Things to Do and Not Do in the Aftermath of Gun Violence

It’s been a long time since I’ve gotten to blog. That’s because I’ve been working hard to get my new book (Deviced! Balancing Life and Technology in a Digital World coming out late summer/early fall) to press. It’s there now. While I forced myself to stay focused on that task, mass shootings kept happening and I kept wanting to write. On a few occasions it nearly undid me to not be able to set everything aside to speak out about the horror of gun violence. Today, book (mostly) finished and coming off a week of testifying and holding space in my state house in support of an important gun safety bill, I am given yet another horrific opportunity. 

Every time I learn of anyone being killed by gun (or by any weapon really) I go through a sickly familiar routine. I re-live what it was like in the moments following the call that reported my 4 family members’ deaths by gun. My body reminds me of the sick feeling and the light headedness, the drive to pick up my mother in law at the hospital. She witnessed the murders, as did her neighbors and friends. I recall the people at the gas station where we pulled over so that my husband could throw up. They were talking about the “whack job” who had just “shot up his family." I remember cleaning my niece’s blood out of my mother in law’s hair and sending a friend to buy her everything she’d need for a week since her home was now an un-enterable crime scene. I remember the media and the grand juries and the myriad of other bizarre experiences I had never expected to have.

Today in Florida (and in the past months in Nevada and Texas and countless other U.S. states) hundreds and hundreds of people are dealing with these kinds of experiences. Perhaps they are planning funerals. Maybe they are trying to comfort a child who lived through the traumatic ordeal. Some are first responders or teachers or friends of the shooter’s family. Seventeen have been taken and many others injured. Physical injuries are not the only ones that count, the emotional ones are just as serious. And it isn’t just the publicized shootings and killings that matter. It’s every single one. Even the ones you never hear about.

The ripple effect of the impact of traumatic experiences related to gun violence is profound and it is real. While those closest to those taken by or threatened with gun violence certainly feel the deepest effects, all of us hold trauma when our common public spaces and homes are colored by it. Sadly, these ripples are reaching far more of us than our comprehension can fathom. It’s nearly impossible to find someone who doesn’t know someone who has been touched by this public health crisis. At the same time, we live in a country where our hands are tied from seeing the issue as such. I feel confident that if 93 people a day died in our country from any one thing other than guns, we’d be calling it what it is and doing everything we could to eradicate it. We, as a country, are not. It is time for us to wake up.

There are all manner of active responses available to us. We can write letters and make calls. We can begin to work to address the false notion that common sense gun laws are counter to the right to bear arms. We can educate ourselves about safe storage or can arrange a neighborhood or school event centered around how to talk about and store guns in ways that make our homes and families safer. We can work to sponsor and pass laws that enforce the national background check system, close loopholes, and keep guns out of the hands of people who will use them inappropriately. We can also take small but powerful steps to usher in ripples of justice, love, and action. While they may seem small, such actions carried out boldly, consistently, and over time can disrupt a system that has become overly passive about violence and, in my opinion, overly permissive about guns. I must believe that each of us, small and insignificant as we may seem or feel, have a part to play in creating a country and a world where the love of self and other reigns. Where we are willing to stand up for the rights of our neighbors and children to feel be safe. Where we are willing to have difficult discussions and to listen and to be open to being moved. Where we can communicate effectively about our values, thoughts, and feelings and have the skills to handle the strong emotions of anger and rage. Where we feel capable of handling conflicts within us or between us with our words rather than with weapons.

I want to be able to write the complete text on how to make this happen. I cannot. Especially given my own wild mix of emotions, reactions, and thoughts related to this week where I’ve been honored to be part of getting an important gun related loophole closed in Oregon at the same time that a 19 year old had access to an assault style weapon that he turned upon his former classmates. Even still, a few important thoughts keep holding my attention hostage and I wonder if they might be helpful to a wider set of minds. I offer them humbly, owning that my experience is mine alone and that yours might be wildly different.

Things to Do and Not Do After a Gun Related Traumatic Event:

1    Don’t use phrases like “There but by the grace of God go I.” If grace is what it is defined as being, it is indiscriminate. Every person who has had someone taken by gun violence or who has been threatened or victimized by it has also been living under that grace. Instead of passively saying it’s grace that has saved you from this round of violence, say things like, “This could, truly and literally, happen anywhere.” “I have no words for the weird mix of relief and sorrow that I feel. This could have been me or my kids’ school. It wasn’t and I cannot imagine the experience of those who are living it.”

2    Don’t diminish the lives taken by gun violence that are never, ever highlighted in the news. As a person who has lost three very young children to gun violence there is a unique and weird kind of pain I experience every single time someone says, “When all those children were taken in (insert publicized mass shooting) I just HAD to get involved.” There are people and communities, especially communities of color, that have been losing children to gun violence for years and at far greater rates than most of us realize. Let’s own how late we are (at least those of us white middle class folks who didn’t acknowledge this horrific reality until it came to our neighborhoods) to this issue. Let’s remember that every single life is important and that those whose losses happen outside of the public eye have a special grief to bear. A largely unrecognized, and sometimes horribly stigmatized, one.

