A Return to Slow Food

I read yesterday's Wall Street Journal and wondered who I knew that received a regular paper delivery. We cancelled our subscription many years ago declaring it a waste of money because we didn't read it regularly. Today while reading The Age of American Unreason authored by Susan Jacoby, I noted my time constraints are symptomatic of a greater pandemic. Ms. Jacoby reports:

'In Everything Bad is Good for You, technophile Steven Johnson argues that yes, we're spending less time reading literary fiction, but that's because we're spending less time doing everything we used to do before...because a dozen new activities have become bona fide mainstream pursuits in the past ten years: the Web, e-mail, games, DVDs, cable-on-demand, text chat. We're reading less because there are only so many hours in the day...If reading were the only cultural pursuit to show declining numbers, there might be cause for alarm...As long as reading books remains part of our cultural diet, as long as the new popular forms continue to offer their own cognitive rewards, we're not likely to descend into a culture of mental atrophy anytime soon.'

Beyond our dwindling free time, this quote pointed to a greater concern: what mediums we choose for our intellectual stimulation. Mr. Johnson’s use of “mental atrophy” implies that it makes no difference what our minds feed on, so long as it continues to be stimulated. Using that logic I could argue that McDonald’s Value Meals fulfill my caloric intake requirements, so I’m not likely to experience any type of health deterioration anytime soon. While I’m no Luddite, I stand firmly in the belief that fast food in the way of intellectual stimulation will leave our minds simultaneously flabby and emaciated.

Married Woman ISOA (In search of answers)

My mother used to say I was a “jack-of-all-trades and master of none” owing I’m sure to the breadth of my experience rather than the depth. Let’s see I’ve been a farmhand, an insurance adjuster, a banker, an accountant; I have a pre-law college degree, half of a Masters degree in psychological counseling and a whole Masters degree in Business Administration. To me this reads “flighty,” and quite honestly I’m bothered by it. I admire those who have either wittingly or unwittingly found their niche and achieved success. I wish I could change things for myself, but my biggest hurdle is the staying put factor. There aren’t enough hours in a day to quench the curiosity coursing through my veins. There may be an upside to this, but I’m painfully aware of the downside—a large dose of impatience. The challenge is to strike a balance.

For example, when I wanted to make an informed decision during the past presidential election, I read books on health care reform, poverty, terrorism, the global economy. As the election approached I switched to newspapers and magazines. I spoke with many, many people about their views on the candidates and asked them where they were getting their information. As you can imagine there was a whole spectrum of responses, including those I mentioned and also television and talk radio.

It is very time-consuming to stay informed—how do YOU do it? Are there resources that you use regularly—websites, magazines, newspapers? Or, do you have friends or colleagues who you can count on for some quality discourse?

Yes, I’m curious!

Clear as mud

I haven't told that many people that I am blogging, consequently, my feedback is limited. For now, that's intentional. This is a work in process and not something I'm inviting a lot of people to watch unfold. Feedback so far has been, well, let's say "surprising". This morning my friend told me my writing was "wordy" as in too wordy, and too much like a personal journal to gain any followers. True, many of the blogs I have read are exactly that: a personal journal where the authors are simply trying to keep in touch with the very same people who are probably deemed "friends" on Facebook. Rest assured, I'm not trying to impress my own thoughts on other people.

A couple of others said my writing was obtuse (my word--I have nicer friends.) I didn't know I had it in me to be "difficult to comprehend." However, I think what I haven't made clear is that this blog, at this stage, is simply me learning the blog environment and asking you to experiment with me. You see those leaves up there? I had to change html code to make those appear in the title. The color scheme--that too required customizing. Just sitting down each day to write requires discipline. I'm trying to get a grasp on all these structural/administrative type aspects of blogging while I also develop this blog into what I hope it will become--a site where I don't write. Do I hear a sigh of relief?

I humbly acknowledge what I’ve been writing is me philosophizing on paper. My vision for the blog is beginning to grow roots. Bear with me and pray it takes on a life of its own.

Help, I have a teenage son!

Have I mentioned I am the mom of two teenage boys? Maybe not to you, but apparently I’ve been quite vocal about it to those who have known me no less than 24 hours. I would suppress my emotional narratives if only I could. I lost all transparency when I gave birth to my first son. For those of you who don’t know me, before mom-hood therapy sessions were filled with dead air, particularly after the “how does that make you feel” inquiry. On July 14, 1990 the dam broke and there isn’t enough concrete in the world to rebuild it. Colic, vomiting, breastfeeding, sleep deprivation. I’d like to say I coped well, but I didn’t even cope well enough. My urge to maintain the “all is well” facade faded rapidly amid temper tantrums, middle of the night phone calls, driver’s tests, girlfriends. In a culture that increasingly diminishes the value of parents, support was difficult to come by and I nearly broke.

Did I let this shame quiet me? Hell no! (Oh, have I mentioned I’m also no longer “a lady?”) Those little brats did not get the best of me!!! I think this may be the tone my three friends picked up on during the past week. I’m a survivor of raising two normal teenage boys. My friends are having their doubts about themselves. I adore my boys and for them "that lovin' feelin'" will return one day soon.

I could fill a book with failures and successes, advice and encouragement, but then this isn’t a book is it? What struck me is how I wish I had found someone just like me when I desperately needed hope and guidance. And, that my friends is why Let Wisdom Ring was born.

