Defining Friendships in this “Connected” World

While friendships are such a significant part of our lives as children and young people, adulthood can be a rather lonely time for many of us. That’s likely one reason I was happy when, during an email thread, an email came back to me that said that I had been counted as a friend, of someone for whom I have a lot of respect and who I consider to be a mentor of sorts.

That person then went on to add, “…and not in the Facebook sense but rather as a REAL friend.”

I haven’t talked to that person, in person, since June. We have exchanged brief, business-like emails perhaps twice since then. I was informed of an illness in the family by said friend, and I indicated that I had begun looking for work, part of the reason for the email in fact, I don’t currently know what is going on in the life of this friend, nor does said friend really know what is taking place in my life now. I am not placing blame for the distance that is growing in this case. It was bound to happen, in fact, it is likely the natural consequence of life’s changes in the case of such a relationship, and I did anticipate it, though it is with a bit of sadness that I accept the inevitable.

As I pondered friendships, and the statement that person made about Facebook friends as opposed to “real” friends, I began to wonder if friendship has indeed been redefined in the context of “social media.”

The main reason I would think that a person would deem Facebook, or social media, friendships to be less than authentic would be age, but then, the person who made the statement is not – well, that old – and really, I’m not exactly a young person myself. Still, I rather enjoy the technological advances and the way in which they do allow us to stay connected with people who are not geographically close to us.

Then I thought about the friend collectors, those people who send friend requests to anybody and everybody so that their page says they have 1,975 friends. Those people help make the point that social media friendships may be suspect.

I do have a rule about Facebook friendships; I tell people who are not fans of Facebook that anyone whose friend request I accept must “have a face.” I accept friend requests from people I’ve known in the past and with whom I am glad to have reconnected, and I accept friend requests from people I know now from church, school, work, or other aspects of my life in the real world. I have also accepted the friend requests of a very important group of people in my life, a group of women who I met online, through IVillage message boards, because we all run.

These women were the exception to my “have a face” rule, yet we were all friends before I ever saw their faces, in real life anyway; I had seen pictures of every one of these wonderful women, and most of their families, for a few years before I had the privilege of meeting them for a half marathon in Virginia in a few years ago.

It is these women who truly cause me to question the statement about friendships on Facebook not being real. The friendships I have made with these women mean so much to me. Nearly daily, we check in on a daily thread, to post about our daily training, running, racing, exercising, but also to post about our days, from the mundane to the joys and to the pain, of real life.

I will not share the joys and pains that these women have shared, but I will tell you that we are involved in each other’s lives on an intimate basis, and I will tell you that technology, Facebook in particular in this case, allows us to keep in touch in spite of the fact that we are literally all over the United States.

It is important to note that these women are not the only relationships I have in my life. I have a truly wonderful husband, and I have a good relationship with my sisters and family. I have some friends, I would formerly say “in real life,” but just because I may actually see family and local friends more than I get to see the running group of friends, does not mean that the friendships I have made, and have kept, and truly value, with these Ladies across the miles are any less real.

These women have encouraged me all the way through my latest go ’round with school, have held me up when i thought I wouldn’t make it through some tough problems in my own life, and have cheered my successes, from college graduation to personal bests in races, just as I have tried to support and to cheer them in their lives’ endeavors.

As I think about changing dynamics of relationships, I have come to realize that geographical closeness does not necessarily mean that there is closeness in relationship.

Yes, it is good, and even necessary, to be able to sit down and talk to someone face to face. It is necessary to have someone there at times when we literally need a shoulder to cry on or to feel someone’s arms around us holding us together when we feel like we are falling apart.

These friends of mine would be there for me if they could, and I would be there for them if I could, and I do believe that, if the need arose, some of these friends who live the closest or have the time and or the means would literally, physically be there for each other if the need arose.

While I get it, some of the most “connected” people out there may be some of the least connected when it comes to having intimate relationships, when it comes to my Facebook friends, particularly this group of ladies, I have rarely felt more connected in my life.

As I see it, the distance that separates people has less to do with geographical dynamics than it does with the human dynamics of taking the time to be involved in the lives of those people who we say we care about. The method we use to keep in touch matters less than the fact that we do make that effort to keep in touch.

Until next time, I’ll be listening, whether it’s in person, on the phone, or by reading Facebook posts or texts from my friends.

The Most Wonderful Food of the Year

Not only was it a grey day and getting darker, but it was also cold and rainy. My little sister, 19-years-old at the time, and I had finally arrived at our destination. We had taken the city bus from the college where we were both taking classes out to the area where my husband works so we could head home once he got off work. We were both wet, cold, and tired.

As we went into the mall across the street from my husband’s place of employment, I said to my sister, “We need Starbucks.”

Did we really need Starbucks? Was it necessary for our survival? Of course not, yet at that moment, after a long week of classes and after having endured another 40 minute ride on the city bus and after having gotten wet waiting for the bus, a hot chocolate with whipped cream and a little drizzle of chocolate syrup made the day just a bit better – and made us a little warmer.