3    Don’t believe that there is nothing that can be done. There is plenty that can be done and there are lots of incredible individuals who are organizing ways for all of us to participate. There are political action organizations and there are community service organizations. Moms Demand Action/Everytown for Gun Sense are groups that I am active with. The Newtown Action Alliance Ceasefire Oregon Giffords and Gun Owners for Responsible Ownership are also fantastic organizations that I support. I’m sure there are plenty of others. Find them. Plenty of gun violence prevention activists are gun owners. Don’t assume you won’t have a place and don’t assume your voice doesn’t matter. It does. You are important in creating a safer and more equitable world. You might be the person who initiates the most important ripple. Your voice and your being matter. Stuffing envelopes is important. Making calls or sending texts is too. Hosting a house party or a Be Smart gun violence prevention class is a gift. So is writing a letter to the editor. Sending a card to a survivor of gun violence may be the most important thing you do or asking a friend how their guns are stored before a play date may be the act of bravery that saves a life. It’s easy to feel overwhelmed these days! Don’t believe the lie that small actions done by regular people don’t matter. They do! In fact, they are just about all we have in the way of hope.

4    Don’t ignore or try to push past your feelings too quickly. Neither attempt to “inform” yourself through your feelings. Many people stay overly attached to information sources in times like this. At places deep within us we feel out of control when inexplicable violence occurs. We unconsciously feel as though information will help us “master” our discomfort and shock. Feelings just don’t work like this. They need to actually be acknowledged and felt. If it seems that they will overwhelm or overtake you if you invite them, find some strategies to help you feel supported as you welcome them. Talk to a friend, pastor, imam, rabi, therapist, or counselor. Go for a walk or run or stretch and do yoga. Write out your feelings or do a brain dump where you pay no attention to legibility or eloquence and simply write all the thoughts and feelings that come to you in a ten minute time frame. Literally get it out of you. Or, do what I did at dance class last night. Stomp your feet as hard as you can, move fast and furious and sweat out the anger and fear and hopelessness. Cry. Do whatever is needed to acknowledge your feelings without hurting yourself or anyone else. Work them out until they are at a manageable level before you do anything with them. This is the way toward resolution and atuned, effective engagement. When we don’t take the time to do this we often make bigger messes.

5    Take every opportunity possible to honor those taken by gun violence. If you can’t “find” an opportunity, make one. This doesn’t have to be laborious. Do your own vigil. Light a candle and take time to sit in silence holding the families of those taken in thought or prayer. Designate a time and invite others to join you either in person or where ever they are. If you want to go deeper with this, honor these lives by volunteering on their behalf with an organization that would matter to them or donate money in their name. The goal is to actively remember them and honor them and those that have been impacted by their death.

6    Education is available and important. Information is easier than ever to come by. Reliable and well researched wisdom, however, is a totally different animal. Before you vent, driven by emotion or information gathered from who knows where, attend to point number 4 above and then so some real research. In my experience Everytown for Gun Safety's research collaborative is a fantastic source for very carefully culled research.

7    Muster, gather, and exude love. Not whimpy love that says “I’ll love you if you look like me or believe like me.” Not conditional love that says “I’ll love you if you do this or think that way that I tell you to.” Rather, send love to those hardest for you to imagine even liking. Look for opportunities to do conflict without violence. Train your mind and your self in the way of encountering every one you meet with the grace that they deserve. This might be just the ripple that can turn the tide.

8    Pay attention to the fact that you live in a body. Cultural trauma impacts us all. Conflict influences the way we move about in the world and in our bodies and we live in a near constant state of it today. One way that you can love the families in Florida, Nevada, Texas, and everywhere who have had loved ones taken by gun is to keep yourself healthy enough to send love, fight fights worth fighting well, and to bear witness to their losses. Take breaks from media. Get outside. Breathe deeply. Drink water. Sleep. 

I met with an incredibly wise and profound Muslim leader in my town last week. While we talked about what each of us was doing to try to make the world a better place, he remarked, “It’s as though you hug the world. I do hope that you are hugged back.” I would add, “…in the way that is meaningful to you.” It is each of our responsibility to make sure that we are hugged back so that we can keep offering the hugs our world so desperately needs. Determine how you are best hugged and then make sure you are doing what needs to be done to get what you need. This is important because we need you…….

how to respond to unbelievably horrific happenings

Days like this are hard for everyone. When you have lost a loved one to gun violence, have yourself been present during a shooting, have been shot, are connected to someone who has killed someone else with a gun, or are a person who has been working to reduce gun violence, days like this are surreal. I fit into a couple of those categories and know many, many others who fit into some that I don’t. I’m sure that they have even more direction for us as we move through these next few days than I do. Even still, I feel a need to toss some things that I have learned (in responding to my own loss to gun violence and to those of others) out into the cultural wind, hoping that they might provide hand-holds or temporary solace on a day containing so much pain.

Feel ALL the feels. Most of us have an unconscious, unsolicited response to violence. Sometimes, out of a feeling of pure powerlessness, apathy surfaces. More commonly, however, is a strong first feeling of either anger or sadness. These emotional responses make sense. Given how out of control and helpless we feel, it is understandable when our strong emotions drive us to take action. We are angry so we decry, in all the places that we can think of, our cultural apathy and indescretions; ranting, “No one has been doing anything about this!!” completely overlooking the tireless work that has been going on and disregarding the fact that the victims of the trauma and their families care nothing, today, about politics.  Or, we are sad, so we attend a vigil and weep in our homes, forgetting that we could harness our deep grief into forms of action in the days, weeks, and months to come. I have been on both sides of this anger-sadness continuum.

