed at the lights, I saw another guy coming from my right, talking on his cell. He paused in conversation to holler at this guy, just ahead of me, leaning against a column, "Pablo!" Now, Pablo looked like an immigrant - Mexican, to be honest - mid-forties. Maybe I latched on to that nationality because of, well, "Pablo!" Anyway, I saw Pablo quickly end his own cell conversation, snap the phone shut and hurried to catch up to the first guy, who had by now, almost disappeared back around the corner where I'd spotted him just seconds before.
One of the first thoughts that entered my mind was, maybe Pablo is just getting a break - some degree of "hustling" and connections paying off at last. It just looked that way. Toronto is a pretty big city of approx 2.6M with a high percentage of immigrants. It was possible!
Just as they left my peripheral vision, I saw three guys (looked Caucasian), maybe early fifties, sitting in the patio area of a nearby café, having their morning coffee. Clad in hard hats and the proper construction attire, I surmised that they were on break from the massive multi-million dollar construction project taking place across the street (the hard hat one was wearing had the name of the project management company on it). They didn't look hurried or edgy or like they were 'hustling' at all. And I know that different people are at different points in their different lives. And I do believe that people make choices and they should be ready to face the rewards/consequences of those choices.
It's just that, for that moment, there was a juxtaposition of two very different worlds. And, for an-even-now-unexplained reason, it made me feel sad. In that instant, I got why there are those who commit their lives and resources to advocate for the marginalized and oppressed. It moved from "Pablo!" - cause I really don't know his situation; it moved from the construction workers - cause I don't know theirs, either - to the larger matter of disparity.
For, after all, Pablo's world seemed very different from mine, too.
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
Tuesday, 28 September 2010
Taking the Twitter plunge
Life, as I’ve known it, has changed. Not in a dramatically dark- or light-complected way. Small steps taken over the past couple of weeks have produced myriad ripples. And, in a few instances, waves. It’s change I can handle (thank God). Not the kind that “blindsides you on some idle Tuesday.” Oh look! It’s Tuesday. Ok, deep breath…and…exhale.
I got up this morning, as I tweeted, “[Seeing] a world in a grain of sand and #heaven in a wild flower.” I imagined it would have been a beautiful day – and it has been! I’ll share more anon, but, ok, ok, ok. One hint: It concerns my job that I so enjoy!
So I’ve plunged into the Twittersphere. Do you know how I came to know I’ve taken the plunge and am now riding the waves? No, it’s not that I’ve been tweeting a few times a day from two tweets in 2009 (what remained after I erroneously deleted a few other tweets) to 50-something in a couple of weeks. It’s not because I’ve had to sit to concentrate on attaining brevity to respond to a tweet or two, nor is it because I’ve had to watch the time for my gym appointment go by (not to meet up with anyone, just the time I was aiming for) because I was just not getting up to go through the door. (Yes, I’ve got Twitter for BB, but sometimes you just have to sit down and concentrate on getting the magnitude and multiplicity of your thoughts into 140 characters or less. Seriously, Twitter? Seriously? Who came up with that figure, anyway? Why not a nice round 200? Two hundred is nice and round – not square, not triangular and awkward, nice and round. So, this 140 thing has got me itching for rounding up but, anyway. Come to think of it, this conversation must’ve taken place before. I couldn’t possibly be the first at it.) So, no, it’s not because of any of those things. I think I knew for sure that I’d taken the plunge when, on awaking in the wee hours of this morning, before my regular wake-up time to start getting ready for work, I found myself…OK, I decided to concentrate on getting my must-tweet-this-response thoughts into 140 characters or less, in response to someone who, I dunno, just doesn’t seem to have attained the (clearly elusive) hang of connecting dots within, and therefore make for, a stream of logic in a conversation. I mean, I’ve long ago heard the saying, “Don’t try to have a battle of wits with someone who is unarmed.” Ne’er a truer word could have been applied to this…this…this… scenario.
That’s how I knew.
