can we go back to handwriting letters and sending them through snailmail?

The following thoughts were inspired by this, which I discovered by way of my new friend Carlos, whom I met through my former-acquaintance-turned-friend Aaron.

And that there, my dearies, is what we call 'networking.' But that's not what I'm writing about in this blopgost. What I'm writing about is communication overload.

How much is too much? How many is too many? Every day, most of us receive at least one electronic message--be it email, text message, or something relating to Facebook--that requires some sort of written follow-up. Some sort of written response. And some of us take an inordinate amount of time to make that necessary (I'm not saying 'required') response.

Why? Why is it so hard to hit 'reply' and type something? Why do we take so long to answer? One message per day isn't a lot, right?

What about 365 messages per year?

Some of you--and here I'm talking to my fellow old folks--will recall the days before email. No, really, such days did exist. They're dim and foggy in my memory, but I swear they really happened. In those days, the riotous heydays of my youth, I received about...oh, let's take a guess on the high side...20 hand- or type-written letters per year that required a hand- or type-written reply. Add to that various greeting cards for holidays and birthday, etc etc, and that number goes up to maybe 50. Maybe. Per year.

So, flash forward (and no, I'm not making a TV reference) to today. If I get one response-required message per day, I'm no longer at 50 per year, I'm at 365.

But I don't get one response-required message per day.

I get an average of 5.

That's 1825 messages per year. And each one requires a response. If I spend only half an hour answering each one, I will spend 38 twenty-four-hour days (24! Count dem! 24 hours! Ah-ah-ah-ah-ahhhhhhh!) out of every year doing nothing but answer messages. That's more than one month per year.

In the inbox of the email account Ed and I use jointly, there are currently 7576 emails. Of these, 667 are unread. I have no idea how many are unanswered. Most times, I feel like closing that account completely and starting from scratch. Except I know that eventually, the new account will look exactly the same, and I'll end up exactly where I am now with all this, which is:

frustrated
overwhelmed
angry with myself
and disappointed in myself, because I know some of those unanswered messages came from people who are disappointed in me for not answering.

I also have this continual, grand plan to answer all the comments I've received on this blog. Haven't been able to get that done, either--and every time I think about it, I feel a painful twinge in the center of my brain.

That twinge is one part irritation and three parts guilt.

At what point is it too much?

I'm so tired of communications-inspired guilt that I'm just tired.

I know 100% for sugar-torting certain I'm not alone in this. How do *you* handle the odious monster guilt blob masquerading as your inbox?

this wasn't supposed to be my first blopgost of the year

...but it's just kinda happening, because I had this thought, and I wanted to record it.

In public.

Sheesh.

I am sick and tired of not saying what I really think.
I am sick and tired of not saying what I really feel.
I am sick and tired of not saying what I really believe.

I am tired of worrying about what other people will think of me.
Oh, I talk a great game of not caring, not letting others' opinions determine the course of my actions, blah de blah blah blah.

But really, in my secret heart, I want you all to like me.
I hate being the recipient of criticism, disapproval, and--o, the horror--rejection.

If I speak the truth about something, and someone responds by chastising me, my heartrate shoots through the roof, and my desire to make it all okay again shoots through the stratosphere.

This is not a healthy reaction on my part.
I have boundary problems.

And I'm sick and tired of it.

I don't want to be the gutless one.
I don't want to cower when a stronger personality tells me I Have No Right To Say _____________.
I don't want to be afraid anymore.

In the religious denomination I grew up in, I was taught to keep my mouth shut about _____________--because expressing my rock-the-boat opinions might lead another person to trip over something and get hurt.

But what if that something isn't even really there?
What about the other person learning to take responsibility for looking at where they're putting their feet?
What if the thing they need most, in order to learn to walk better, is someone (like me?) who will holler at the top of their (my?) voice about the discrepancies and the dis-integrity?

I've been told that a lot of people in this world look up to me.
If that's true, I don't really know why they do that. I'm a continual screw-up--didn't you know?

And one of the ways in which I screw up is by keeping my mouth shut out of cowardice.

Yes, there is a time and a place for expressing my thoughts/feelings/beliefs about certain things. I need to choose wisely ( --> discern) when and in whose company to verbalize these things.

But if I'm staying quiet simply because I ***fear*** others' reactions...then that right there, O Friends and Neighbors, is Screwing Up In Grand Fashion.

So.

