Q: Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking

       I have identified myself for years as an introvert who has learned how to play the extrovert role.  It is important in my work to be social and engaging and to make with the chit chat.  I do it all day.  It is exhausting.  When I get home from work, all I really want is SILENCE.  I want to be alone with myself.  I want to retreat.  My idea of a great weekend is one where I can read, paint, walk alone, write, futz in the yard, that sort of solitary pursuit.  Okay, I will go to the beach with my family or go out to dinner with the mister and that can be relaxing but I won't do baby showers, family fun nights, spectator sports events, cocktail parties, or anything where I have to be with a bunch of people that I don't know well and where I have to make with the chit chat.  That is the last thing I want on a weekend.

        When my children were younger, I forced myself to get out there and mingle.  That's what you do for your kids.  I tried to get them to mingle too.  Aren't you supposed to that too?  After they went off to college, I got to remember again what it is like to come home and not have to do all that stuff.  I started to just say no.  No to evening volunteer things, no to school social gatherings, no to casual drinks at the local watering hole on Fridays after work.  I started to be more comfortable with the introvert that I am.

    As Susan Cain demonstrates in her book Quiet: The Power of Introverts in a World That Can't Stop Talking, the cultural ideal has become one of extraversion.  In her opening chapters she delineates how extroversion came to be the norm.  I was flabbergasted to read that child rearing experts in the 50's and 60's promoted the idea that outgoing, extroverted personalities were the ticket (the best ticket) to success.  Parents were told to push the child who wanted to go within, out.  A kid who liked solitude and reading and quieter activities (though not necessarily a shy kid) was seen as somehow defective.  Parents in mid 20th century were told they shouldn't accept this behavior.  I am so grateful that my parents didn't heed this piece of so called wisdom.  Instead, imagination was encouraged, reading was king, and a child who could entertain herself was seen as a blessing.

     I am tempted to summarize all of the subjects covered in this book but another way to convey her ideas is to refer you to  Susan Cain's Manifesto.  Some of the points she makes include:

1. There's a word for "people who are in their heads too much": thinkers.

2. Our culture rightly admires risk-takers, but we need our "heed-takers" more than ever.

3. Solitude is a catalyst for innovation.

4. We teach kids in group classrooms not because this is the best way to learn but because it's cost-efficient, and what else would we do with the children while all the grown-ups are at work? If your child prefers to work autonomously and socialize one-on-one, there's nothing wrong with her; she just happens not to fit the model.

5. The next generation of quiet kids can and should be raised to know their own strength.

6. Sometimes it helps to be a pretend-extrovert. There's always time to be quiet later.

7. But in the long run, staying true to your temperament is the key to finding work you love and work that matters.

8. Everyone shines, given the right lighting. For some, it's a Broadway spotlight, for others, a lamplit desk.

9. It's OK to cross the street to avoid making small talk.

10. "Quiet leadership" is not an oxymoron.

11. If the task of the first half of life is to put yourself out there, the task of the second half is to make sense of where you've been.

12. Love is essential, gregariousness is optional.

Susan Cain explores introversion through psychological research old and new, personal experiences, and even brain chemistry.  The information is delivered in an engaging and highly-readable fashion. It's well worth a trip to the library.

P: Parenthood: Stuff They Never Told You

     It's amazing, this whole parenthood thing.  Before you have children, it's really tough to completely understand the whole parenthood picture.  In general, the culture feeds the masses this wonderful, tender portrait of the parent/child relationship.  Comments like, "It's the best thing that ever happened to me"  or  "Oh, he is so cute" or "Isn't her outfit adorable?" all seemingly conspire to make non parents want to take the leap into parenthood.  The soft and tender images of newborns, the sense that people "should" have children, the marketing that goes into creating the all American perfect family, all of this stuff serves to make it seem as if being a parent is definitely worth the price you pay.