Now, I find that the thoughts that would normally run through my head are now being snatched, looked over and evaluated: Twitter worthy? Nah! Ok. We’ll just wait …Ah! Another! How about this one? Still no? Shoot. Unless, perhaps, we tweak it a bit. There! Drat! It’s 161 characters! Ugh! Change ‘the’ to ‘d’; ‘exchange’ to ‘xchng’ (I hope these people KNOW that I CAN spell. Sigh. So, some thoughts …make that most of my tweets (not the RTs, clearly) are not hot off the trying-vehemently-to-reduce-characters brain. Some actually go through that earlier-mentioned process. I mean, could I really just tweet the first thing I type? Ooooh. I dunnooo. (Insert hand-wringing here.) Needless to say, in the very early stages, I’d end up tweeting then deleting then tweeting again (not the same as retweeting…don’t ask!) then deleting. Then when I got it just right-ish, I let it go. Again. And exhaled.
That’s how come so many of one tweet ended up on my Facebook page. Yup! I’d linked them all, remember? So, even though I’d delete from my Twitter page, fb still clung to them like prized possessions. SMH. But, I learned to just sort out the whole thing and tweet once! Especially the replies. Can’t really mess with those ‘cause then I’d just be giving the impression that I’m not ready to respond. And if not, why tweet it? It’s like, it was there a minute ago! Oh! Here it is again – but there’s a comma missing…
I find that I tweet the stuff that I’d make a quick call about to my lil sis - @mizdurie. But, we still talk and text, so, we’re still good. And she’s following me (she’d better!) so we occasionally link there as well.
But the serious stuff. Why the heck do some folks feel that there is an anointed responsibility to play to the followers and utter man-squatting-on-the-mountain-top-esque “sound bites”? Ugh! If their interest is in more than one area, it kind of explains why they have followers. But, when, in a certain area, they cannot hold a decent conversation – fallacious arguments, dodging the counter points, making it crystal clear that the logos (as in ethos/pathos/logos) has left ‘em hanging, it grates on my very nerves. And I don’t like getting annoyed with strangers. I just don’t. It diminishes me - or, I feel diminished in some John Donne way. The bright side? Like the switch on the radio – unfollow! What? Your radio doesn’t have an ‘unfollow’ switch? Get out!
AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
I’ve been thinking of starting this section as an extended footnote or something. Would like to identify/highlight situations in which I’ve found myself responding in an intensely emotional way, to even the seemingly mundane or trivial. It could be a random act of kindness… as a matter of fact, that’s where I’d like to start.
Last week, having taken the plunge (before I knew – for sure – that I’d taken the plunge), I decided to follow a few folks. (I’ve noticed that most people with an extraordinary amount of followers only follow a few – but, I digress.) I decided to follow @marciaforbes and, wouldn’t you know it? She gave me a warm welcome, intro to a few of her followers (only thing missing was the red carpet) plus a bit of encouragement that they should start following me. All I could muster was “Awww.” Of course I replied ( I think I actually deleted the first one and tweeted again…) Anyway, I replied and thanked her. And soon after, I moved from two followers to five! Hey, Rome…day… And who’s trying to build Rome, anyway? Just doing my own thing; creating my own productions. (Couldn’t resist.)
And how did that make me feel? That kind gesture made me feel good. Simply, good. Like, I put my hand out there, and someone reached out and held it.
Marcia, thanks!
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
I got up this morning, as I tweeted, “[Seeing] a world in a grain of sand and #heaven in a wild flower.” I imagined it would have been a beautiful day – and it has been! I’ll share more anon, but, ok, ok, ok. One hint: It concerns my job that I so enjoy!
So I’ve plunged into the Twittersphere. Do you know how I came to know I’ve taken the plunge and am now riding the waves? No, it’s not that I’ve been tweeting a few times a day from two tweets in 2009 (what remained after I erroneously deleted a few other tweets) to 50-something in a couple of weeks. It’s not because I’ve had to sit to concentrate on attaining brevity to respond to a tweet or two, nor is it because I’ve had to watch the time for my gym appointment go by (not to meet up with anyone, just the time I was aiming for) because I was just not getting up to go through the door. (Yes, I’ve got Twitter for BB, but sometimes you just have to sit down and concentrate on getting the magnitude and multiplicity of your thoughts into 140 characters or less. Seriously, Twitter? Seriously? Who came up with that figure, anyway? Why not a nice round 200? Two hundred is nice and round – not square, not triangular and awkward, nice and round. So, this 140 thing has got me itching for rounding up but, anyway. Come to think of it, this conversation must’ve taken place before. I couldn’t possibly be the first at it.) So, no, it’s not because of any of those things. I think I knew for sure that I’d taken the plunge when, on awaking in the wee hours of this morning, before my regular wake-up time to start getting ready for work, I found myself…OK, I decided to concentrate on getting my must-tweet-this-response thoughts into 140 characters or less, in response to someone who, I dunno, just doesn’t seem to have attained the (clearly elusive) hang of connecting dots within, and therefore make for, a stream of logic in a conversation. I mean, I’ve long ago heard the saying, “Don’t try to have a battle of wits with someone who is unarmed.” Ne’er a truer word could have been applied to this…this…this… scenario.