In order to remain healthy and to work toward a safer world, it is best if we give our selves spaces to feel ALL the feels, rather than just the first ones that register. It’s important to feel both anger and sadness as well as the myriad of other feelings that may come. Each has an important role in educating and shaping us. Our anger, when felt all the way through to the other side, can empower and inform us of actions we might take to prevent further trauma. Our sadness honors the lives of those lost and also of the families and friends that are forced to live through these first few days of unbelievable shock. They need us to feel sadness in order to direct our anger well and to remind us of why our advocacy efforts matter.

To this end it is important to find spaces to feel our feelings all the way through. This will sometimes require us to…

Take breaks from social media and the news. In our current connected economy it can feel hard to step away. We might miss something, we might not hear of current developments, we might not get to weigh in on everyone’s ill informed status updates. If and as you can, however, walk away from all media and screens. Look toward something neutral at least and beautiful at best. Constant input (especially looping input that is the same input or message over and over and over) exhaust and drains us. The world, on days like today, needs people who are able to feel the feels, plan actions to take later on behalf of the victims, the world, their families, and communities, and then to have the energy and where-with-all to carry them out. The goal of turning away is not simply to distract your self but actually to do the following.

Find ways to soothe your self. We live in a culture that tells us that being well informed is better than being grounded; that being stimulated (up to date, current on all information) is the equivalent of being calmed). This is not true. Everyone of us needs to make personal deposits in the self care center of our being in order to afford the withdrawals of energy, emotion, time, and attention that the world and its news offers. It is crucial that we find ways not just of distracting ourselves on days like today (think Pinterest, Netflix, video games, etc) but also that we find ways to specifically and deeply soothe ourselves. For some of us that may a good hard run and for others it may be a long slow walk. Tea that tastes and smells, drunk slowly, may hit the spot. A bath may work for one of us while throwing ice cubes at the fence as hard as we can might fill the ticket for another. Screaming in the car, crying in the shower, or playing basketball until you can’t move are all options. So are knitting, breathing deeply, and finding beauty somewhere reliable. Whatever you do, let your mind, body, and heart have some space to release and to receive. You can most effectively help the world from a place of centeredness, find it. Once you've found the ways of best truly soothing your self, consider offering to help others find their unique paths to actual self soothing.

Talk to someone. If you feel as though you can’t bear the sadness or as though the anger may cause you (or someone you are near), harm, reach out to someone who can help you find the center referenced above. While it may feel good to rant with others who are angry or commiserate with those who are sad, make sure you also find someone who can help you process through your emotions to a place where life feels manageable and you are able to take media breaks, feel all the feels, and also stay in your current life. Therapists, coaches, loving community members, clergy, and even hotlines are great places. Facebook may not be your best friend in this area.

Get active. I mean this figuratively and literally for today and tomorrow and next week. Part of turning away from screens is getting your body moving. Take a walk, encounter someone (even if it’s the barista or check out person at Target), jump rope, blow bubbles (makes you breathe deeply), do some stretching, or play catch. Keep doing this until you feel ready to get active in a way that uses your experience today to make change that will prevent further loss of life. I, personally, do this through volunteer work with Moms Demand Action for Gun Sense in America and Everytown for Gun Safety. I’d love to have you join me. There are chapters all around the country. Find them.

It's easy to say "I'll do something about this" on a day where the feelings and shock are kicking us into high gear. It's much harder to maintain this drive to become active in meaningful ways. If you feel called to this kind of action today, make a note in your calendar a month from today to follow up on this urge. Being active between now and the next crisis will help you  and help the world.

Talk to children. The first piece I ever wrote about talking to children about violence was on 9/11. My kids were in elementary school and, after helping their teachers settle their classrooms, I came home and wrote about protecting children from disturbing images on t.v., about giving them opportunities to talk, and to, as Mr. Rogers instructs, direct their attention to the helpers in situations such as this. It pains me to think of how many posts I’ve written since then about how to help children cope with the kinds of violence that are, sadly, growing less uncommon.  Basically, it boils down to the same things. Protect them from images as much as you can. Provide places of screen free comfort in your home (don’t have the news on and, some of the time, don’t check social media). Ask them how they are feeling, what they’ve heard, and what they are afraid or curious about. Yeah them to self soothe. Don’t make false promises but do talk about ways that they can feel safe and empowered. Talking about guns and safe gun storage can be a huge help here (Moms Demand Action’s Be Smart Program is fantastic). Inform them of what to do and how to respond in situations when they encounter guns, violence, or media content they know isn’t safe. Point them toward the helpers who emerge in times like this and lead by example in becoming one of those helpers by helping them actively get through this week and month and by honoring those lost in active ways.

I’m sure I’ll have more to say when I have had time to take this all in, to feel all the feels, to soothe a bit of the horrifically sharp edges that this day has offered. I’m sure you have plenty to say and feel and do today and beyond. May we all, in the midst of all the thoughts and feelings, news and developments,  work to create a more loving, less violent, and more deeply empathically connected world. To that end, please know that I am holding us all (including you…yes, YOU) in Light and Love and wishing you grace and peace as you move through the pain.