Maybe this was the right blopgost to start the New Year with, after all.

in which a clue is finally gotten (pardon my passive)

I just finished reading this Yahoo! article on finance and the "Great Recession--which is technically over, economists insist--", and the following statement jumped out at me:

"Researchers studying long-term trends among American consumers believe that a 20-year spending binge, fueled by easy credit, is over for good."


I wonder if that's true? I hope so. I think it would be a good sign that people are starting to realize we're all in this together--and individual attitudes toward money will determine the financial condition of a nation.

Just a thought.

peace out, or easy out?

There are a lot of things I don't talk about here.

Not because I'm ashamed of my own thoughts or feelings,

and not because I'm afraid of offending someone.


Quite simply, I keep certain opinion and feelings to myself because I just don't want to have to deal with the fallout from people who, I know, will disagree with me and be combative about it.


Does that make me smart and wise for wanting to keep the peace?

Or does that just make me a big chicken?

le fou, i'm afraid i've been thinking...

...but not about wacky old men.

Well, maybe I have. But I don't want to embarrass them by mentioning any names.

Anyway, another thing I've been thinking about (and at this point, I could use the word "pondering," which invites reminiscing on Pinky and the Brain) is the fact that I am not the prolific blogger I once was.

I've now been blogging for 4 & 1/2 years, and it's been an interesting experience. A predominantly positive experience. A good enough experience that I have kept up with it, posting at least once per month for 54 months, minus October and November 2004, when I inexplicably and temporarily lost interest, and October 2006, when Ed's dad had three heart attacks and we were in the States for a month.

Sure, I've never blogged multiple times per day, so I guess I'm not prolific at all, compared with some people. But I'm not comparing myself with some people, I'm comaring myself with me, and me says that I've blopgosted consistently for 4.5 years now, and that makes me prolific. So there.

However, I don't blog nearly as much as I used to, and I think that's a direct result of my novel-writing. I'll let you in on a little secret: I am not witty. You know those people who come up with the perfect puns and terrific turns-of-phrase on the spot, so much so that others tell them, "Hey, you should be writing this stuff down!"? I'm not one of those people. I have only so much brain power to go around. So when I stumble upon one of those literary gems that sparkle in the dark recesses of my brain's Spare Oom, my first thought is not "blog this."

Actually and unfortunately, my first thought usually is, "How can I turn this into a Facebook status update?" But then I take that impulse and beat it into submission so that I might use that sparkly gem not for the evils of FB-status-updating...

...but for the good of The Story.

When you're a writer and you're writing (which is what you should be doing, if you are a writer), everything is for the good of The Story. Snatches of overheard conversation are for the good of The Story. Every weird dream is for the good of The Story. Every attractive fellow human who has an asymmetrical facial feature is for the good of The Story. Every interesting way of saying something is for the good of The Story.

I think that's why I haven't been blogging as much. I've been pouring all my creative energy into The Story--which, of course, is exactly where it should go!--and letting the blog catch whatever happens to be left, which generally isn't much. I'm not bemoaning or bewailing or becomplaining. Just stating facts--and getting out the thoughts that aren't related to wacky old men.

Another pondering has been what will happen to the blog once I start publishing books. Not that I expect to be overrun by rabid fans scouring the intarwebz for snippets of info about me. However, I do keep in mind that there is enough personal information on this blog that someone could find me if they really wanted to--and connect my name on a book with all the personal info on this blog. So, writer that I am, as I ponder this, I begin having visions of stalkers, and weirdos showing up at my door at 11pm, and identity theft, and manic car chases down I-35, and is there Another Story in here somewhere?

Seriously, I could really scare myself with all these potentialities if I carried on. It wouldn't take much. Not much at all.

*sigh*

Anyway, I'm having thoughts about encryptions and passworded blogs and high-tech security and other fun what-ifs. I guess if I had to, I could delete the blog. All I would lose would be the comments; I back up everything else. But I wouldn't want to lose the comments. I like the comments. I adore the comments. If I were the obsessive type, I would print out the comments and wallpaper my bathroom with them.

Comments?

;o)

another very TCK rant, if you can stand it

...and if you can't, stop reading. ;o)

Okay, so a few days ago, I wrote about how I get really irritated when people give me 20 seconds of their attention, then turn me off right as I'm in the middle of answering THEIR question.

This isn't going to be a rant about that again.

But this *is* going to be a rant about something else to which I react with anger.

I'll be brief.


To Whom It May Concern--And You Know Who You Are:

Do not tell me I'm not a "good American" because I get upset when you bash Europe. To my face.

Do not tell me that I sound more German than American in my opinions. If I *am* more German, then it is none of your business.

