Becoming Write-Handed

The Rhythm of Writing

This week I participated in a writing exercise for my church. We are writing a letter to the people who will be leading our congregation 100 years from now, placing the letter in a time capsule along with other important artifacts.

We decided the letter needs a cadence, and while we're not sure of the wording, we've started working with the idea of Call/Response.  As in, "The American political landscape changed forever in 2004, with bitter division taking over for civil political and religious discourse, and our church leaders felt called to change that. Together with Dr. M. Scott Peck, First Community Church created the pioneering Faith & American Politics program."

Now, I don't claim that I've got the wording just right, or that this is the "right" structure for our letter. But it has gotten me thinking about the rhythm of writing and how we set a pace for our readers when we choose our words.

All of that has gotten me thinking about Barack Obama's speechwriters. Did you hear that the Inaugural Addresswas written in a D.C.-area Starbucks? Can you imagine sitting there, amid the baristas and the hissing cappuccino machines and a long line of people on their Blackberries, and coming up with the wonderful flow and pulse of that speech?

I am not sure if writing for readers is different than writing for listeners. It really shouldn't be, as I've been taught over and over to "write for the ear" and "write like you talk." It should flow, it should sound natural, it should seem real.

And the only way I know to do that, my friends, is to practice. So thanks for reading my practice sessions here at Becoming Write-Handed and wish me luck with that letter!

Thursday

I interviewed a Catholic priest today without any underwear on.  I'm sure he had underwear on, but due to a mixup with moving hotel rooms yesterday, I don't have any underwear today. What a bizarre experience.

Now this was no ordinary Catholic priest. He rides a Harley and sings in a band - you should see his MySpace page! Within 5 minutes, he mentioned a Bible verse to me.

From everyone who has been given much, much will be expected. - Luke 12:48

My Catholic friend was referring to the verse in response to a question I posed about corporate responsibility. But it took my breath away to hear that verse, which I used to think about and quote all the time. I confess (see, I'm getting the hang of being Catholic already) that I haven't thought of that verse in quite a while.

I have been locked in a very sad and ugly state of "Poor Me" mind games. Poor Me, I hate my job. Poor Me, I work for a company that has changed its stripes. Poor Me, we have had a tough time closing on our first house. Poor Me, I am traveling the country when I'd rather be home. Poor Me, I don't know what to do with myself.

Ugh. Poor Steve, Poor Everyone Else Who Has Had To Listen To That Crap.

I get in these swirls, these hopeless spiritual quagmires where I think there's no right answer. I can't possibly enjoy the blessings and treasures and treats I've been given, because in China and Myanmar, people are starving and drowning and grieving. On the other hand, I can't quit my job and live in a box because what good will that do anybody? On and on this vortex goes, interrupting my sleep and overshadowing my conversations and paralyzing my decision-making abilities.

And then, mercifully, God always "unsticks" me. He sends a Harley-riding, Johnny-Cash-singing priest to knock me off dead center and remind me that not only is it okay to have been so blessed, but I must, must, must treasure those incredible blessings. I must love my family harder. I must laugh more with my amazing friends. I must add value at my job. I must watch and re-watch every wedding picture. I must squeeze every last drop of enjoyment and pleasure and sacred joy about of my life, because it is a gift. And it would be a crime to wish these blessings away because not everyone is as lucky as I to have such a great family or work in such a cool place, or because I get frustrated or feel guilty.

And then, I must put on my big girl panties (if I ever find them) and help the world. Get a volunteer gig. Donate more time, money and energy to those people who don't (can't) have the things I do. And along the way, in every encounter and in every elevator and in every conversation, I must show people that I see the divinity in them. I must pray, as my fearless Grandpa used to pray each morning, "God, help me be a blessing today to someone." I must remember that I am not Poor Me at all; I am Lucky Me, Rich Me, Blessed Me. And because of that, I am called to quit complaining, get off my sorry butt, and do more good stuff.

I got an email "forward" today. Another key part of God "unsticking" me. Check this out:

Life is a series of problems. Either you are in one now, you're just coming out of one, or you're just getting ready to go into another one. The reason for this is that God is more interested in your character than your comfort. God is more interested in making your life holy than making your life happy. - Rick Warren

I feel like the universe, the Divine Spirit is talking directly to me today. The stars are aligning and I am aware, I am noticing, I am listening to the voice with all my might.

I wonder if there's even some sort of message behind forgetting my underwear. ;-)  
   
 

Wednesday

By my Columbus clock, it is 1:17 in the morning. I am in a corner hotel room on the 6th floor of a fancy, overpriced Chicago hotel. I traded a room on the 20th floor for this, a few precious minutes of wireless internet connection in which to blog, connect via email, and bask in quiet personal solitude in the magic that is our wedding pictures.

Last night, I spent 20 minutes on hold with tech support, trying to get online in my 20th-floor room. At one point, I was on the floor, with a flashlight, looking at what I thought was the modem box conveniently hung behind the desk, the phone to my ear, with horrible static on the line, just absolutely sweating the fact that I couldn't see my precious pictures.