I did not indulge in such a treat every day of the semester, nor do I now indulge in such treats every day. I can afford neither the financial cost nor the calorie cost of those kinds of things. Our getting Starbucks on that cold, rainy late autumn day was a conscious choice though. It had been awhile since I had indulged, and I had deemed that cold day a good time to go for it.

At this time of year, when fabulous food and drink seems to be ever-present, we will all hear an abundance of advice on how to deal with all of this food that has become such a part of the holiday season.

Rather than making stripped down versions of favorites, which can actually work in some cases, or rather than attempting total denial of all holiday treats, which rarely works, I suggest to you that making your own, conscious choices might be the way to go.

For me, exercise is generally not a problem during the holiday weeks. While I may adjust my schedule so my long run day isn’t on a day when we have company or at a time when we are visiting family, I generally get my workouts in.

The food, now that can be a problem. Both my family and my in-laws can cook people. That being the case, I started to make the conscious choices about two years ago, to have a strategy of sorts going in. I consider what I want to enjoy, and what I can skip.

I literally only eat stuffing once a year. I plan on having some stuffing on Thursday. I know green bean casserole barely counts as a vegetable dish, but I will have some green bean casserole because I only have green bean casserole at Thanksgiving, and maybe at Christmas if I go home to see my parents. These two indulgences are among the things that I will choose to enjoy this Thanksgiving.

Generally, I allow myself one to two “treat” days per week, and I must then choose what the treat will be, rather than having a mocha with breakfast, chicken fingers for lunch, chips during the football game, and dessert after dinner; it’s not an all day event, but rather a chance to indulge in something that I normally wouldn’t have on a daily basis. Eating can be enjoyable, but no one actually enjoys eating way too much, really – that’s just not fun.

So this coming week, Thanksgiving will be my one treat day, because I likely will eat a few more treats than I would normally eat in one day, if you count stuffing, green bean casserole, and the apple crisp I’m bringing. I will have the carrot salad, which actually is a vegetable dish, and the turkey, and skip the mashed potatoes (can have those anytime) and the yams with marshmallows. But if yams with marshmallows are your thing, go for it, like you needed my permission, right. I’m not judging anyone else’s choices.

Holidays can lend themselves to “over-indulgence,” and if that happens just a few times a year, it’ll be okay; really, it will. Still, as we head into the holiday season with all of the food and festivities, I do suggest being prepared with your choices, for both your enjoyment and for your health. That way, you can minimize the “over-indulgence” when it comes to food, and maximize the indulgence in spending time with the people who mean the most to you.

Until next time, I’ll be listening – to the Lion’s game, and to everyone trying to talk over it, at sister-in-law’s house this Thursday.

Happy Thanksgiving Everyone!

 

 

Landing that Perfect Job…Good Luck!

I am beginning to think that trying to remain positive while searching for employment is like trying to enjoy the scenery while being chased through the woods by a bear.

This is not my first go ’round with having received a well-earned Bachelor’s degree then trying to find work in a specific career field, so I should have known better. To some extent, I did, but having completed another degree, and having graduated with honors – and in a science field no less, caused me to be filled with that youthful excitement and hope that I could start over and do great things.

So I started to send resumes, and I started to get calls or emails for interviews, and I started to really hope I could do great things.

I was ridiculously nervous for my first interview, a long shot at a place that was too far away and was offering too few hours but an established and well reputed fitness facility. In spite of my extreme nervousness, I made it through the interview. Three weeks later, I got the “thanks but no thanks” email. Thus began the decline of the hope of doing great things. Rejection is still rejection after all.

I then had a good first interview with a fairly young, privately owned fitness facility. I received three emails from them indicating they would like me to come for a second interview, all of which I replied to indicating I would indeed like to participate in a second interview. After a few weeks, I finally went for that second interview. I waited 45 minutes for the owner to arrive so we could have that interview, but they offered me a position, contract – said they would send it via email soon.

I have yet to receive a contract.

It might be because I told them, near the end of the second interview, that I cannot drive. It was relevant in discussing my availability. The two interviewers didn’t really try to hide the looks of shock on their faces at hearing that bit of news. Honestly, I wasn’t trying to hide anything. It’s hard to know when to bring that up. Often, it’s not relevant because, if I apply to a position, I am agreeing that I can be at work during the assigned shift.

Perhaps I need to just walk in and say, “Hello, my name is Lorie, and I can’t drive. Now that we’ve got that shocking news out of the way, shall we move on?”

After all that, I was excited to get an interview with another well-established fitness facility – at which I was interviewed by Barbie’s little sister PJ (anyone remember PJ). PJ told me that it was not a serious interview, as I opened up my notebook, prepared to take notes; she said she was just seeing what “the people” were like – to see if they fit into the “huggable environment” that the company has. I got the impression that she thought she was talking to a grandma; she might have fallen out if I had told her I’ll soon be a grandma for real, since my husband’s daughter and her husband are about to become parents.

