The Thin Veneer of Anonymity

You see a post on Facebook that ticks you off. Hey, this is important, and this person should know they are wrong. You leave a sharp rebuttal. You are reading blogs and realize that this person said something you said better last week. So you leave a link to your blog. You discover a link to someone’s new blog or website, and you don’t like it, so you post a Tweet with the mistakes you found.

Why isn’t this successful when you are being authentic? You are showing up in the world exactly the way you are, so why isn’t that a good thing?

Because it’s hard to define yourself in 140 characters (on Twitter) or the line limit Facebook sets. You get to make a point, but it’s hard to see your intention. When we read Facebook, LinkedIn or Twitter feeds, we react emotionally, we reply with the first thing we think. And while “telling it like it is” was great in the mid-’70s, times have changed. Children get away with saying what they think, because they are cute and forgivable. Facebook, LinkedIn and Twitter are less forgiving. Your comments will be visible for years to come.

You are what you say in social media. And what you say may be interpreted as mean spirited by the reader because context is almost entirely missing from the posts we leave. We behave like Angry Birds–slingshotting our chirping, cackling thoughts at others, forgetting that the anonymity of the internet is also detrimental–we are as we appear, not as we know in our hearts we are.

You have to work harder to be authentic on social media sites. Few people check out your profile, most people read what you say and take it for who you are. The biggest problem on social media is the serious disconnect between how we want to show up in the world—our public persona—and who we are in real life, our essential self.

How do you close the gap?

1. Edit yourself. Write what you think, then pretend you are the receiver. Read your post before you make it public. Would you want this said to you? Even if you are right? A few edits for context may help. “In my experience,” or “I think” can change a post from universal proclamation to opinion. It’s still your opinion, but you are owning it.

2. Support more than fix. If people aren’t asking for help, don’t give it. Life in the office has made giving “feedback” one of our natural rights. Let’s be clear–no one likes to be told they are wrong, broken, or not enough. “Feedback” is the new “micromanaging” and it’s more fun when you are dishing it out than when you are spooning it up. Before you give your opinion, make sure you were asked for it. Don’t tell people how to improve, praise them for what they have done well.

You may not be an anonymous as you thought, even on the ‘net. A little old-fashioned etiquette won’t harm you–or your reputation.

3. Leave your guru-ness on your own site. Your social networking profile can show you as a guru, expert, leader, super-achiever or god(ess) of wisdom, but that doesn’t mean the rest of us mortals want your wisdom in our blog comments. Of course you can link your own site in your comment, but only if it meets all three of these criteria: It is highly relevant to the topic thread, you explain why it adds information (the fact you wrote it is not enough), it’s not linked to a site that’s a big ad for your own business.

4. Yes, you are being judged right now. When you post on a social media site, you are showing up the way you want to be seen. We used to dress up to go out; now we judge people by how they show up on blog comments. The people who are reading your posts may be potential customers, your next boss, your soul mate, the hiring manager, your minister, or your jury. Write to them.

5. Anonymous posts say a lot about you. The internet allows us to appear to be anything–a genius, gorgeous, clever, a sniper. My first boss said, “If you don’t want to sign you name to it, ask yourself why not?” When I teach, the evals that require a signature are generally useful and direct. The evals that don’t require a signature are harsher and show a lot more bitterness. Instructors know this. Anonymity isn’t permission to be cruel, it is a revelation of who you really are.

-–Quinn McDonald is a creativity coach who know about screwing up in social media.

Jealousy: How to Work Through It

Your best friend gets a ribbon at an art festival. You’ve got a booth, too, and don’t get a mention, much less a ribbon. You secretly think your work is better than hers. You congratulate her, but the words feel like sawdust in your mouth. Then you begin to feel bad about yourself. You like your friend, and you are jealous of her success.

That emotion dragging your ego around the house is jealousy–a mix of fear and anger, or, your feeling of lack and attack. Fear (lack) that you are not enough to win and anger (attack) that you are being deprived of something that should be yours.

Whether it’s a friend and a prize, or a colleague who gets a promotion, jealousy is a common problem in a culture that values competition.

Jealousy and envy cause similar anguish, but they have different meanings. Jealousy is an emotional resentment of the success of someone who is in the same profession or in the same office. Jealousy is an emotional reaction to behavior or achievement of someone else.

Envy is the feeling of wanting to have what someone else has, and it belongs in a different post.  This post is about feeling jealousy and working on overcoming it.

