14 May, 2012 | 2 Comments

People want to see you win.

Time and time again, I get confused by reality television’s insistence on pitting human against human. That aggressive competition is the opposite of my experience. This sounds naive. I know. Reality tv has been around for years, and I consume the drama willingly and gleefully.

But what makes a reality tv show great and my actual human experience is so far apart, I think it’s time for some course correction.

I should have been more surprised to see the Girl Scouts release a study about the harmful effects this is having on young girls’ development. But there it is, girls, my girls, our girls are growing up believing that they can’t trust people, that they have to compete to win a guy’s attention and that their value lies in their appearance. Ugh.

Collaboration, a comparison
Reality Television	My Experience
When I say what I want, the group conspires on how to get it so that I can’t.	When I say what I want, everyone in the group starts scheming on how to help me get it.
“I’m not here to make friends.”	“I’m only here to make friends.”
My looks are the only thing I have to offer.	My looks simply support my messaging.
It’s a zero sum game.	We all win when we all learn.
I keep secrets to keep my competitive advantage.	I teach what I’ve learned.
My achievement depends upon your elimination.	We can all achieve together.

Every Hale Bopp or so, there’s been that guy in the office who took credit for my ideas – or who openly undermined my efforts, but most of the time, it’s all collaboration. In all the years I’ve held jobs, I’ve worked with 2 of those people. That’s a lot of jobs, with hundreds of people. Perhaps it’s my industry, but there have only been two, two sociopaths for whom those reality tv lessons rang true.

Maybe it’s because I worked hard to join networking groups of people in different circles — tech, wine country, lifestyle — where the whole reason for our collaboration is to help each other out.

These loose associations have turned into a pillowy soft landing place for when things aren’t going so well. These groups serve as a trampoline to launch me back on my feet. The core value of all of these groups is to belong to a community of people helping each other succeed.

Of the three groups I’m thinking of, each meets once a year, each is roughly about 5 – 10 people strong and each is a continuing professional support system for this new internet.

If not, here are a few tips for starting a group like this of your own.

Figure out what you want
You can’t get what you want if you don’t spend the time figuring it out. It seems silly, but you might not actually want that tv show, that book deal, that singing contract.

Aim high
Ask people you admire. Ask people who have something to offer the world. Surround yourself with people you want to be more like.

Meet in person
One of my groups meets every other month, one meets twice a year and one meets once a year. This in-person meeting is our last resort for trust.

Cap the membership
Keeping it small keeps it focused.

Use great technology
One of my groups lives mostly in an email thread, another in a private Facebook group. Google hangouts can work, Skype too. We have some amazing tools to collaborate big. Let’s do that.

Do you have a group like that?
A sort of professional development group?
A group that surrounds you that cheers you on to aim higher and celebrates hard wins?

How do you keep it going?

7 May, 2012 | 43 Comments

Solutions for a painful internet, my Mom 2.0 presentation

I believe there are no more than 3 ways (ahem) to feel better from the internet.
And no less than 74,000 ways to feel worse.

helenjane's internet ailments

So step right up, get on in here,
I have tonics, salves, liniments, ointments and remedies for your ails.
Internet related ailment, that is.
I have relief.

helenjane's internet ailments

See, over last five years
The scale and velocity of story sharing
image sharing and
sharing sharing has increased in a way in our brains and emotions have not.

We humans need to step back and see how fundamentally different human interaction has become since the internet’s adaptation by billions. This onslaught of pictures and stories and potential and the fact made visual that we are all connected to every body

It’s affecting our brains.
We have no choice but to evolve.

In fact, our brains are evolving…

helenjane's internet ailments

Right now.

We’re in transition.
Most transitions are marked with pain.
When we don’t recognize that transition for evolution, we feel terrible.

Birth,

helenjane's internet ailments

death.

helenjane's internet ailments

We’re transitioning right now.
Publicly.
And a little painfully.

We’re
Jealous
Judgey
Unlucky
Alienated
Ignored
Dissatisfied

helenjane's internet ailments

We’re evolving.
And it hurts.

