Posts

The Conundrum of Stitches versus Fabric

I've long since given up on formal New Year's resolutions, but each year I do try to affirm a few "ways of living" to keep me sane and forward thinking. This year I have tried to focus on knowing when to live in the moment, while at the same time, recognizing when it’s important to take in the big picture.  I recently read my favorite author's newest book - Anne Lamott's, “Stitches.” Not only does she write beautifully, but she also has an ability to look at life with humor, humility and perspective that resonate with me. Anne integrates the analogy of stitches throughout the book by suggesting you can miss the magic of the stitches in daily life if you are always looking at "the whole shebang," as she puts it. You can miss the beauty of the colors, shapes and imperfections of the stitches if you are always just looking at the design of the whole fabric. But I like taking that comparison a little further to try and balance focusing on the stitc

Guest blog...Because the Internet

(I'm pleased to introduce my first guest blogger, John Peters, my 15-year-old nephew who is a freshman at Porter-Gaud School in Charleston. This was a paper for his English class) George Orwell wrote about our destruction by things we hated like an oppressive government, but Aldous Huxley wrote about our destruction by things we loved like TV. If Huxley had written  his famous book  A Brave New World  sometime in the last decade or so, he definitely would have  included t he I nternet  in his criticisms. The Internet  has , for some,   created a  lifeline to other people that have the same interests or hobbies  but  would be otherwise unreachable . This is a very good thing most of the time, but it can sometimes  cause disconnect from the present.  The Internet has completely reformed the way its users and everyone around them go about their lives every day.   The Internet is used every day and affects everyone. It is a vast and infinite tool that can figure out almost anythi

A Dog Named Sam

I caught a flash of a rust colored fan of a dog tail darting between two herbie curbies as I drove home from my parents' house. My dog karma instinct immediately kicked in...it was a golden retriever who looked like a smaller version of our long-gone but much-loved Beaufort. I had to stop. I pulled out the dog biscuits I keep in my car console. As I opened the car door thinking I'd have to coax the dog to me, he bounded over. He had a collar and tags - good news. I found the tag. His name was Sam...the name of my childhood dog. He was friendly, even loving. He nuzzled my knee as I scratched his ears while I dialed the number on the tag. No answer. I left a message and debated next steps still just enjoying scratching Sam's ears while he nuzzled my knee like my golden retriever Dixie does every day. There’s just something peaceful about that nuzzling. Then, I'm knocked back to the moment. The phone rings and the owner identified Sam. The owner was jus

How Smoking a Pork Butt is Like Writing

My husband got a Green Egg grill for Christmas and smoked his first pork butt to make BBQ on it that weekend. As he worked on this hours-long process, it occurred to me how similar it is to my writing process. T o take a page from Stephen Covey, we both begin with the end in mind. My husband knows how he wants the BBQ to look, feel and taste. I know the story I want to tell. Getting to our individual ends involves some of the same lessons, compromises and processes. First  both writing and smoking a pork butt involve following some basic rules. When smoking a butt, the temperature has to be at a certain level to ensure food safety. There is no way to speed up the process. A lot of personal preference is involved relative to taste or doneness. Writing isn't all that different. You have to accept certain basic rules of grammar and usage to ensure the reader understands what you are trying to say. Writing will flow at its own pace…inspiration can't be rushed. Everyone writ

The Random Connections of a Neighborhood

We all know the saying "you can pick your friends but you can't pick your family." In some ways, the same could be said about neighbors. Generally, you can't decide who moves in beside you, across from you or down the block from you. Great neighbors are one of the random connect points in life that I love. Neighbors often know more about your habits than anyone else. They know if you eat and drink healthy by what's in your recycle bin. They know if you clean up after your dog, how late you go to bed , if you keep a neat yard, what time you leave in the morning...the list can go on and on. So when neighbors can also be friends, watchdogs, key-keepers, nurses and babysitters, it's truly a lucky place to be. Living in Washington, DC, during my early career years, I made my first "grown up" friends, Eleanor and Helen, because they lived across the street from me and my two roommates. Like us, Eleanor and Helen were recent college grads from the

Advice from a big-haired career rookie

(I wrote this as an email on May 23 to close to 100 people who have influenced me during  my working years. I was so excited it got picked up by several professional publications.) May 23 marked the 30th anniversary of my first day in the work world. That day in 1983, I started my job as a receptionist on Capitol Hill after a local congressman hired me, sight unseen, over the phone three weeks earlier. I had a head full of big permed hair, big expectations, and little idea of what I was supposed to do as an employed and responsible adult. Looking back, I didn't have specific career goals in mind at that point, but I did know what I was good at and the type of work I wanted to pursue. Here, 30 years later, I've been fortunate to have a rewarding career that gave me 10 great years on Capitol Hill and took me back to my home state of South Carolina for jobs that combined my love of writing, communications, and politics with my curiosity about people and places.

The simple act of thank you

I recently sent out a blast email at work that had several bad links in it (operator error on my part). The email had gone to 146 people, and our tracking program told me 69 people had clicked on the link. All 69 would have found that the link went nowhere. Only one of those 69 people let me know about the bad link. Fortunately, because of this one person, I could quickly fix my snafu, resend the email and all was well. Later in the day I shot a quick email of thanks to the woman who had alerted me to the problem. The next day I got a very nice note back from her saying she needed that “atta boy” at the end of a rough day. It’s that circular world of the simple act of thank you. We all need it whether we know it or not. It never gets old.