The Confidence of Hindsight

Yesterday I wrote about the transition phase between the new and the established, childhood and adulthood, so to speak, about change and moving on.

There is an important middle phase, which we call adolescence when we’re talking about our physical growth. This is less frequently explored than the new and established phases, a less comfortable, transitory world.

In adolescence, we are often feeling our way, and learning which inner voice to listen to – the voice of our emerging self and wisdom, or the one that’s an echo of old habits or other people’s viewpoints.

From the standpoint of 2010, and the story told in My Father’s House, I can say I’m glad I followed my own compass when it came to my relationship with my father in his last years.

My Father’s House – Part 2

Continued from Part 1

When we were young, my sisters and I sometimes sat with him when he burned the insulation off short ends of scrap wire, cleaning it up to sell the copper. The fire burned in bright, strange colors, blue, green and pink. Time, then, moved slower and the parent-child boundary was not so unyielding. Around the fire we could ask him almost anything about the nature of life and the universe. He gave answers illustrated with his experiences and deep thought. That was a long time ago, long before I became aware of the world as a metaphor, before I knew what it was like to have a conversation with anyone called a spiritual teacher, or could recognize wisdom when I heard it.

The nature of the universe is change, my teachers said, and I believed that was true. Now I feel its reality and know that belief is a poor cousin to experience. This new experience, watching a parent age, is a little more complicated than navigating the new menu at the local Coney where I eat breakfast on weekends.

When you get into “middle age,” you begin to feel your place in the universe, like literally standing on a giant wheel, slow and massive, turning almost imperceptibly. Glance over one shoulder, see youth snapping up behind. Ahead stand older people where the wheel is moving up and up, fading into a misty unknown.

No, I wouldn’t want to go back to an earlier time, even if I could. Still, sometimes, I wish the Coney would bring back the old breakfast specials, and autumn nights would bring back fires in a pile of scrap wire.

By the time I get to Coldwater, only 20 miles more to go. Farmland stretches for miles around here. Somebody’s just made their last hay of the summer and baled it in rectangular bales. I look twice. Those bales are uncommon now, old fashioned. Nowadays you see the round ones. They’re less work and they can be stored outdoors.

Down the road the irony zinged me. I notice I’ve gotten used to seeing the round ones.

Soon I’m coming around the corner and I’m on my father’s road. The top of his house is easy to see, a landmark above the full grown corn, but black stains streak the siding in places. He liked building, not maintaining.

I get there first, thankful I’m the early one. I have his time to myself before the others come. I knock on the door, remind myself to breathe, then walk in, to meet the old and new in contrast, and be at peace.

Sometimes we do learn to appreciate the good things before they’re gone.

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Looking back at those days, from the standpoint of years gone by, I’m glad I made the effort, and listened to my own voice when it came to my father’s last years.

You can enjoy the time you have, and know that when things change, you did right by yourself and others.

In the end it does come down to what you believe. If you think there’s something more, are you trying hold on to things that have run their course and want to move on, or trying to force them to stay put?

Can a child in any sense (human, business or organization) stay that way forever, or must it my nature move on to another level, even if the path is rocky and uncertain?

The answer seems inevitable.

Hindsight is 20-20

We often hear about new things, the beginner level, because it’s exciting. Conversations and news reports are full of this kind of thing. It’s always fun to be starting something new.

Then we hear about the ongoing, successful, producing level. It feels comforting to recognize and be recognized for accomplishments. People, businesses or organizations reach this phase when they have been around for a while. They achieve what could be called the “adult” level.

That middle ground in between these levels – the adolescent level – is a bit tougher. It’s not cute and exciting like the new. And it’s not on firm ground like the adult. If you recall your growing-up years, you’ll probably remember that gangly teenager, trying to figure out the world.

A lot of things fall into the “to be determined” area.

The story beginning below, My Father’s House, is about that in-between level, and written from that perspective.

On this Father’s Day weekend, from hindsight, I offer it with remembrance of my father, who passed on in 2003.

This story was written several years before he left us.

Tomorrow, on Father’s Day, I’ll publish the rest of the story in Part 2.

My Father’s House – Part 1

Driving to my father’s house is a solid two and a half hours, straight driving, no stops. I’ve done it many times, I know the drill.

My father lives in a tall old white house across the road from the house were he grew up, across from the place we used to go on quiet winter Sundays to visit his mother. Now my sisters and I go to visit him, to make sure he’s taking at least some care of himself, checking his sugar, looking after his feet.

Everyone with aging parents goes through this. We’ve been watching him shrink in slow motion. I can remember him as he was years ago, building things. He worked as an electrician but knew more trades. He built one of our houses himself from scratch, nailed the stud walls, drove the well, shingled the roof. At another house, he built a pool – dug the hole with a secondhand Caterpillar tractor and a shovel, laid block, made cement.

My radio station fades out west of Ann Arbor. Silence. Time to think: Too much time to get there and back in a day. Too much time out of my time.

But time’s the issue.

Do it now while you can, while he’s still here. Do it now or forget it. Do it now unless you can live later, having not done it, and be at peace.

I set the cruise control on 72.

Sometimes my father took us on rides in the car on Sundays, just to look around. I didn’t like it, years ago, but now I do, especially driving through farmland and wide open spaces.

Land shows the seasons marching by, always something new: Who’s been plowing, is the wheat up yet, how tall’s the corn. The fields near Jackson show the year winding down. Weather-beaten trees and cornstalks show yellow through the green, sun beat and worn from the summer, ready for a rest not far away.