Thankfully, I bring you
No less than
three tools for feeling better.
Today.

Let’s soothe those internet pains.

helenjane's internet ailments

We’re going to
Protect your neck
Show you a Jealousy Map
Then use our imaginations to think of tiny scientists.

First up?
Protect your neck

helenjane's internet ailments

When I sit with the internet during my normal surfing,
I pay close attention to my body’s reaction to the words I consume.

I feel the burning in my throat when someone I consider my peer gets that accolade.
I feel my eyes fill with tears as I take in your pain.
I feel my stomach tense as I share your outrage.
Oh, that outrage.

Becoming aware of these physical reactions is the first step to controlling them.

helenjane's internet ailments

The second step? Control my feed of information.

What’s coming in that might be poisoning me?
What toxic hate,
Gossip, and
Constant complaining am I consuming?

You have my permission to unfollow that which makes you feel bad.
I don’t care how good friends you are.
If their stream takes away your precious energy, you have a right to protect yourself.

helenjane's internet ailments

Another way to protect your neck is by remembering these three words, “It’s not about me.”

Your mom broke her hip and had a stroke and your Dad died, but you weren’t close, because you had a bad childhood and I totally understand – and then your kid died and I’m so sorry and every time I read that post I imagine it happening to me because it’s always about me.

Your pain is now about me.
Your pain becomes me.

But on reflection, I realize that I consume this media in isolation so SEEMS LIKE IT’S about me.
It’s not.

Unless I write it, it’s not about me.
We see it when authors announce book tours, pregnancies, philanthropic efforts

Why wasn’t *I* picked for this?
Instead of, “Good Job.”

helenjane's internet ailments

Why aren’t you coming to Poughkeepsie?
Instead of, “Congrats on the book tour.”

helenjane's internet ailments

Well at least you HAVE a baby…
Instead of, “That must be hard for you.”

helenjane's internet ailments

On the internet it seems like it’s about me, but it’s not.

Pay attention to your body,
control your feed and remember,
it’s not about you.

I’m feeling better already!
Next up?

The Jealousy Map

helenjane's internet ailments

An epidemic of less than on the internet.
It’s impossible to avoid comparison.
When I’m jealous, instead of acting out, I don’t take your opinion seriously because, well, obviously you have it so much easier.

You’re already well-off.
You have a stay at home wife.
You got there first.

You have it so much better than me.

Thanks to Julia Cameron’s The Artist’s Way, I now use jealousy as a tool.
I make a Jealousy Map.

Make a grid with three columns. Labeled, WHO, WHY and Now WHAT?,

helenjane's internet ailments

Start filling it the WHO with the folks you’re jealous of.
Fill in WHY with the reason you’re jealous and fill in the
NOW WHAT? part with the first thing that jumps to your brain.

helenjane's internet ailments

Some of the “So NOW what’s” come off as so simple they may sound silly.
Don’t let that fool you.
It’s how this tool works.

Oh that familiar jealous sinking in my stomach when I think it means I can’t ever measure up, I take it as a call to action.
Not as the end

Protect your neck
Jealousy Map
We’re on to Tiny Scientists

helenjane's internet ailments

Our internet is barely ten years old.Its current mobile-visual-branded version – less than five years old.

When I get all judgey and mean about online authors, I stop it cold by thinking of other authors as five year old scientists.

helenjane's internet ailments

Would you be as judgemental and mean to a five year old in a tiny lab coat.
(Like one with a little twitter handle embroidered on it…)
As you are (inside your head, of course) to some other bloggers?

helenjane's internet ailments

I didn’t think so.

helenjane's internet ailments

Think of all of us as little experimenters.

helenjane's internet ailments

Sharing news through a personal lens, this experiment is barely five years old yet we consistently judge people as if they should know better.

helenjane's internet ailments

We’re all just bumbling along in our labs, trying things out publicly.
Let’s use our imagination to appreciate the internet for the experiment it IS.

Since you’re amazing, I’ve decided to share one more bonus tip with you.