If a mentor falls in the woods............

The answer, if you ask my 16-year old, is a resounding “no” you don’t hear a sound. If someone calls themselves a teacher, then we could assume there are or have been students. However, one can’t presume more than the student is obedient, showing up where and when they have been told to appear. Again, I point you to my 16-year old. He is not open to the wise guidance of a mentor, in fact, he's more prone to the foolish examples of his peers. In between those two, he’s pretty sure he knows everything else. Fortunately, for many of us this is an adolescent stage we traverse.

On the other hand, we all know the people who don’t. I have a friend who is very wise in many areas of her life. She asked me advice about a significant matter that she just couldn’t seem to sort out and resolve. I cringed, because like others she knew, I saw a major flaw in her thought process and I knew my suggestion was going to challenge her. I gave it anyways. Her response in so many signals: “Who asked you anyway?” I still chuckle at the irony, but the outcome of the path she took was not funny.

Mentees have to be humble enough to accept that they don’t know everything, confident enough to expose this truth and resourceful enough to close the gap by leaning on the wisdom of others. Too tall an order? Perhaps. In this world of blaming everyone else for disappointments, and not accepting accountability for our personal sovereignty, my 16-year old has found his comfort zone.

Will the real mentors PLEASE stand up?

At the risk of being trite, and just to make sure we are starting at the same point, I understand and share the definition of mentor with Webster’s: men·tor \men'-tor, -tər\ a. : a trusted counselor or guide b: tutor , coach. My expectations for this role mirror this definition. Being a mentor infers that the person is qualified to teach or guide, wouldn’t you agree? I mean, a know-it-all simply won’t do.

A mentor needs street cred. They have to exude authority—not in all aspects of their life, but in the area(s) they are counseling or guiding. If I need marriage advice, I would choose Bill Cosby over George Costanza. If I needed parenting advice, I would choose Tim Tebow’s momma over Britney Spear’s. These role models have authority not because they have assumed the role, but because their competency is evidenced by their success.

In addition to legitimate authority, a mentor must be willing to convey his or her wisdom to others unconditionally. Sure there are those who call themselves coaches, but typically that comes with a price in the literal sense. That condition, that exchange for guidance, diminishes the “trusted” part of the definition for me.

I had a mentor who was my boss, although he wasn’t my direct supervisor. My direct supervisor reviewed my work. My boss encouraged my growth. For example, daily he would read The Wall Street Journal, mark it up with his insights and humorous comments, then he would circulate it to his staff. Besides conveying job-related information to us, he fostered an environment where we could flourish. Even though I haven't been in contact with Dev in over 20 years, and he remains a consummate mentor.

I blog, therefore I am

Last count: 93 million bloggers. Make that 93,000,001. I have a hard time believing that if there were even 93 bloggers someone would give a rat's you-know-what about what I have to say. And, yet, presumably 93 million other human beings thought they mattered enough to go public with their thoughts. This is striking to me! Not that people should feel confident that "they matter," but that they are bold enough to make the declaration publicly.

I'm born of the "children should be seen and not heard" era of parenting. When the bold and opinionated Karen begins to feel her emotions percolating, her still small voice reaches for the paddle on top of the refrigerator. Until recently. That's when I discovered that clinging to my "silence is golden" credo is really untested. How unfortunate for those closest to me. Perhaps my fellow bloggers never had this speech impediment, or they too fought through it.

What made me do it? Fight through it, I mean. The scales tipped. In my lifetime I have witnessed firsthand the erosion of "the village"--you know the one--the one that is supposed to help raise our children. My life's questions have been answered on the fly. It isn't that I haven't asked for advice. But, have you noticed how busy people are? Rhetorical, no need to respond. Gone are the days of people dedicating time for the sake of someone else's well-being. That's called building a relationship. That's what therapists are for, right?

The scales tipped when my ongoing journey in search of my very own village passed the billboard saying "The people have spoken and they say, 'It's not my job.'" True story--As a last ditch attempt to get some pressing life-sized questions answered, I joined an online community which offered personal mentoring beyond the normal discussion board content. I was paired up with "Emily" who had a bio and thread contributions which seemed to reflect someone of similar values and status as myself. Let's just cut to the end of the story which came rather quickly--two weeks later to be exact. When I hadn't heard back from Emily, I e-mailed the community host to see if there had been an error. I soon received a forwarded response that regretfully notified me that Emily didn't have time to dedicate to me. It's worth noting that there was no offer to pair me up with anyone else.

You may be wondering just how needy I am. I've been told I'm anti-dependent. The person who told me this was a therapist who said I didn't depend on him enough. Hey, I was seeing a therapist, wasn't there some implicit level of dependence in that decision? Experts presumably have the breadth and depth in knowledge and experience to get paid for their advice. Is that what life has come to: paying for wisdom? Well, I'm not going to sit back and watch our villages crumble into dusty relics of better days. I'm going to re-build, restore, refurbish, revive our social community and I'd like to do it with your help.

Let Wisdom Ring is a community for people to share their wisdom--their knowledge, experience and lessons--to lift people from our "rising to the lowest common denominator" morass. I hope on these pages we will "raise the lowest common denominator" making us part of a more vibrant, hopeful, self-actualizing community. It won't be our village without you.