What to do with these powerful emotions? The first part is the hardest:

Admit to yourself that what you feel is jealousy, not righteous anger or a fit of fairness. Once you admit that you are feeling jealous, you can start to work on what’s bothering you. You can’t solve a problem until you admit you have one. What we resit, persists.

Concentrate on what you feel and where. Is it a sinking feeling in your chest? A tightening in your throat? A burning feeling in your head? Try to remember if you have felt this before. See if you can find the link between the two events. Is your predominant feeling anger? (“They always get. . . .” “It’s so unfair. . .” ) Or fear? (Why don’t I ever get noticed? Does the boss think I’m incompetent?)

Grab your journal. This is for the morning-pages, real-life journal you keep. It’s not for the art journal until you have processed it a lot further. Write down everything you feel. Write down why you feel this way. Don’t try to be rational until you have written down the anger and disappointment and fear.

Once you have cleared the lack and attack, keep writing. You may be surprised what you discover about yourself, including some reasons you feel so weak and helpless. The reason you don’t want anyone else you know well to do better than you.

Talk to a trusted friend or relative. Someone who already knows you are jealous. Ask them not to give you advice, but to witness your emotions. That means choosing someone truly trusted.  You may be surprised that what you say is not what you wrote. Note any differences in your explanations. See where you place blame. See what shortcomings you mention, both in the other person and in yourself. The ones you attribute to the other person are the ones you blame yourself for, whether you want to admit it or not.

Be by yourself. Make a list of the attributes you admire and wish you had that the other person has. Dig deep, and see where you exhibit those attributes, too. Because you do, and you need to honor those attributes instead of being scared of them. The most likely source of jealousy is not feeling certain of skills, talents and gifts. Or feeling that if you have them, you will be responsible for exhibiting them flawlessly.

Make a plan to support and exhibit those positive traits more often. Start by noticing them. If you ignore them, you can’t nurture them. Start to exercise the positive traits when you notice yourself in action. Emphasize them. Then choose to use them.

Be realistic. Other people will win. Others will get praised. It’s a big world with many people. You won’t get all the attention. Choose the characteristic you want to be noticed for and act accordingly.

Keep your mouth shut. Don’t bad mouth others if they win. Even if they win unfairly. Don’t complain to your friends. Don’t try to make yourself feel better by running others down.

The more you learn to depend on your own skills and talents, the less jealous you will feel. If you don’t win this time, you will know you have done your best, and you will know your next move. That’s already one step ahead.

--Quinn McDonald knows about lack and attack. She knows her inner critic and knows she has inner heroes, too.  Photos: Quinn McDonald, Cloud Series, © All rights reserved, 2012.

Different Worlds

She sat across from me in the waiting area at the hair cutting place. She was about 70, stylishly dressed in gray and white, eyes covered by big glasses. Her hair was a bed-tousled, blond and big–1970s Morgan Fairchild big. She had on fake nails, French manicured, so long that she had to touch things with the pads of her fingers.

I have been accused of talking to anybody about anything, but she spoke first. “You already have really short hair,” she said pleasantly, are you getting it cut shorter?”

“No, I had it cut last night, but the color didn’t take, so I’m having the color re-done,” I replied, marveling at her neutral lipstick, outlined in sparkly lip liner.

“I was thinking of having mine done like Snooki had it in People last week,” she said and added, “or the latest Katy Perry, do you know what I mean?”

I shook my head, No.

The woman looked at me. “Didn’t you see last week’s People magazine?” she asked, incredulous.

Again, I shook my head, No.

She looked at me seriously. “You aren’t getting any younger, and you need to keep up with the world around you,” she admonished. “You need to pay attention to the people who make the news.”

I looked at her, realizing with a sort of bump in my reality that we were living on two different planets.

“I don’t think I know who Katy Perry is,” I said slowly, remembering vaguely that I’d seen a trailer for a movie, and seemed to remember something about her being married to a Brit with big hair.

The woman looked at me, horrified. “These are important people in our world. They are part of what we are aware of and talk about every day. Don’t keep up and you’ll be lost.”

I don’t think I’ve talked about Snooki or Katy Perry in the last two months. Maybe six. Or ever.

But it was a good conversation. I realized how many different points of view there are in a small space–a waiting room. And how many more there must be in the world. People who feel that celebrities are their family, their style icons, important part of their lives.

I also realized that I live in a different world. Respecting celebrities’ privacy, all the time, not just when they ask for it. I’m not denigrating the woman, we are just different. Completely. She thought I was out of touch, unaware of the world in which we live, and I wonder what she thinks about SB-1070, the “Papers, please” law that affects immigrants and residents who look like immigrants. She may never have heard of it.

