Showing posts with label messages. Show all posts
Showing posts with label messages. Show all posts

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Does It Take So Much? [RANTING]

Is this the post that moves from ranting to raving? Have I finally slid off my cracker and landed in the nuthouse? Or am I just an old soul who got lost with one foot inside the door of the future and now doesn't know whether to keep going forward or pull that foot back?

I've been reflecting on the loss of proper etiquette as we try to stay connected to friends and family who have scattered across the world. Keeping in touch should be easy with technology to aid us, but what should be an advantage can prove a hindrance for a variety of reasons. As I reflect upon them, I hope to improve my own communication as well as inspire others to be a little old-fashioned and think of how their interactions change the world around them.

First, we don't value written communication as much as we once did. Many of my friends grew up in a time before the value of words dropped from everything to nothing. They remember to mail cards for birthdays and anniversaries as well as the obligatory Christmas card. They may even give in to the temptation to reconnect for Easter or Halloween. And, of course, they send heartfelt thank you cards for everything. Inspired by such examples, I wrote personalized thank you cards for every gift I received at my baby shower before I had a chance to forget, some even got to their recipient within three days. Many people expressed surprise when I hand-delivered my gratitude. A couple even laughingly advised me that I should have claimed "baby brain" and never expressed my thanks.

This leads into my second observation, the new norm involves planning to respond when it is more convenient or conveniently forgetting. As a new mom, this has happened more than I care to admit. You read an email, start to formulate an answer, and then the crying starts. After offering comfort or food or cleaning up an explosion (poop-xplosion?), you forget to finish your missive. When prompted again to provide an answer, I include an apology with a quickly-worded response. By this point, I assume questions will follow if my response proves illogical or doesn't cover all the questions. I try not to get defensive about the repeat question. After all, I have needed to ask followup questions on more than one occasion. When the response proved defensive, I tried to smooth the ruffled feathers. When I still didn't get the answer or got another angry response, I confess I've let some friendships lapse. It shouldn't feel like a full-time job to get an answer to a simple question, especially when a "yes", "no", or "I'll have to check" would easily set my worries to rest.

My third difficulty comes as a result of so many available ways to communicate. Should I tweet, email, message, text, call, snapchat, send smoke signals...? Once someone establishes their preferred method of communication, exchanging information and extending invites becomes much easier. Though some people still refuse to respond no matter how careful you are to use the appropriate means of contact. Is it hard to be honest about how you wish to be contacted? 

THERE'S MORE:

In order to clarify for those who may wonder why so many people don't want to talk to a charmer like me, I should provide additional information. My church (The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints) has a couple of programs that I compare to a phone tree. The program for women goes by the moniker "visiting teaching". Two women receive a list with a couple of names of other sisters in their local church (ward). They are counseled to visit those sisters each month, bring them a message, and make sure their needs, both spiritual and temporal, are being met. They report back to another sister (supervisor) who reports back to the head (president) of the women's organization of the church (Relief Society). In this way, any needs or concerns can be met without the Relief Society President needing to call the hundred plus women in her ward each month. (Men participate in a similar program called "home teaching". They get the added responsibility of teaching entire families).

As one of the supervisors, I need to contact other women from my ward to ask if they visited with the sisters on their list. Sadly, real life often keeps us from making the ideal visit (set up an appointment, arrive early to briefly meet with the sister helping you teach, knock on the door, go inside, chat a little to see how the sister and her family are doing, have an opening prayer, have a lesson, see if there is something you can do to help, have a closing prayer, present a treat). At the moment that we are being asked to account for our faithfulness in visiting teaching, we can become defensive. After a few months, creative methods must be used to avoid speaking to the person who keeps prompting us to admit our shortcomings. As the person being avoided, my feelings get hurt from time to time and some months I send one email and then try to catch them in person where I hope my smile can assure them that I come in peace.

WHAT CAN I DO?