Whether it was because I was deemed to be over the hill, or whether it was because I wasn’t huggable enough, which one would think a grandma would be, I never got a call for a second interview.

This past week I sent a resume for a part time, morning, position with another “health” company. They too contacted me for an interview. Though the position is hourly, set shift and set hourly pay rate, they told me it was actually a contract position, and that I would have to provide my own liability insurance. Those revelations set off the sketchy meter, so I declined an interview with them.

“With your degree in hand, you can now go out and find that perfect job!” Can you  just hear the enthusiasm in the voice of a commencement speaker as she addresses the graduates? Might as well add pink and purple tulle, a star-shaped wand, and lots of glitter because believing that is as much a fairy tale as believing one will marry the prince or princess and live happily ever after.

While some people, who may – or may not, work hard, just seem to find themselves in the right position, or others just seem to have the right connections, via family or strategically made “friends,” to help them to get where they want to go, the fact is that most of us have to endure rejection, weed through the sketchiness, and get up every day willing to try again in order to find that opportunity that will take us where we want to go. Until next time, I’ll be listening (especially if you have an idea that will get me a job).

Seeing the Best

In my first post, I mentioned that I would share more about my disability in this post, and so I shall, but not quite in the manner I had thought.

While I was a student at WCC, I registered with Learning Support Services (LSS). I had to again accept that I cannot see like a person with normal vision in order to accept assistance available to me to help me succeed. In order to register with LSS, I needed paperwork from my ophthalmologist documenting my disability. Thought I have lived with low vision from birth, I was still surprised to see the details of my disability written out in painful detail. Words like nystagmus, an uncontrolable eye movement, and aphakia, the condition of the eye which often results from cataract removal, which I had done before I was two years old, were written there to describe my eyes. The words that struck me most, though, were the words “zero depth perception.”

It seemed to be at that moment that I began to put a lot of the pieces together – to realize why it was that I could not do so many things I had wanted to do, or not do them well anyway. Why I wasn’t good at racket sports; why I found it hard to express the three-dimensional nature of thing in figure drawing class; why I cannot drive, all of those things and more started to make very sad sense to me.

I have long wished that I could accept my challenges with the graciousness with which I have seen so many others accept their challenges, but I still experience a great sense of loss and anger regarding my disability and the consequences thereof.

Still I do grow a bit each time I see someone who does accept her challenge with graciousness and courage. My mom told me about one such person about a week ago. She shared the story of Lauren Hill, the collegiate basketball player who is now facing the greatest challenge that one can face, the loss of her own life.

I was fortunate to catch both parts of the piece about her “miracle game” on CBS news programs, to see how her dream, to play in one collegiate basketball game with her team, came true, and I was even more fortunate to see the piece about the other team, the group of young women who showed sportsmanship, compassion, and maturity in order to help another person literally live her dream.

I know that one way to better accept the things I cannot change is to look beyond myself and to reach out to others. Thus, I am grateful for the reminder, having seen that lesson lived out by those young athletes who are half my age.

If you haven’t seen the story, I suggest that it will be worth your time.

I’ll be listening  and watching, because in so doing, I become a better person

http://www.cbsnews.com/news/the-other-team/

Why The Listener

I hear a different sound from the wind as it blows through the bright green leaves of spring’s plants than the sound I hear as it blows across a pile of the crisp orange, red, and amber leaves of autumn. I hear the power of the waves when I stand on the shore of Lake Michigan. I hear the soft sounds of a creek as it tumbles over rocks piled in its way. I hear the high school band practicing on a warm, sun-drenched autumn afternoon. I stand motionless on a moonlit winter’s night, and it’s almost as if that icy stillness is somehow audible too.

I like to spend time listening to the sounds of nature, though input from people who have passed through my life has revealed to me that perhaps I listen to more than that.

I sent an email to a professor once and thanked her for an interesting and thought provoking class, Ethical and Legal Issues in Healthcare, a class that could have been difficult at best due to the controversial nature of the subject matter. She replied by saying that she had learned from me the value of listening. Upon pondering her comment, I believe I know why she said that; it was my modus operandi to listen to the verbal tennis matches taking place between a few vocal people on one side of the room and a few vocal people on the other side prior to making a comment on the topic, often near the end of class. I appreciated her insight because it made me aware of the value of what I had been doing just by my nature to hold back and observe first.

 I have been told on more than one occasion that I am a good listener though that trait is not something I sat out to pursue. Sometimes, I listen because I have to. My hearing is quite good; I’ve learned to rely a lot more on hearing for many reasons, the primary one of which is my own safety. I will share more about that part of me in my next post, but I will tell you that I am visually challenged.

I am also wife, daughter, big sister, Aunt Lorie, Coach Lorie, writer, runner, first degree black belt in Hap Ki Do,  student, personal trainer, woman of faith. I chose the title The Listener in part because I do not want to limit myself nor my audience by one aspect of who I am, nor by any one aspect of who you are. Just as the sounds we hear are endless, so the possibilities for this blog are endless.

Until next time, I’ll be listening.