Because just you are sitting next to someone doesn’t mean you live in the same world.

—Quinn McDonald lives in an interesting world and has no desire to wear glittery lip liner.

Caring About the Whole Class

In one of my lives, I’m an instructional designer. I teach adults–create the class, then teach it in a business environment. Mostly writing, but also classes on customer service, ethics, and critical thinking. Teaching is a dream job for me–helping people learn something; learning so much about them.

Help the individual, or. . . .

A few weeks ago, a young man joined the class 20 minutes late. I was explaining some instructions, and he came in and began to tell me why he was late. He didn’t wait for me to recognize him. While still talking, he took a  seat in the back of the class, and began to pack and unpack his backpack. Warning bells buzzed in my head. He could not hold still. He interrupted me to ask questions that I had explained before he came in. I asked him to let me get to a place where the class was busy, then I’d catch him up, about two more minutes.

Five seconds later, he interrupted me again. Was he supposed to fill out this sheet? Yes, I said, and I’ll help you in another minute.

“What do I write on line 2?” he asked, as if he had not heard me.

. . . satisfy the class as a whole?

I gave the class brief instructions, and went to him. He then explained himself. “I have ADD, but I don’t take medication because it will change my personality.” A truly difficult situation. Of course he wanted to own his own personality. And I wanted to treat the entire class fairly. I said that he needed to participate in the class without disrupting the class, but I would help him when he needed it. Then I asked, “What can I do to help?”

“Nothing,” he grinned, “Just let me be me.”

‘Being me’ included constant motion, asking me to repeat sentences three and four times, asking me to spell each word of a sentence he was writing down. When I called on him, he would not be on the same page, but be reading emails or texting. The person next to him would show him which page. He’d then read the sentence and say, “What does this have to do with my life, really?”

I had no idea what to do–help him or keep the class as a whole running smoothly. To do both is the impossible ideal. His seat mate moved at the break. I moved the young man up to the front of the room, where I could give him short, quick answers, without interrupting the class too much.

At lunch, a serious woman with good skills came up and asked, “Why is it that the disrupters get all the attention and those of us who work hard don’t get rewarded?” I felt her anger and pain, too.

“I can’t explain it from that perspective,” I said. “Everyone deserves to learn, and we have a diverse class where not everyone learns at the same pace or the same way. What can I do to you to help you?”

“Get rid of the troublemaker,” she said.

I explained the difficulty he was experiencing and that he could not help himself, just as she had a gift of quick understanding, the other student was restless. But I understood her dissatisfaction, too.

Since then, I’ve wondered about the young man’s need to have his personality unaltered. And about the class’s need to have him take medication that would allow the class to run without so much disruption. I don’t have a solution. We have the Constitutional right to the pursuit of happiness, not happiness itself. But I can imagine a lot of people get lost in the shuffle this way.

—Quinn McDonald is a teacher and creativity coach.

The Fourth of July

There will be no fireworks where I live this year. It is too dry. As I write this, rain is predicted–the first time in four months, but then again, I live in the desert. But even if it rains, no fireworks. Too many wildfires already. Palm trees burn explosively, sending sparks onto dry brush and roofs. I understand, but it will feel different.

Every July, I wonder what it would be like if my parents hadn’t emigrated, hadn’t made a life in America. If I hadn’t been born here, mis-identified by my parents as “our little Native American.” I didn’t understand their mistake till my fifth grade teacher called me Little Raining Cloud. The smallest and youngest in my class, and, unfortunately in a rural school, bad at sports and good at math, I cried a lot. Kids made fun of the way I dressed (hand-me-downs), my European pronunciation of English, and my braids. I could not decipher why they all wanted to sit around me when it came time for tests, when they despised me the rest of the day.

What makes me still and silent on this day of bright celebration, is what has happened to our culture since 9/11. I remember before that day, our country was brash, and open and daring. After that day, fear dominated. We fear immigrants. We fear dark-skinned people. We fear non-Christians. We give up privacy and freedom in exchange for a false sense of protection. We separate the world into “them” and “us.” And “them” are wrong. News, which once was the inviolable ground of neutrality, is now a snipe fest of blame and blood. Common sense is hanging on by its thin fingernails, as we beg the question, believe in correlation instead of cause, and pay no attention to critical thinking because rage and hurled invective is so much more demonstrative of patriotism than calm and rational thinking.

So today, I am carefully sweeping up the shards of my hope, digging in my backpack for leftovers of compassion, and digging out the last few grains of kindness. It may not be much, but I won’t trade them for the more colorful and dramatic fear. I won’t let fear stay in my house or in my heart. I want to be determined in good will, in optimism, in  helping those who need help. Eventually, if you live by the sword, you die by the sword, and I want to live by kindness instead.