We ladies have a unique emotional skill.
We can of add guilt to an already bad feeling.
We slather it on in a thick layer.

helenjane's internet ailments

It’s like a sad feeling club sandwich with bacon of regret, turkey of self-loathing, lettuce of sadness.
It’s bad enough.
And THEN we try to add this, some peanut butter of guilt.

Don’t put the peanut butter on a club sandwich.

helenjane's internet ailments

Don’t put guilt on an already bad feeling.

Feeling bad for feeling bad is something our gender that we can stop.
Starting… now!

helenjane's internet ailments

To sum up:
Our brains are evolving.
Protect your neck and remember: it’s not about me.
Use Jealousy as a tool with a Jealousy Map.
Imagine us as tiny scientists.
Don’t put the peanut butter guilt on a sad club sandwich.

You can find for all your internet ailment relief at helenjane.com and @helenjane.

helenjane's internet ailments

30 April, 2012 | 11 Comments

Knowledge and the ladies

The more I read the internet,
the more I see that knowledge isn’t knowledge,
like it used to be.

Facts aren’t held in an encyclopedia set on the bookshelf.
Instead, knowledge about a topic is developed through debate.

Someone posts an idea, someone disagrees with it.
More evidence is presented, opinions are lobbied back and forth and everyone comes out the better for it.

Except the ladies.

You may not have been raised in a culture that taught that if you are to be a good girl, a successful girl, you must first and foremost be an agreeable girl.

You may not have had the kind of childhood I did, where I learned to make everyone happy lest I set him off again.

So now I seek consensus in all things.
Without consensus, I feel that terrifying flutter that things are going to get out of hand and I’m headed to get hit and I won’t be liked anymore.

But as I see more and more knowledge centered around debate.
And more women raised to avoid debate.
I fear that we’re getting left behind when it comes to the current version of knowledge.

Disagreement isn’t ladylike.
Arguing is likely to get you shunned.
Dissension isn’t desirable in females.

Hey hey hey!
So, how do I raise my daughters to feel okay arguing?
Get better at arguing myself.

How do I get my friends to hold differing opinions?
Be more of a Cowboy than an Octopus.

How do I jump into a comment thread and feel comfortable sharing my opinion, my facts, while knowing that UR A FAT WHORE will probably be my punishment?
Just typing that made me feel foolish. I’m far more grown up than this. Why are these pixels scaring me?

It’s been easier to avoid commenting.
But if I’m getting left out on where knowledge lives, I’d better steel (gird?) my loins and jump in.

If I see someone shaming another woman for being disagreeable, I’ll point it out.
I’ll talk about it.
“She’s actually making us all smarter.”

If I want to raise little fighters,
little smartypants,
smarter ladypants,
I better be better at defending my opinion.

A challenge to me,
it seems silly really,
but I’m challenging myself to comment something that might not be popular with other commenters on a particular thread.

I’m not going out of my way to pick fights, but I want to overcome that natural inertia to not join the conversation, even if I can’t go with the most popular opinion.

I’m sure YOU have no problem with this stuff.
You enjoy hearty debate,
nigh invigorated with disagreement.

But it’s hard for me.
Which means it’s probably important.

I’d love to hear your thoughts.

13 April, 2012 | 21 Comments

Getting over my fear of being judged

You're judging this photo, aren't you? My house, maybe? It's okay.

We’re put here to make something.
Babies. Meals. Buildings. Books. Roads. Stories.
Paintings.

And sometimes web logs.

Creativity is as part of being human as breathing and sweating and humping and enjoying fried things and feeling awkward.

I know this but still suffer from a big block.
I FEAR people JUDGING me.
This fear keeps me from making my best stuff.
Or any stuff.

And I know what causes it.
Me.

There’s only one way my fear of being judged is going to go away.
And it’s by taking off my own Giant Judgey Wig.
I’m the WORST judgey judge.
In my own brain.
And it’s strangling my output.

Fear Of Being Judged.
Or FOBJ — heh — Is a real block for me.