Relying on the Stars (or How the Culture of Reviews Shapes Our Experiences)

Summer has wrapped up and (hopefully) we had lots of experiences between June and now. We’ve eaten out and stayed in hotels, we’ve purchased items for our trips and acquired souvenirs on them. Thanks to the hyperconnected web of our cell phone location tracking capabilities, our credit and debit card expenditure records, and our enquiry and purchase histories we are likely being flooded with requests to review our recent experiences and/or purchases. Every time I receive one of these requests, I squirm a little for so many reasons.

Reviews and comments are so personal. What I might love, you might despise and there is little in the typical online review or comment that gives us any context to know this. Reviews and comments are also linked to the moment within which they are penned which inherently ties them to the emotions, experiences, and bias’ of their author in a particular space in time. These factors, plus the relative ease and anonymity afforded by our current online culture of review, make it likely that many of these tomes are written with little regard for the impact they may have. As with so many other parts of our digital interactions, we toss loaded words out and then quickly move on, never observing the impact of the bombs we have lobbed.

This seems especially true when considering reviews written from elevated emotional or reactive states. The old adage “Don’t let the sun go down on your anger” takes on an entirely new meaning when considered alongside today’s reviewing culture. Had a bad day followed by a slower table service than you’d prefer? Bring the full weight of your frustration to your review when prompted to write one as you depart the restaurant. Experience a failure of communication between yourself and the person painting your house? Take to the Internet to express your disappointment. Had to wait a little longer than you’d hoped for your medical appointment, flame the entire practice on every review site you can find. It feels good and powerful to get to voice your frustration, right? Never mind that you might write a very different review if you’d had a better day or let some time pass before you vented.

There are certainly some benefits to an open review system. We can make more informed choices and we can have a better sense of what risks we might be taking. It seems to me, however, that one of the costs of everyone being able to digitally record personal reviews/comments to every situation removes the assessment project from any sense of expertise or qualifications. We simply don’t know who is “qualified” by any specific training, experience, or competency to shape the decisions of where we spend our time, money, and selves. Perhaps no one is, truly, and expert anymore but it would be wise of us, as the consumers of written comments, to acknowledge that the authors might have very little expertise in the subjects on which they write. I don’t eat meat. Any review I write about steak houses should be read with that in mind.

A few weeks back I heard about two young adults in Portland who had benefitted from a non profit peer mentorship program throughout their childhood. When they reached the age at which they could volunteer, they did, helping others as they had been helped. The director of the program stood at a civic meeting I attend and told about how these two bright siblings had recently opened a restaurant (The Big Elephant Kitchen) while at the same time pursuing medical and law school. She mentioned the and address and reminded us that one powerful form of community is found in supporting those who have given of themselves to particular places or causes. I could tell that several of the 40 of us gathered were already making our lunch plans.

When the meeting ended I headed straight for the restaurant. I was humbled when I found it directly across the street from one of my favorite salad spots in town. I quickly realized that it was a place my husband had suggested that we check out recently when I had planned on a salad. I adore Indian food and it’s “Just Opened” sign suggested theirs was spicy and authentic. He guessed I would love it. Without thinking, I had responded to his suggestion with, “I don’t want to take a chance. Let’s give them a while to work out the kinks.” 

As I stood there now seeing the facade with completely new (and actually informed) eyes, my own words from hundreds of talks came flooding into my mind. As a person who is all about fiery embodied experiences I have encouraged countless people to risk food poisoning rather than reading reviews before trying a new restaurant. Part of living a fiery life is not always knowing what you’re getting, requiring you to take risks that might just pay off with rewards barely imaginable. I had been offered this chance and had passed. I felt sad. 

I entered the cozy dining room and was welcomed with the smells of curry and cardamom. As I ordered I asked the young woman at the register if she was one of the bright souls spoken of in my meeting that morning. She replied that she was, in fact, one of the siblings who owns the business. She expressed huge gratitude for the woman who had spoken about her in the meeting and the non profit that she heads. She was humbled that her new little business had been promoted in such a bold way. 

I received my (unbelievably delicious) order and raved and gushed and thanked and praised through my meal. As I paid, the precious young restaurant owner shared that business had been booming until a recently penned poor review on Yelp had impacted their 5 star rating. My heart sank. Back in my car and on my phone I found an abundance of Yelp reviews claiming that this restaurant has the most authentic Indian offerings in our city. Then one reviewer (whose most favorable reviews are for chain fast food restaurants) was so extreme that it had the power to knock a star off their rating. Even more importantly, it had impacted their business. I wondered if the writer realized the power of their words or if they cared about the impact they might have.

New experiences can stretch us. Whether they are positive or negative there is usually something that can be gleaned from the having of them. When we rely solely on reviews to direct us to the best of the best we lose a bit of adventure available to us. With so much of our lives lived online we can now anticipate experiences with startling accurate expertise. We know what a place looks like, what the menu contains, and when to arrive to avoid a wait. We know which practitioner to ask for, which location is the brightest/cleanest/hippest/etc, and can often order and pay ahead online, allowing us to skip human interaction altogether. This robs us of the chance to learn to take risks, to trust our instincts, to have experiences that stretch us, and to rely upon our own selves rather than on the community of reviewers.

As much as we might want to deny it, reviews (along with the the infamous “Comments” section following most content in nearly all online gathering spaces) have the potential to guide much of our behavior and influence the way in which we have experiences. I believe that we have responsibilities as both the authors and readers of these powerful evaluative pieces of writing. With the hope of encouraging more civil discourse and critique-free, fiery living I offer some ideas for writing and reading reviews here.