My quick take on what I can do regardless of which side of the communication barrier I stand:

1. Be honest. Be honest about what you need and how you feel.
2. Be consistent. Don't change your opinion on how you want to contacted every day or get upset when someone calls when you said to call or emails when you said to email.
3. Be polite. Don't resort to name calling or nasty jabs. Just repeat your question if you must or send a short civil response.
4. Be empathetic. We don't all think alike, so keep in mind that the person you are communicating with may think differently than you and take that into account before sending off a nasty email or letting your feelings be hurt.
5. Respond promptly. Even if you only have time to send a "yes" or a "no", that lets the person know you got their message. Also, that frequently answers the question and lets the other person move forward. (And if you must do some research, try to get that done and your findings reported as swiftly as possible. It clears up your backlog of tasks to complete, too.) I've seen some wise advice that may help in most of these situations: only look at an email, text, etc. once. Respond immediately and move onto to the next missive.

Should I say more???

Thursday, January 17, 2013

I Will Love You

The last two posts didn't seem to pull my readers into a new year full of words and excitement, so here is another offering from the confused mind of sugar-laden lady. What do you think?


Some days, I realized I needed to be more organized. On this particular day, I had already searched all of the logical places for a receipt that I needed. Without it, the office wouldn’t reimburse the cost of my recent business trip. My search finally brought me to my hall closet where all my scraps of paper went to be forgotten. I grabbed the top box, quickly setting it aside as removing the lid sent up a cloud of glitter from Christmas cards of years past.

Stepping further into the closet, I pulled another shoebox from the stack. The boxes on top of it plopped to the floor, spilling papers around my feet. I glanced at them before opening the box in my hand, tossing the lid to the floor as I scanned the contents. Only a couple of receipts nestled among old letters and newspaper clippings.

“Where did I put that receipt?” I grumbled as I knelt down to reclaim the box lid.

My name leaped out from one of the spilled papers. I frowned at the unfamiliar handwriting, reaching for the folded page with one hand as the box slipped from the other. My mouth twisted as I scanned the tightly penned words on the page.

My beloved Bella,

Thank you so much for teaching me what love is. I cannot wait to hold you in my arms again. I know my words will never be as eloquent as yours, so I close this brief letter with the three most important words I have ever said: I Love You.

Always,

James

I scanned the letter again. Who is James? I’ve never seen this letter before.

I picked up the envelope on top of the pile and looked at it. My mouth dropped open. JUL 15 2020

I rubbed my eyes, and looked at the date again. JUL 15 2020 BALTIMORE

“How can that be?”

As I pushed myself up from the floor, a cascade of boxes tumbled toward me. My own voice falsely echoed my words.

“Where can that be?”

As I turned toward the voice, which could not be mine, a hazy form snapped into focus. My own face with seven more years of living parodied my mother’s except for the laughter in those dark eyes.

“Oh?” My aged self surveyed me for a moment. “Is this the day that happens?”

My own tongue remained glued to the top of my mouth.

“I know you’re confused and a little scared, Bella, but I have five minutes to tell you how to make your dreams come true, so listen to me. First, never ever completely clean this closet. Those jokes about marines being lost in here aren’t true, but something else seems to be happening. Don’t fall in love with the first guy who claims he loves you or the second or the third. Wait until work sends you on a trip to Baltimore. You’ll meet James there. Don’t sweat it, he’ll get your number.”

As her words gushed out, she began to fade. Offering one final piece of advice, she disappeared. “Don’t worry so much. I will love you no matter what, and so will he.”

I looked back down at my hand but found it empty. Papers still lined the floor of the closet, but each one possessed a date from the past not the future.

“Don’t sweat it?” I asked myself as I began raking the pages together and stuffing them untidily into shoe boxes.

Stunned I stepped back into the smaller bedroom I used as an office. As I sank heavily into the wooden chair in front of my ancient desktop, I noticed a slip of paper draped across the monitor. I picked it up, idly realizing I had found my receipt. My confused mind noted it before wandering back to the advice of my future self.

In seven years, I’ll be in love…with a man from Baltimore?