    Don't get me wrong.  I am not suggesting that it isn't worth it but there is a part of me that wants to warn non parents that the job is much more difficult than you ever expected.   Here's the thing.  Being a responsible, attentive parent requires that you give and give and give.  From the get go, you are giving away your freedom.  You no longer have all those choices for what to do with your discretionary time.  You also give up your ability to sleep when you want to sleep.  From the get go, you are giving up a TON of money - all those medical expenses, food and clothing items, baby gear, and babysitters in the beginning all the way through lessons, school pictures, birthday presents for a million kid birthday parties, yearbooks, sports, tutors, and then, perhaps college.  That's a  lot of money.  From the get go, you are giving up your heart.  Every time your baby/child is hurting, you are hurting.  And it doesn't stop when they no longer live at home.


      I guess what I am saying here is that a baby's cuteness is an evolutionary survival mechanism.  There are going to be a million hugs, slobbery kisses, and smiles AND there are going to be a million difficult moments.  The difficult moments don't stop when the child is asleep (because that's when you are balancing the checkbook or desperately hoping to sleep yourself).  In the wise words of fellow blogger Melanie Crutchfield**           (words to which non parents would be advised to listen), "Having kids is not about what you get from them.  It's about giving to them.  In perpetuity."

Amen, Sistah!

** Melanie Crutchfield writes  a very cool and engaging blog  - I think the blog title is a simple, "Hello".

O: October

 Hello, October,

      I know you have read my love letters to April and July.  And I know that you know damn well that there is no love letter coming your way.  I do try to embrace you.  Really I do.  I know so many people who count you among their loved ones but I can't seem to get beyond merely tolerating you.  Those beautiful red, golden, brown, green colors for which you are so revered?  To me they become the funeral flowers for spring and summer.  Every day you cut back my light and that saddens me.  And the thing is, the light you bring in the late afternoon is as sharp and annoying as a sliver of glass on my bare foot.
There is something keenly electric, something physically shocking about often hot dry winds of October.  I don't like them.  They bring crackles and fire to town.

   
          Some people think Halloween makes you the best but I am sure you read my thoughts on that.  In a nutshell, Halloween was okay fifty years ago when it was relatively non commercial and mostly about kids but it has since grown into a greedy, creepy day.  Halloween is no reason for me to love you.



   


     









       And, truly, you sealed your fate in my book when, in mid stride one year, you took my father away.  You didn't even warn us.  You came early in the morning and you took him and for that I can never forgive you.  In fairness, once upon a time, you gave me my mother and you blessed my parents' wedding day but still, you were acting in character when you took my father.

 
      I will continue to tolerate you because that's the kind of person I am.  I am not about hatred or meanness but I can't and won't love everyone, including you.  I certainly won't slam the door on you and I will always look for the good in you but you gotta know, I can't write you a love letter today.

Yours truly,
Gracie

Graciewilde

       An explanation is in order..... a long time ago, I created and used a pen name that I liked.  I even wrote about my alter ego here.  This evening as I was checking for something else, I found the "Edit Profile" piece for my blog.  Go figure.  I didn't remember how I got the "Sebtown 294" moniker but it doesn't really fit.  Graciewilde does.  So, what the heck, Sebtown 294 has laid the foundation for Graciewilde and she is now ready to assume her full identity on this blog.

Hello, Gracie!

N: New York City

      Okay, so I know for those in my audience who live either near or in NYC, this post might be a bore but I just have to give the letter N to New York City.  The comparable place in my world is San Francisco.  San Francisco is quirky and charming with a plethora of cultural opportunities and fantastic natural beauty and views.  But New York CIty?  Oh my!  NYC has  energy unlike any other place.  It is powerful and electric.  It has neighborhoods packed with their own charm and stories.  There is so much history and cultural background in New York.   I wanted to go there for decades but I didn't want to go blind.  I wanted to go with a seasoned New Yorker or, at least, a seasoned New York visitor.  Three years ago, my brother Brian, an experienced New York traveler, and I did a New York adventure together.    His son Tim and Tim's fiance Sierra live in Queens and Brian has traveled there often enough to know the ins and outs of the city.

      That adventure was one of a kind.  I was a kid in a candy store!  Really!  I was delighted to see and do anything.  Brian, Tim, and Sierra went out of their way to make my stay there memorable.  Brian and I spent very little time at our hotel room and tons of time on foot and on the subway getting around.