Now, I realize that this is not an actual crisis. I realize that, with the death toll climbing around the world from disasters beyond my imagination, internet access is a decidedly low priority. And yet, I couldn't help but feel that it is the wedding pictures, the birthday cakes, the emails and blog comments from loved ones, the funeral songs, the well-intentioned should-haves that truly make up family life. These are the important things because these are the artifacts we have of one another.

I spent 13 hours today interviewing consumers who meet certain criteria, on behalf of a certain global brand, and I realized something incredible. I realized that we are all, each one of us, part of God. And God is part of us. And listening to people, well, that's perhaps my one greatest skill.

My second-to-last interview of the evening was with a young woman who speaks Gaelic, of all things. And one of my favorite novel series, Outlander, uses Gaelic terms. So after our interview on the corporation that is my client, I picked her brain on Gaelic pronunciation. What a treat! I also heard from her some great sources for non-profit jobs in the country, so I will look that up ASAP. My last interview, the 12th in a long line of interviews, was with a gentleman who interviews subjects on behalf of a columnist at the Chicago Tribune.

I know my research is not personal. It can't be, with cameras rolling and clients behind the glass. And yet, a stone's throw away from Oprah's studio, I can't help but think that there's something to this whole interviewing business. I love hearing people talk. I love thinking about their lives, about my own life. I always, inevitably, turn the research into a personal discovery or awareness or lesson of some kind. I can't help it. Tonight, I felt humbled by my Gaelic-speaking, non-profit working respondent. And then humbled again by the gentleman (there is absolutely no other word for him; his speech was so low and unassuming that I doubt the camera even picked up his voice) who interviews prison guards and police officers and Asian shop owners so his columnist can publish a great piece. I felt humbled by the people who work harder than I every day, for less money. I felt humbled by their totally unsuspecting views of corporations for whom I have the privelege of working and yet fight with the ethics of representing.

And so, the wedding pictures. It is now 1:32 a.m. in Ohio. And I am going to shamelessly spend the next hour watching a vain, gluttonous slideshow of those lavish images - those tender, precious reminders of what love looked and sounded and smelled like on one October evening last year.

Another Book Idea?

This blog is about me, not about my work. (Because I'm so darn interesting all on my own!) I don't use this space to write about my job, other than the occasional allusion to office frustrations. There are thousands of blogs about the internet, about brands on the internet, about communities and consumers on the internet, and about the insights that drive marketers to use the internet to connect with their consumers. Writing about those things in a professional capacity has never interested me. I mean, I do that stuff all day. I have those conversations all day every day with very smart people who could probably write a lot more about it than I can. If you're intrigued, check out my friend Leigh's Advergirl or our president Kelly Mooney's blog.

However, in the past several weeks, I have had a few twinges of wanting to write about something that I have seen or understood through my job. I have seen some web sites that I honestly would think of featuring, or explaining, or questioning. But this blog is not about my work, and so I have not written those things.

I have tried keep my career and my personal life compartmentalized - separated from each other by mental walls and sheer force of will. I want to be able to "turn it off" when I come home, or when I am at a party, or when I am at church. But the internet, so aptly referred to as a web, has a way of touching each element of my life - arguably of everyone's life.

And so it happened that I found myself in church this morning, referencing examples from my job. I am participating in a special Lenten class at First Community Church that is based on the provocative series called "Living the Questions."

Today we were discussing Creative Transformation, which led to a conversation about community. What are the characteristics of a community? Why do humans feel the need to socially interact? What happens when a spiritual community is more obsessed with tradition than transformation?

I was stunned to realize that my experience as a digital ethnogpraher has some relevance here. I study digital communities at work. We even wrote a book, The Open Brand, about the crucial role of community in today's digital world. My own master's thesis five years ago was about the online community surrounding Oprah's Book Club. And Oprah's at it again with an online class about spirituality based on Eckhart Tolle's book A New Earth.

But what is the role of digital community in spirituality? How do the connections we forge online through Facebook or Second Life or Oprah Winfrey affect us offline, in real life? How do we find meaning in the digital deluge of information and potential online connections we can now find through this mysterious web?

Our group talked about how hard it is to develop true spiritual transformation in the age of today's consumer-based culture. I got all fired up and pissed off and decided I must quit my job that is so tied to the consumer culture.

Then I took a deep breath, and realized I don't need to quit my job. But I do need to decide if this intriguing line of thinking is something I could pursue from a research perspective. I know just enough about the web to know that it can make anything happen. If I were still a graduate student and research assistant, I'd be writing a grant application right now for some funding to study these questions. But I probably just need to put a link on my Facebook page that I'm interested in talking this stuff over with people.

If my church could be so bold as to pioneer a program called "Faith & American Politics," why can't I launch a study of Faith & Community in the Digital Age?