—Quinn McDonald is a writer and creativity coach. She is a creativity coach who believes that kindness can transform, one person at a time.

Belonging to Professional Organizations

An association headquartered in Alexandria, VA. Many associations need corrections, although that’s not what this one does. Used under a Creative Commons agreement. Photo by afagan.

You have a list of them on your resume. Professional organizations. If you are an artist, you belong to art organizations, if you develop and teach training programs, you probably belong to a training association. (All associations seem to have an office in Alexandria, VA. I’m not sure if it’s for lobbying ease, or just because some of the best food is in Old Town.)

At their best, organizations help you learn more about your craft or profession, help you associate with people with your interests, help you discover a mentor, and keep you informed about changes in your field.

At worst, associations push you to “certify” in the field for a large amount of money, generally paid by your corporation. Certification generally requires some steps that also cost money, and (again, at worst) don’t increase your skills much.

I’m noticing a trend among professional associations to assume there is a large business writing the membership and certification class checks. Entrepreneurs, small businesses, and individuals are being shunted aside for the bigger fish. This diminishes the association’s reach.

Ying Lowrey, in an article for the IRS entitled “U.S. Sole Proprietorships, A Gender Comparison, 1985-2000“, says, “While the total number of sole proprietorship businesses increased by 49.4 percent between 1985 and 2000, the growth for female sole proprietorships (81.5 percent) was more than twice that of male sole proprietorships (38.9 percent).”

I’ve dropped out of several associations because I can’t regularly attend meetings, or because the focus of the association has shifted to corporate concerns.

While it’s smart to fish where the fish are big and biting, I think it’s a fundamental mistake to ignore the entrepreneur, the sole-proprietor business. Often these small, nimble businesses have the ideas that committees can’t birth, and can roll out services and products faster than a company that must get approval in six departments first.

So, associations–lower your fees for sole-proprietors and include them in your training, programs, and development plans. You will have a loyal group that breathes fresh air into meetings and committees.

—Quinn McDonald is a sole-proprietor of QuinnCreative. She offers creativity coaching, business communications and writing classes and art journaling workshops.

Reveal Your Character

 

Your real character is revealed when you have power over others.

What do you do? How do you use your power? Do you do what has been done to you? Or do you do what you wish had been done to you?

You always have the choice. And it always reveals your character.

--Quinn McDonald is a creativity coach who keeps an art journal.

The Frail Logic of “Meant to Be”

One of my favorite ways to help me make a decision or re-think a problem is to post it on Facebook or Twitter and ask for an opinion. I value other people’s perspectives and ideas. It helps my brain run in new rivers of thought.

Aboriginal art from the Gippsland coast.

The other week I asked a “should-I-or-shouldn’t-I?” question and got clever, good, and thoughtful answers. The one answer that I don’t fall into the flow with is “if it was meant to be, it will happen.”

I’m not a person who believes in predestination–that everything is pre-planned, and people are meat puppets acting out their destiny. It takes away that free-will decision making process that has taught me so much in life. (That’s nicer than saying “I made huge mistakes, and often.”)

And how far can I ride the “meant to be” stream? If my teeth are meant to be flossed, someone will come do it for me? If the mortgage is meant to be paid, someone will send me money? I know, those are far fetched, but I don’t know where the horizon line is in the “meant to be” scheme.

The first peoples of Australia (and Albert Einstein) believe in the Everywhen–a universal time in eternity, where past, present and future are all present.  In that case, I understand that my problem, decision and consequence are all visible at the same time. I can understand that.

For the life of me, I don’t understand that items will fall into my lap if someone (fate? destiny? a god?) declares it “meant to be.” If that were true, then I could work for years toward a goal, which has secretly been declared “not to be” and I wouldn’t know it. Or reach my goal. Or (and this is the big one for me) not know why I’m not getting close to my goal. Some of my finest learning has been discovering why my efforts are (or are not) moving me toward a goal, why failure happened.

Shrugging off failure, ineptness, laziness, as “not meant to be” also means I can sit in the same ineptness and laziness and expect something to work if it is meant to be.

So I’ll continue to be confused until I work it out. You know, if it was meant to be.

—Quinn McDonald is a creativity coach who is watching for an opportunity.