New York City gave me everything I thought it would.  I loved the people and had not one single negative interaction.  Sure, there were the street beggars and the homeless but I know them from SF and, they are not bad people.  Just different from me.  I loved tasting the flavor of NYC and walking in the places (like Central Park and Wall Street and Brooklyn where the tree grows) that I have always read about.  Unforgettable. 

      And here's the exciting news:  I get to go there again.  THIS WEEK! Thursday, as a matter of fact.  Remember Tim and Sierra from above?  They are getting married on Saturday and I was honored (and, honestly, floored) to be asked by them to be the officiant at their wedding.  Stay tuned for more NYC photos soon.  For now, here is a handful of images that show my wide eyed embrace of the Big Apple.

Yup, that says it all.....

M: Middle School Meanderings

     Oddly enough (to some people anyway) one of my favorite parts of the day in my work world is lunchtime.  No, not MY lunchtime but the student lunchtime at the CA middle school where I am a guidance counselor.  I am one of several adults who provide supervision on campus at that free time yet I do a great deal more than supervise.  Allow me to illustrate what lunchtime supervision involves.

    The lunch bell rings at 12:35 and I head out from the office to see what's up out there today.  Generally I first tour over to where many of our 8th graders eat.  These guys always intrigue me.  What are they wearing today?  Who is visiting with whom?  Who seems isolated or upset today?  How is the kid whose grandmother is in the hospital?  Did that girl pass her science test? Lots of greetings and brief check ins happen in that walk through their chosen lunch spot.  Next I walk on to where my 6th and 7th graders eat lunch.  Typically I find lots of goofiness there and plenty of silly questions (Can we get hair straighteners in the bathroom, JT?) and I notice the same things that caught my eye with the eighth graders.  The rest of lunch I continue to move, greeting every child by name (how better to demonstrate that I care about who they are?), poking my head into the girls' bathroom (everything okay in here?) and generally assuring myself that all kids on campus are safe.   Sometimes a student will confide in me about a problem they are having or a friend about whom they are worried.  They know I will follow up.  They know I care about their world.  They know they can trust me with their secrets.  They trust me to help them navigate middle school and I take their trust seriously.  I believe I almost always deliver.  

    Middle school can be a tough time for kids and for parents.  Everything is changing for everyone and it’s tough to make friends with all those changes.  Middle school students sometimes seem as open, joyful, and young as little kid 3rd graders.  At other times, their fresh perspective and relatively new eyes reveal wisdom that jaded adults have long left behind.  Just as in the adult world, you will find an occasional bully but steps are taken to both prevent or stop such behaviors when they are reported.  Middle schoolers need community as much as they did as kindergartners.  They need friends to talk to, peers to reflect back their world to them, a culture to call their own, and trusted adults to watch out for them.  That sounds a whole lot like what all people need, regardless of their age. 

L: Lost

        As I have referenced before , somehow it has fallen into my purview as the guidance counselor to be responsible for lost and found items.  The lost and found bin is located in the front office and every Thursday I put all the items out on the walkway in front of the office so they will catch the eye of every parent and student who walks by.  I don't know how this happened (however, the last line of my job description is "Other duties as assigned" so I guess this counts)  but I just accept that package.  Like so many other things in my work world, I can make that part of the job fit.

      Yes, it fits.  I have been lost in life before and I do believe I am lost again.  The last time I wrote about this, I was just discovering my current lack of direction.  I've been siting with it now for several months and finding myself curious and a little impatient with this place where I stand.  I accuse myself of being a coward because, in my foggy and cloudy world, I stay on the bluff.  I look over the ocean of opportunities but I won't move from the bluff.  It's cold out here on the edge.  I can't see very far .  But I do have a blanket around me, and I can see some sunshine over to the northwest.  I look with hope at that piece of blue sky which appears to be blowing the fog south.  I wonder how long it will be until my edge of the cliff is in the sunlight.  I wonder if the clear view will help me find my way?  The thing is, when you stand on a cliff by the ocean you must always be prepared for cold wind, for fog, for dampness.  You really can't be concerned about much more than holding on to your footing.  It's a long and rocky drop to the beach below.  It's good to breathe in the ocean air.  It's good to let the mist from the waves brush your face.  It's good to stand and just be.  Who knows?  Maybe you will see something on the horizon that will point you in some direction.  Try it.