When writing reviews:

Realize that people are personally impacted by your reviews. If not financially then, certainly, emotionally. Ask yourself, “Did I give the person/business I am reviewing the opportunity to fix things before I left?” “Is there a way that I can word this that is not personal or shaming?” “I am qualified to write this review?” “Would I speak this review, face to face, to the person/business I am reviewing?”

If the place you feel most powerful and influential is in writing and posting negative reviews, take a pause and check yourself. If this is the case for you, find some other places to offer your opinions. Preferably in places where people can also offer theirs in the spirit of mutual respect and opportunity. Ask yourself if you are seeking negative experiences in order to confirm a pre-existing bias or belief that things are mostly subpar. Review your need for power and influence and also for attention. Find healthy places to get all three. Weighing in on a person or entities performance is a privilege, take care not to misuse your power.

The best time for a less than great review is during the experience itself. If you are disappointed with the food you’ve been served, the service you’ve received, or the product that has been presented, it is best to let the server/business know right then and there. Giving someone the opportunity to fix whatever is creating the discontentment is the most kind and respect driven option. Doing so without shaming or harsh language is optimal (and gets amazing responses).

Take responsibility for your part of the encounter/experience. Every single one of us has bias’ and preferences. Owning them is not only important, it’s responsible. I am a person who loves to experience things by trying them without much foreknowledge. If I happen to have a server who loves to explain things thoroughly it would be highly unkind for me to review their performance as “belabored, over involved, and slow.” We simply aren’t a match and my dislike of their style has only to do with my bias. If you can’t stop yourself from reviewing something that you are predisposed not to like, own that in what you write. It is only fair. Similarly, if you are a person who sees the world in a “less than” or negative light, own that as well. We often invite the service or product we receive. Take responsibility when that is true.

If you’ve considered the points above and still feel compelled to write a negative review, follow these guidelines:

Be specific about what you are reviewing. Don’t trash the entire establishment because one of your side dishes was cold or your server was struggling. 

Consider identifying at least one positive to neutral part of your experience to balance the complaint.

Give yourself some time between the experience and the writing of the review. When emotions are high and disappointment is fresh your review might be spicy but rarely in a way that is actually helpful or fully grounded. 

Remember that your review is as much a reflection of you as it is the experience.

When reading/using reviews:

Make a conscious decision about how much you want any particular community of reviewers to dictate your experiences. When time or money are limited and/or you really want a specific experience, reviews might be helpful. If, however, you have time and resources to explore, perhaps finding your own “best places” could be growth inducing, rewarding, and fun).

See reviews as a form of “weighing in” rather than as public service announcements. They are, largely, opinions and are based on experiences between fallible humans. Recognize them as such and let your own “gut,” preferences, and whims drive your decisions at least a bulk of the time.

If you’re in Portland and want to partake in the wonder of the restaurant I describe (The Big Elephant Kitchen) you can find out all about it here. 

summer and tech: the Pre Pinterest Era (pursuing experience over perfection)

Contrary to popular opinion, parties of all kinds effectively celebrated all manner of people prior to the invention of Pinterest. Homes were also decorated, craft projects commenced, and meals were cooked. It’s true. These things really did occur. I refer to the time wherein these occurrences took place as the Pre Pinterest Era.

Don’t get me wrong. I am not a hater. I understand and appreciate the art and value of curation. I know how helpful it can be to have a digital bulletin board on which to organize and from which to share. I believe, whole heartedly, in offering up great ideas that have worked and in having a place to find the same. I believe that imitation is the best form of flattery and that there is no need to re-invent the wheel. For all of these reasons and more, I respect Pinterest. My feelings, however, are not that simple.

I had the great good fortune of growing up among individuals who were eternally creative (even though many of them claim not to be). I had a mom who tirelessly let me host parties where my classmates built banana splits in each other’s mouths and we tie died in big bowls in the house - on the carpet. My parents let my brother and I move all the furniture out of our living room once to turn it into a Hawaiian paradise for an event and my brother and dad let me give them make overs when it was my turn to choose the family night activity. I had an aunt who manufactured all kinds of adventures for both my brother and I and then involved us in creating the same for her kids. Later, during graduate school, I was influenced by friends such as Carol Mc Queen who hosted all of her kids’ birthday parties at home on a modestly sized outdoor deck. Every party included pinning the tail/nose/flower on whatever object fit the theme and a rousing competition involving dropping a clothespin into a jar while standing on a chair. I’m not kidding when I say that these were popular parties filled with laughing children and smiling parents! These were easier times.

Last month Carol arranged for all her kids and grandkids to come together for a few days at the beach in South Carolina and, missing them all, I invited myself to two days of their reunion. Excited to get to know the spouses and children of the three amazing kids I had cared for during graduate school, I brought activities that would help the grandkids learn about their grandparents and their parents from the time when I was with them all. This was, by the way, in the Pre Pinterest Era. Anyone looking in my suitcase would have been baffled. It contained a package of clothespins, watercolor paints/pencils and brushes, a few drinking straws, nail polish, 7 restaurant order pads, click pens, and a board book for the youngest of the bunch. When I arrived at the hotel I re-considered my meager offerings and became concerned that everyone would think I was nuts. Even though I knew that these same items entertained Martin, Jamie, and Ruth for months on end in our weekly times together I seriously doubted how this small collection of random items would appear to the 9 children I was about to meet and to their married-in parents.