Part of it is that for my job, I evaluate blogs.

But evaluation is different than donning my Giant Judgey Wig.
Evaluation is looking at metrics, at reach, at tone and aesthetics.
Evaluation is looking at facts.

Judgey wig is making a mean-spirited, emotional snap judgement in 2 seconds.

I’m judging you, judging me, judgey judgey judge judge judge.

That outfit sucks.
Why are you using that lame phrase?
Could you complain any more?

Judging makes sense, evolutionarily.
We can’t possibly take everything in that’s presented to us.

We used to need quick yesses or nos when deciding which group of people or environments were best for us.

But online, when we’re nigh assaulted with images of art, of homes, of creative expression, being judgey isn’t necessary.

And if it’s in my head, it probably doesn’t hurt you, but it hurts me more.
It hurts me by creating a culture (in myself!) where I’m afraid to create.

I wouldn’t accuse you of taking this kind of mean-spirited commentary public.
Because I wouldn’t either.

But inside my head, I’m closing myself off from potential friendships, resources, opportunities for learning.

All because I don’t think I like your [insert dumb surface-based reason here].

So how do I stop judging?

The last few weeks I’ve been testing out some tricks for judging less. These three have been the most successful.

(But boy, howdy, this is an uphill battle.)

Compliment

Under my wig I think of at least ONE nice thing about the thing I’m being stupidly critical about. It has a cascading effect, inspiring me to look for more and more nice things until, SURPRISE! I’m rather fond of the blogger behind the blog.

Think of people as collections of stories.

If I think of you as a bunch of collected stories rather than a blanket singular judgement, I’m eager to learn more. I want to hear about all the crazy stuff that goes on in your life. I want to be your friend.

It’s all experimental

This whole internet thing, its current incarnation is barely 5 years old. Would you harshly judge a five year old? (Wait, don’t answer that.)

Think of blogs as partners in this grand experiment of self-expression.
Hey! They’re learning!
And I’m learning too!
We’re all learning!

And for the first time in history, we’re all learning publicly.
(This is terrifying.)

By reframing your judgement as just participating in this experiment, all these posts and photos and stories become less daunting and more exciting. Truthily.

I want to raise my girls free from FOBJ.
The way I do that is by judging less.

Inviting more.
Trying more.
Making more messes.

How do you stop yourself from judging?
Do you suffer from FOBJ?
Or is internet judgery is part of the package?

2 April, 2012 | 7 Comments

Failed murder breeds success

I yelled at them this weekend all right.
I yelled and pointed and sighed with exasperation.
I said unkind things.

“YOU ALWAYS DO THIS.”
“I’M SO SICK OF…”
“DOESN’T ANYONE SEE HOW HARD I WORK? WHY CAN’T YOU APPRECIATE THAT?”

(Martyr alert.)

Because I was lazy getting them to bed,
the girls stayed up too late on Friday.
So did I.

As you know, grown ups and toddlers really aren’t much different when it comes to sleep deprivation.

So I spent the rest of the weekend keeping these wild, sleep-deprived kids apart with the broom.
As they tried to kill each other.
Just kidding about the broom.
Mostly.

Hot eyed,
screamy
little girl murder.

That’s right, murder.
Your children don’t try to kill each other?
Mine do.

I tried to kill my sister.
Pretty regularly.
So maybe it’s our family legacy.

A family legacy of failed murder.
That’s success, right?

Then I remember we’re just animals.
Sweaty,
eating,
mating,
pooping animals who need enough sleep.

I really need enough sleep.
(You too.)

Murder doesn’t really play into those animal drives.
Just like the platypus, just like the virus.
(Viruses have one up on us, they don’t need as much sleep.)

My instincts up there,
pulling the levers behind my eyes,
help me breed these people into adults and
keep them from killing each other on purpose.

They get fuzzy when I’m too tired.

What’s my point?
If I haven’t murdered anyone in my family on purpose today,
if I don’t let my kids do it either.
At least for right now, I’m doing okay.

I’ll raise the bar after I’ve taken a nap.