That’s how I knew.
Now, I find that the thoughts that would normally run through my head are now being snatched, looked over and evaluated: Twitter worthy? Nah! Ok. We’ll just wait …Ah! Another! How about this one? Still no? Shoot. Unless, perhaps, we tweak it a bit. There! Drat! It’s 161 characters! Ugh! Change ‘the’ to ‘d’; ‘exchange’ to ‘xchng’ (I hope these people KNOW that I CAN spell. Sigh. So, some thoughts …make that most of my tweets (not the RTs, clearly) are not hot off the trying-vehemently-to-reduce-characters brain. Some actually go through that earlier-mentioned process. I mean, could I really just tweet the first thing I type? Ooooh. I dunnooo. (Insert hand-wringing here.) Needless to say, in the very early stages, I’d end up tweeting then deleting then tweeting again (not the same as retweeting…don’t ask!) then deleting. Then when I got it just right-ish, I let it go. Again. And exhaled.
That’s how come so many of one tweet ended up on my Facebook page. Yup! I’d linked them all, remember? So, even though I’d delete from my Twitter page, fb still clung to them like prized possessions. SMH. But, I learned to just sort out the whole thing and tweet once! Especially the replies. Can’t really mess with those ‘cause then I’d just be giving the impression that I’m not ready to respond. And if not, why tweet it? It’s like, it was there a minute ago! Oh! Here it is again – but there’s a comma missing…
I find that I tweet the stuff that I’d make a quick call about to my lil sis - @mizdurie. But, we still talk and text, so, we’re still good. And she’s following me (she’d better!) so we occasionally link there as well.
But the serious stuff. Why the heck do some folks feel that there is an anointed responsibility to play to the followers and utter man-squatting-on-the-mountain-top-esque “sound bites”? Ugh! If their interest is in more than one area, it kind of explains why they have followers. But, when, in a certain area, they cannot hold a decent conversation – fallacious arguments, dodging the counter points, making it crystal clear that the logos (as in ethos/pathos/logos) has left ‘em hanging, it grates on my very nerves. And I don’t like getting annoyed with strangers. I just don’t. It diminishes me - or, I feel diminished in some John Donne way. The bright side? Like the switch on the radio – unfollow! What? Your radio doesn’t have an ‘unfollow’ switch? Get out!
AND HOW DID THAT MAKE ME FEEL?
I’ve been thinking of starting this section as an extended footnote or something. Would like to identify/highlight situations in which I’ve found myself responding in an intensely emotional way, to even the seemingly mundane or trivial. It could be a random act of kindness… as a matter of fact, that’s where I’d like to start.
Last week, having taken the plunge (before I knew – for sure – that I’d taken the plunge), I decided to follow a few folks. (I’ve noticed that most people with an extraordinary amount of followers only follow a few – but, I digress.) I decided to follow @marciaforbes and, wouldn’t you know it? She gave me a warm welcome, intro to a few of her followers (only thing missing was the red carpet) plus a bit of encouragement that they should start following me. All I could muster was “Awww.” Of course I replied ( I think I actually deleted the first one and tweeted again…) Anyway, I replied and thanked her. And soon after, I moved from two followers to five! Hey, Rome…day… And who’s trying to build Rome, anyway? Just doing my own thing; creating my own productions. (Couldn’t resist.)
And how did that make me feel? That kind gesture made me feel good. Simply, good. Like, I put my hand out there, and someone reached out and held it.
Marcia, thanks!
Claudia
www.cyopro.com
www.twitter.com/cyopro
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