Less Abundance is Enough

The negative self-talk gremlin was in full voice before dawn. I got up because the animals needed out, and my first thought was “It’s 4:45 a.m., and I did not get enough sleep.” Feeling sorry for myself before 5 a.m. isn’t a sign of a full-energy day. I fed the beasts and let them out, and while I waited for them to come back in, I staggered to the computer. it was not quite 5 a.m. and after looking at my to-do list for today, I thought, “I don’t have enough time to get all this done today.”

Agave blossoms on a stem . . .

And then I stopped. I had been up less than half an hour and I was already focusing on what wasn’t there, what I didn’t have, what wasn’t enough. The gremlin was in full voice, singing opera.

One of the emails on my laptop was a seminar on abundance. It promised increased money, respect, happiness, sexual pleasure and satisfaction in life. Not a lot was left out. They were targeting people like me, who wake up and are unhappy before they get dressed. And the word “abundance” seems like the answer to everything you lack.

“Abundance” has become a commodity–something we need to buy and own to make a good life. It’s dangled in front of us like a sale on shoes. Abundance is the new bag or car or something you are missing and you have to pay a speaker so you can get your abundance from someone else.

. . . can be too abundant, too much of a good thing.

And although I am not the sharpest tool in the shed at that hour of the morning, I had two really sharp ideas.

First: No one can sell me abundance. I have to make my own abundance. All by my ownself, as my boy used to say when he was three.

Second: Abundance isn’t a fixed amount of money, or a set salary. It’s not measured in cups, pounds, or bushels. If you ask just about anyone what amount of money it would take to make them feel they have “abundance,” they will pick a number far above the amount they have. Because “having abundance” translates to “more than I have now,” or “I don’t have enough.” Abundance is now seen as lack. And that’s the gremlin’s territory.

I looked at my to-do list. “I have enough time to do what I need if I choose the most important things to do,” I said. Then I made a list of all the things I needed to do so it was clear. Next, I made a list of the three most important things to do. That was my new to-do-now list. Until they were complete, no other work would get done.

And about that lack of sleep? The beasts had come back in, I closed the door, re-set the alarm clock and got another hour of sleep. Still plenty of time to take the morning walk and then get down to work.

When we allow ourselves to classify abundance as what we lack, what we don’t have, what we are missing, we will never have it. We strive for what we don’t have, measure ourselves by what we lack. The gremlin owns us, we are miserable.

When we define abundance as what we already have, and thrive in that standard, then the world shifts. We don’t strive for what we can’t reach, we suddenly have the time we thought we didn’t. When I woke up again at 6:30 a.m., I felt better. I had enough time to achieve the high-priority items. I felt better, calmer, and grateful that I’d had another chance at abundance. Because this time I had it.

-–Quinn McDonald is a writer and certified creativity coach who has enough and is enough. At least for this one day.

Competitive Peer Pressure

Klout sent me a notice. Klout, if you don’t know, is a program that tells you how much you influence your Twitter followers. The notice warned me that I was “falling behind” some of my “peers” in the popularity numbers they make up.

Mean, but popular, girls.

I thought about this a while, wondering what they expected my reaction to be. After all, who cares about an imaginary score, based on arbitrary ideas of influence? A lot of people, I discovered. Three of my friends encouraged me to take some of the steps suggested to become more influential.There’s a nightclub in Manhattan that won’t let you in unless your score is a certain minimum number.

That baffled me. Why would I want to trade some of my privacy to gather non-existent points to pretend I am influential to my Twitter followers? I already know how popular I am on Twitter by how many people come from Twitter to read the blog by clicking on a link.

That need to be told you are popular appears on Facebook, too. There are any number of posts that give a fact, then a challenge. For example: I’m checking to see how carefully you read Facebook. Share if you read this. I know 99% of my friends won’t do it, but I hope you will.” I have no inclination to share those posts. I feel vaguely bullied by them. But not enough to share them. All they are missing is some dire threat of bad luck if you don’t comply.

FourSquare, the annoying program that posts where you are all the time (I don’t care if you are at Joe’s Gas ‘n’ Grill in Seymor, N.J) because it has made you think your friends (and Twitter followers who live in another state) care. Most likely, they do not, unless you are a new driver and the person who cares is your parent.

Of course you have many close friends on Facebook, and if one of them didn’t post, you would call them and ask if they are OK. No? What? You might not notice? Well, there goes your Klout score. And you’ll never be the Mayor of Farmville on FourSquare. I remember when I felt sorry for the people who thought their Twitter friends meant as much as real friends.  Now real isn’t enough. We’re competing with them for attention.  Me? I’m heading to the studio. I feel productive there.

–Quinn McDonald is a creativity coach who helps people with re-invention and change.