When I arrived late in the evening, I wasn’t sure any of the kids would be up so I came empty handed. Of course, the kids were all awake. Sitting at the table with nothing to connect us I wracked my brain for an idea. Certain that they were far too young to participate in the silly game, “2 Truths and a Lie,” I introduced it anyway since it was the only activity I could think of that would help me get to know them. Immediately, Adam, age 8, was entranced and was surprisingly skilled at the game. Forty minutes later, and several of the other cousins adding themselves in, we were still playing. The next day we gathered in small and large groups to put blobs of watercolor paint on paper and then blow it with straws to make patterns. We played restaurant, taking everyone’s orders and serving large trays of invisible food and, finally, invested almost an hour in the most popular activity of all…dropping clothes pins into a jar while standing on a chair. I’m not kidding when I tell you that all of the kids (with the exception of the two babies), lined up in order of age (which ranged from 3 to 13) and performed round after round of clothespin dropping while I told them stories about how their parent’s had done the same. It is fair to say that my meager and somewhat bizarre collection served their purpose. We had the tools we needed to get to know one another, to play together, and to bond. I felt immensely grateful that Carol and others had taught me these skills early on in my life.

It turns out that, while all the plotting, planning, purchasing, and perfecting that Pinterest affords may be fun (or expected or demanded or desired or pursued), it may not be necessary for a meaningful celebration. In my time with the Mc Queens I had to work within the scope of being out of my known environment and in keeping with FAA requirements for carry on luggage. This provided me with a valuable reminder: it is not the product that is always of utmost importance, but, rather, the process which affords encounter and experience.

Sites like Pinterest (or, perhaps, the way in which we engage them) have a profound influence on our ability to stay focused on the process of creating or being together or, even, of decorating a home. They provide an overwhelming stream of ideas and an abundance of images of the end products. They never stop giving us “just one more” perfect decoration to add, recipe to try, craft project to consider and they present each of their offerings with perfectly staged photos that dare us to try to match them. 

I have come to think of Pinterest in the same way that I think about the parent that completes their second grader’s diorama. They sort of ruin it for the rest of us. I know you know what I mean. You go to Back to School night and “Ooh” and “Aah” at all the awkwardly placed items and zigzaggy cutting of second graders until you come across the one diorama that is just (how can I say it??) perfect. It looks sort of like a second grader made it but the cuts are too straight and the perspective too exacting and everything is just, well, too amazingly pulled off to have been imagined and created by the sticky fingers of a seven year old. Suddenly, all of your childs’ effort seems underwhelming when it’s next to this stunning example of execution. 

Of all the things that the Internet has provided, the tendency to scan, savor, and selectively remember the successes and abundance of others in order to compare ourselves against them seems like one of the most ever-present. I challenge us all to consider at least brief respites into the Pre Pinterest Era as we plan our summer celebrations, craft time with children, or even adorning our homes. I encourage us to play with the idea of elevating the process over the content, of working with what we have, and of seeing that as enough. Then to turn and do that for others. To congratulate all the metaphorical second graders in our lives for doing their best work regardless of the outcome. To engage in life that is not curated or perfect, at least some of the time, and to rely upon our own imaginations some of the time rather than always referring to the dictionary of “just right.”

To get you started, here are some ideas to get you off of Pinterest and into a world of realistic and intentionally chosen actions.

Choose a spotting point to drive your preparations and the event. Static images can easily give the idea that ALL of the parts of a celebration are “en pointe.” The food, the decor, the stylishly arriving guests. Similarly, photos of craft projects or decorated rooms can be perfected before being taken. Decide, for yourself, what your primary goal is. Is it the process of making something? Is it the experience of playing with some new mediums? Is the goal of your gathering to encounter people, to serve amazing food, OR to have every corner decorated? List your possible goals then choose ONE with intention and forethought. Let the others go. No one will notice the store bought food if you are directing them toward the goal of encountering each other as the main event. 

Work to let the competing spotting points go. Keep referring to your list, releasing the goals you are not focusing on and re-choosing the one you have committed to. You may have to do this over and over and over in order to successfully accomplish it. It is worth the work.

Use what you have. Commit to at least one gathering or crafting time (or whatever you are choosing to work on) where you purchase nothing new. Decorate a room with things you have in other rooms. Make up party games or activities with what you have. Invite people over for a fridge cleaning party where you empty yours and invite them to bring whatever they need to get rid of in theirs. When we indulge the idea that everything CAN and WILL be perfect we are also teaching others that we need and/or expect this from them. This is especially consequential for children. Do them the favor of showing them that what you have is good enough and, actually, can be more than wonderful. Being resourceful is a gift and it’s one we rarely practice any more. Work to build this skill in yourself. (If you really can’t bring yourself to pull this one off, host a tacky party. The whole goal is tacky, mismatched, what-you-haveness.”

Consider the memories of the party rather than the photographs of the party. As I talk with people about the tendency to try to pull of perfection as a result of curated inspiration boards I hear a lot of descriptions that sound like photographs. We think in images and hold ourselves to create the images we imagine. Instead, begin to challenge yourself to think in feelings or intentions. Rather than thinking, “I can picture everyone out on the torch and candle lit patio with glowing mint mojitos,” think, “I would love to create a space where every person feels uniquely welcomed.” Rather than approaching a craft time by thinking “I’m going to hang this in the entry way,” consider, “I’m going to fully notice how the paint feels when it leaves my brush.” Work from there.