And do not tell me that I need to decide which country I want to be a citizen of in my heart.
Do not have the audacity, the utter gall to say such a thing to me.

______

I'm done.
______

This isn't a cross-cultural re-entry issue for me. This relates to the ever-difficult, ever-present, life-long struggle of feeling torn between cultures. Even after I complete the current cultural transition phase, this isn't going to go away. I accept that, so please don't anyone worry that I'm having a meltdown. I'm not. I just read something this evening that reminded me of the incident described above, and I realized I'd feel better about it if I aired the dirty laundry in public.

i'm going to try to answer all comments soon

I know I don't have to, nobody's making me, yadda yadda, but I want to. I just haven't done it yet.

You get multiple chocolate chip cookies if you know why all the tags below are relevant. ;o)

purging the soul of negative thoughts that won't change anything

It is an unfortunate and frustrating thing not to be forgiven one's inefficiency.

But if someone refuses to forgive me for mine, it is not my problem.

boundaries

I'm thinking about how unfortunate it is that one person will often promise another person something regarding a third person's behavior. As in, Igor will promise Sam that Detlef will do such-and-such, even though Igor has not previously checked with Detlef about said action. So when ignorant Detlef doesn't do what Igor promised, Sam is disappointed in Detlef and angry with Igor; Igor is on the defensive; and poor Detlef doesn't have a clue what's going on.

Just FYI, I'm not upset about any particular situation; I'm just making some general observations based on some good conversations I had with various people today.

Anyway, the point is:

(A) We each must take responsibility for our own behavior.
(B) We each must allow others to take responsibility for their behavior.
(C) We are disrespecting ourselves and others when we don't follow (A) and (B).

Especially if you have ever been Detlef or Sam, I think you will agree with the validity of these points. You might have a problem with them if you tend more toward being an Igor. ;o)

Not trying to ruffle feathers, just notating some thoughts. ;o)

'you gotta ac-cen-tuate the positive...' /singing

No, I don't *really* have time to do this......but I found the idea on Patricia's blog and thought that even though time is running swiftly through my fingers, I *need* to take the time to do this. It's a little 'spoonful of sugar' that will help improve my attitude, lower my stress level, and remind me to stay positive in the near future.

Okay, so here goes:

10 Things That Recently Made Me Happy

(...Although, overly analytical as I am, I must note that I know nothing can "make" me happy; nothing has that power; the way it really works is that I choose how I react to things and people; my emotions are within my own realm of responsibility. Sorry for the psychological tangent, but I needed to go off on it for my own benefit. ;o) /tangent

Take 2!

10 Things To Which I Recently Reacted In A Most Positive Manner (lol, much eye-rolling) ;oD

In random order....

1. Spending time with lots of sisters at the Ladies' Retreat in Filzmoos, Austria.
1b. Recording with the "5 Sächsy Angels"! ;oD
2. Talking with Matt and Ben, 2 Vienna students who stayed with us last weekend.
3. Allison's email telling me that she enjoyed our talks in Filzmoos.
4. Elsa's statement that Jim isn't lost; we know exactly where he is.
5. Hearing that God had worked things out for Van, Ja-9 and Isa for their university studies.
6. Remembering how much I enjoy autumn.
7. Hearing how much friends and family in Oklahoma are looking forward to seeing us soon.
8. Realizing yet again that God is always there for me and is working to take care of me, especially 'behind-the-scenes' where I am not able to see.
9. Being part of Alex and Barbara's wedding with loved ones and seeing old friends!
10. The privilege of being in a position where I can watch the spiritual growth of people I care about a lot.

And lots of other things too numerous to list. There are so many happy things in life, if we'll only take the time to think about them honestly and write them down.

setting healthy boundaries

Just something I consciously thought of that I wanted to record for future reminding:

Other people have the right to be sad that Ed and I are moving from Chemnitz. They also have the right to express this sadness.

Other people have a right to be happy that we're coming to Oklahoma. They also have the right to express this happiness.

My emotions and my thoughts about moving should not depend on the emotions or the thoughts of others. If they do depend on the emotions and thoughts of others, this means that I am choosing not to set healthy boundaries.

I have the right to be sad that we are moving from Chemnitz. I have the right to be upset that I have to be separated from my friends. I have the right to be frustrated that our necessary decisions have led to this. I have the right to express these things.

I also have the right to be excited about the future positives of living in Oklahoma. And I have the right to express that excitement.

I have the right to say that I am looking forward to good times and grand adventures, and I have the right to say that leaving Chemnitz tears me up inside. I am allowed to feel these things.