K: Ted Kooser

    Ted Kooser is an awesome contemporary American poet. He was born in Ames, Iowa on April 25, 1939 and his writing, to me, very much reflects the clarity and purpose of his generation.  I find it odd that he was an insurance executive for years apparently while refining and developing his writing skills but that only gives hope to all of us who write at night while we work our day jobs.  He earned an undergraduate degree from Iowa State University and then an MA from University of Nebraska. He served as the United States Poet Laureate from 2004 - 2006 and has been published in a wide assortment of publications.  He has also written twelve full length collections of poetry.  

  His book The Poetry Home Repair Manual is an engaging and useful tool for the wannabe poet (like me).

 Here are two samples of Ted Kooser's work.  I can't say what it is that appeals to me so much about these two poems.  I suppose the shared theme of aging draws me to them as that is on my mind.  I wonder what your impressions are?

A Room in the Past

It’s a kitchen. Its curtains fill

with a morning light so bright

you can’t see beyond its windows

into the afternoon. A kitchen

falling through time with its things

in their places, the dishes jingling

up in the cupboard, the bucket

of drinking water rippled as if

a truck had just gone past, but that truck

was thirty years. No one’s at home

in this room. Its counter is wiped,

and the dishrag hangs from its nail,

a dry leaf. In housedresses of mist,

blue aprons of rain, my grandmother

moved through this life like a ghost,

and when she had finished her years,

she put them all back in their places

and wiped out the sink, turning her back

on the rest of us, forever.

Tattoo

What once was meant to be a statement—
a dripping dagger held in the fist
of a shuddering heart—is now just a bruise
on a bony old shoulder, the spot
where vanity once punched him hard
and the ache lingered on. He looks like
someone you had to reckon with,
strong as a stallion, fast and ornery,
but on this chilly morning, as he walks
between the tables at a yard sale
with the sleeves of his tight black T-shirt
rolled up to show us who he was,
he is only another old man, picking up
broken tools and putting them back,
his heart gone soft and blue with stories. 

J: July

    Oh,  Beautiful April,  I must confess.  Yes, you are tender, fragrant and delicate.  You are fresh and new, you sweep winter darkness away and you welcome the sun with beautful bouquets.  But, I must tell you, you have a sister - a gorgeous sister - who can command the world when she is in town.  July is BOLD.  She is HOT.  She invites leisure and laughter.


   July is brassy and knows few boundaries.  Her voice is loud and filled with laughter and adventure.  She is wide open, very spontaneous, very warm and the most relaxed sister of all.  She loves her flip flops and her polished toes, her sunscreen fragrance and kisses in the evening breeze on the back porch. July is up for a bike ride at any time of the day or evening.  She embraces the outdoors and naps in the hammock.  July has favorite colors:  the brightest ones in the box.  She flies kites at the beach and she lives on watermelon, fresh tomatoes, crisp corn, and crunchy green beans.


     July and I?  We were meant for each other.   I do love it when she is in town!

I: Inside

     I think I want to be someone who has a neat and orderly head.  I want to have shelves with ideas stacked neatly, perhaps color coded.  There might be a file cabinet for logical reasoning.  There might also be a memory closet with memories arranged and retrieved in chronological order.  The huge fact bank that I lug around could be condensed in some organized fashion (perhaps like the old time library card catalog - images of which you will find in the memory closet). The Virgo who lives in me says, "Get busy, young lady!"

    But really? It's a huge mess - colorful, disorganized, with sounds mingling with images and memories talking too much and too fast. There is a whole lot of "Pay attention to me" going on.  The truth is, this messy place, this cacophony,  this abstract existence, this blend of real and imaginary?  That is my head. And I must acknowledge that all of these forces are actually friendly to me.  I like them just the way they are.  They loudly remind me that I am alive.  Yes, my life is loud and mess.  My head proves it.  Just the way it is.