Ask yourself, “Who am I doing each action involved in this event/happening for?/Why am I spending energy/money/time on each particular action?” If your answer is anything like “To impress (fill in the blank with the name of the host or hostess you most admire) and make everyone notice how talented I am.” let it go. See what it feels like to return to your chosen goal (rather than to try to choose ALL the goals) and keep trying to stick with it.

Arrive at the party/event/craft time/whatever you have chosen rested, with energy, and with a firm eye on your chosen spotting point. Give yourself a deadline well before the event or activity and stop prepping. Use the time to rest, have a cup of tea, do something rejuvenating for yourself. Truly. Since we have access to new ideas 24 hours a day and can have things delivered to us within hours we now press ourselves to keep pursuing perfection up the the moment people arrive or we begin our project. Try something new. Arrive at the time of execution rested, calm, and ready to hold true to your own chosen goal. If you don’t have everything you “need” find a way to either do without it or substitute something you have. You’ve got this…I know you do.

See “failure” as an opportunity for learning and growth. Some of my most cherished memories are the result of what could be considered failures. The time I accidentally used salt rather than sugar in the pancakes for a big breakfast gathering. The outdoor wedding I was coordinating where it poured rain and we held it outside without umbrellas anyway. Or the year I threw my dad a 70th birthday party when he was really turning 71. I know you have your stories to. Embracing who we are and what we have and learning to celebrate that is a gift. See if you can’t give this to yourself and others in order to celebrate process over content and encounter over perfection.

summer and tech: primal screens & how to respond

It’s July 6th and summer is, quite officially, here. With how quickly time passes, I know I will blink my eyes and the crush of back to school will be upon us. For this reason, I invite you to stop whatever you were doing before you stumbled upon this post. I encourage you to bring your full attention to the ideas here rather than simply skimming through them on the way to your next web destination. Perhaps you can close your eyes (after you read this sentence), take a few deep breaths, and find center. Here in the U.S. we have about 6 - 8 weeks of what we call summer. Let’s take a few minutes to think about them with intention. 

(Take that break here. Really.) 

I recently shared a popular U.S. “destination city” and a few airplane rides with a lot of folks who were, as my Irish friends might say, “on holiday.” Not surprisingly, everywhere I looked I saw the new American posture: hands held at chest height, backs hunched, eyes gazing downward, faces lit by screens. Tempted by and tethered to my own smartphone as camera, map, guide “book,” boarding pass, and communication device, I noticed how much my recreation time has come to include a primary attachment to screens. There I was, a person who encourages embodied living, pulling my phone out every time I witnessed something of note. Since I was traveling alone it was all too easy to loose myself in texts to those back home, to surfing the internet through a meal, or to any number or ways of letting my device be my primary travel companion. This got me to noticing both my own behavior and that of others. From this experience I have come up with a list of challenges for myself this summer and I’d like to share them with you. Might you join me in noticing the way in which your primary connection to your screen might impact the way in which you do or do not invade your full body and the spaces it occupies?

Humbly, I offer you some technology free challenges for these remaining days of summer.

Do One Thing at a Time: Given the likelihood that we have fewer externally imposed deadlines in the next several weeks this seems like the perfect time to schedule in a day or two of doing one thing at a time. During the “productivity heavy” months of September through May we often feel as though we can’t afford the potential “incompletes” that might come with doing one thing at a time. In the summer, however, it may be possible to stretch our “to do” lists out an hour or day or more in order to provide time for uni-tasking. This means, taking on only one task at any given moment. This could include doing a work or home task without listening to a podcast or cooking without having the t.v. on. It might mean making a phone call and doing nothing else while we talk or watching a movie without texting or emailing or working while doing so. Very likely we will become frustrated or bored when we try this. We will feel like we are wasting time and may become irritable. If we are committed to the challenge and continue past these initial emotional hurdles, we will, over time, come to a place of paced calm and steadiness which might just make up for the reduction in productivity and speed.

Multitasking is a fancy word for distractibility and takes a toll on our physical, emotional, and intellectual functioning. Given the pace and expectations of modern life, most of us multitask constantly, making ourselves increasingly effective at it over time. It is important for us to provide opportunities for our selves to remember what it feels like to focus on one thing and one thing alone. This action provides the brain with opportunities to sink into what is sometimes referred to as “deep work” and offers our central nervous systems the opportunity to process and function in healthy and realistic manners.

Get Bored (on purpose): In my (well informed) opinion, boredom intolerance is one of the most profound impacts of humanity’s current over-reliance upon technology. Whereas daily life used to offer unavoidable periods of time bereft of stimulation, our current connection to computers in our pockets and screens everywhere around us offers the opposite. Laura Ingalls faced boredom as a function of being alive when she was and many others were like her. Presently, however, boredom is something most people can easily avoid. Standing in line or waiting in traffic? Look at your phone. Between meetings or spending some time in the bathroom? Play another round of (fill in the blank with whatever game you play). Walking or running or driving? Pack every minute of the walk/run/drive with podcasts and playlists. Land on an evening or day with no plans? Text or FaceBook message everyone you know and find something to do. NOW!

There are certain life skills that can only be “caught” or mastered by being presented with opportunities to be bored and then living through them. Boredom tolerance is positively correlated with measures of creativity and flexibility in problem solving. It enhances self regulation skills and can increase our confidence. We are often better friends, more patient family members/co-workers, and better equipped humans when we are not reliant upon being constantly stimulated. When we can tolerate stillness, live (even if only messily) through unaccounted for periods of time without compulsively filling them, and, generally, not need constant entertainment, we are contributing to a more balanced way of living for ourselves and others.

Collect Idle Moments: The small segments of time that emerge “in between the real tasks of our days” are what I refer to as “idle time.” Given the pace at which most of us currently live, these fleeting moments often go completely unnoticed let alone accounted for. With little experience with or value for boredom and/or the need to be still, we fill these moments with productivity. Advancing to a new game level feels more fulfilling, then, than sitting idly between tasks. The problem is that we often spend more time with our screens in these moments than we intend, thereby leaving us feeling pressured in approaching the tasks required of daily life.

I am experimenting with collecting these moments, stacking tasks back to back in order to save a block of minutes rather than using them in the small 3-5 minute chunks of time that present themselves between tasks. This means that I might put my phone or computer in a different part of the house when I am working on physical tasks, completing 30 minutes of work without looking at screens so that I can have 30 full minutes to treat myself to a great book or a conversation with a friend. Or it might mean that I turn off all notifications while I write so that I am not tempted to toggle back and forth to email and Instagram, instead completing my writing task more efficiently and having time “off” when finished.

We often capriciously claim to have “no time” for all manner of things that we assert as being important to us while at the same time giving unlimited time for the mindless task of looking at screen based content. I am convinced that one of the most effective ways of making time for the pursuits we claim to be important is to stop frittering away the small moments of time between tasks in mindless screen engagement in order to save and, later, invest them mindfully instead.

Record Memories/Photographs (some of the time without your phone): There were several experiences on my recent trip where my mind was fully blown and my eyes were overcome with important images. Noticing that grabbing for my phone significantly impacted how I attended to the experiences I was in, I chose to challenge myself to take only a quarter of the pictures I wanted to take. This was, of course, not a scientific process but, rather, one where I became much more highly attuned to why I wanted to record an image and how that might help or hurt my embodied experience. With practice I found that taking a detailed mental account of the sights, smells, sounds, and feelings provided a much richer sense of encoding and experiencing the moment than simply snapping a photo might do. A few times I tried to sketch the experience and at other times I journaled. 

I have more photos than I will ever refer back to or share. With this new system I am elevating a lived experience over a “captured” experience and it feels different in a very beautiful way.

Actually Know Where You Are and Experience It: With my smartphone in my hand it is easy for me to visit a city and state and never have any idea where I’ve been. Google maps gets me where ever I need to go and I can Yelp my way to the “best” meals and experiences. When I rely on these tools, however, I find that I have a diminished awareness of the subtleties of where I am. I don’t like this feeling of mindless navigation so I have changed things up radically. 

I am going back, at least some of the time, to paper maps. I ask locals where I should eat and what I should see. I use my phone to look up things like local high school or college plays and concerts and try to go to them. I look at a bigger picture map before I leave and when I return to make sense of where I’ve been and to honor it as a place full of uniquenesses, quirks, and personality not always found in online travel sites.

Rethink Road Trips and Plane Rides: As humans we get better at those actions that we practice. This means we have become very good at relying on screens for distraction and entertainment. Trips, when we are stuck in the car or on a plane (or train or bus), are the perfect time to try practicing some new skills. There’s no need to read every mom blog on the planet to find the perfect road trip activities or to spend inordinate amounts of money on travel specific games and accoutrements. Instead, grab a pen and some paper and challenge yourself (or your family) to sketch or write poetry. Force yourself to look out the window and notice sites specific to where you are. Practice boredom tolerance or learn to knit or crochet. Do a crossword puzzle (even if/especially if you hate them) or go through the alphabet coming up with something you are grateful for that starts with each letter. Make up stories in your mind about your seat mate or tell a story in the car with each person offering one word in rotation. The goal isn’t Pinterest perfection, it’s simply taking the opportunity of “captivity” to discipline yourself to practice something new.

Try Something New: When our time is at a premium we often feel a need to maximize the very little of it that we have free. If we only have one day a week that is set apart to move at a more personal pace, there is pressure to chose how to use that day carefully. Also, during the months of the traditional academic year, new pursuits often require long and involved commitments. In the summer months a community college class might last a month instead of the 4 months it fills during the school year. 

I find that we make all sorts of assumptions about what there is and is not to experience in our own geographic areas or to learn from those people and resources that we have access to. I also find that these assumptions are frequently wrong. I challenge myself (and invite you) capitalize on the little bits of wiggle room that summer provides to try something I’ve wanted to try but haven’t.* If nothing else, maybe that will be continuing to find ways to keep my screen a secondary (or tertiary) attachment instead of a primary one.

*Let your mind wander about things you’ve always wanted to try. Make a list and include everything that comes to mind. Don’t omit anything. Sit with that list for an day and let the top several ideas rise. When 2 or 3 new things surface as the most desirable, re-focus your brainstorming on how you might break down learning about them or trying them into manageable chunks. Let your mind wander about any resources that might aid you in your attempts before you do research online. If there are no people within your geographic community that can teach you or enable the experience, ask others if they have ideas of how you might carry out learning more or getting to check the item off your list.