…Part 2 comes in the next post…

The Benefits of Structure

Structure can help bring forth your writing, in an easier way that you might have used in school, writing your themes from an outline.

Structure does not have to be formal. You can rearrange and change later, in the editing process.

In your content, you create structure in the kinds of sentences or paragraphs you include, such an introduction and conclusion. Either can be just a sentence, or a bit longer.

Then there are typographical elements that provide structure, such as bullet lists, numbered lists and subheads.

Any of these can be places to start.

• Take the list of ideas you want to include in your article, and treat each one as a bullet. Then you can put them in order.
• Treat each candidate as a writing prompt and start filling out the piece from there.
• Get at least three on your list, and you’re in business.

In journalism there’s an old method – five Ws and H – used to help fill out a story: who, what, when, where, why and how. These still work.

For example, ask yourself why the topic of your story works, or is important. This will bring out your ideas.

You can also go a bit farther, and use the question and answer variation on this point to produce fodder for your posts. Your customer’s questions are great idea-pullers.

Some early attention to structure will help you write quickly and efficiently. In the old days, you could cut and tape your papers together, or reshuffle your index cards, to bring your piece together.

Now we can do that same process much easier, with word processing software.

The benefits of structure remain the same. Without its underlying steel structure, the Empire State Building would just be a pile of Indiana limestone.

The Benefits of Blogging

Tonight I’m working on multiple blog posts, for this blog and a couple of others, devoted to my other passions.

This is my second 30-day challenge. What have I learned?

• Just write it. Put some bullet points on a page around a topic, and flesh it out. When you decide to do something, it becomes easier.
• Let the words flow. If you feel tempted to edit, just write that into the flow of the words as well. Writing is a right brain activity. You’ll come back later with your left brain and tweak the copy.
• Keep it simple. Pretend you are writing to someone you know.
• Brainstorm your ideas. Use a notebook, file folder or electronic file to capture your topic ideas – whatever works for you. This helps get the writing to flow as well.
• Drink water to keep your energy up. If you are falling asleep, you won’t be able to write well. I have promised myself at least two glasses before I get to my Diet Coke.
• Walking helps free up ideas. Physical activity helps make the words come loose as well. I like to alternate time at the computer with time doing something active.

Have fun! You will meet interesting people, and the ideas will come from all kinds of places that you could never have predicted. This is what keeps me coming back to blogging.

Now, off to write a couple more posts about this wonderful pizza sausage that’s made in the meat department at a local grocery, and some pretty, vintage china dishes you can use to serve ice cream.

Acres of Ideas

Where do ideas come from, to fuel a business with development of new products, processes or models?

Everywhere.

I’m participating in a 30-day blog challenge, and yesterday was the half way point. The organizers put on a check-in call for the participants.

As that call was ending, a further call was announced as a post-challenge celebration.

People began offering to bring food, as though this was to be a real picnic, not a virtual event. It became a fun game.

I offered broccoli salad, something handy to bring to a carry in. And I recalled how I had eaten this salad at an office carry-in, then developed my own recipe because I could not find one.

We can always create our own.

Something like a salad is easy, and business ideas can be, too. Start with the information or ideas you already have, and preliminary goals for their use as new products or services.

Then use paper and pen – or another favorite method you have for recording ideas – and let them flow.

No editing allowed. That step can come later.

If you can get five ideas, then you can get twenty. If you can get twenty, you can get 100. Nothing is too wild at this point, because you never know what wonderful idea can be born from something that seems a bit farfetched.

The 30-day blog challenge is a good tool to help ideas flow as well. Writing every day is a great way to build the habit of reaching for ideas and recording them.

Fifteen days accomplished, fifteen more to go. And if that end-of-challenge party becomes a reality, I will bring the broccoli salad.

Be the Storyteller – Part 4

The arc of a story takes the shape of a rainbow. It starts at one end, it rises to a climax, and then it resolves at a level similar (but not the same) as the point where it started.

Something occurred during the story, an insight or a change. We know something more than when we started.

To get the most impact from your story, give some thought to where the end will be, and how it will relate to the beginning. Then write your story to create harmony between the beginning and ending.

How did this story change you, and how will your reader be different?

Continued from Part 3, the last installment of the story…

Part 4 – Tie Up Loose Ends

I’ll say my journey to storyteller is a lot like George Lee’s journey to the west. He was willing to go despite obstacles, change all their lives, face uncertainty. He must have thought it would be worth it in the end.

My journey is mental, my Oregon a metaphor, and my wearing the garb of storyteller an analogy. Still, the role is real and I wouldn’t trade it.

Becoming a storyteller will put you on stage. At least to some extent, no hiding yourself under a basket.

Yet as storytellers, we have the privilege to see the awesome in the everyday, and tell those good stories.

Be the storyteller.

–

By making an arc in your story, you to tie up loose ends. Yet, there can always be another story, even when a particular tale seems final.

For example, Star Trek fans know that world and its stories well. However, in the most recent Star Trek movie which debuted in 2009, a new version of the story could be told. The imaginative creators found a way – consistent with the existing universe – to give this franchise new life.

I won’t spoil the story for those who haven’t seen the movie. Just say they left plenty of room for sequels.

Your own stories will be ongoing as well. My living your life – observing learning and experiencing – you will have plenty of material for your writing.

Then tell your story.

Use these links to review the story and storytelling tips:

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Related post, The Leonidas Pipe, from Diary of a Dishie

Be the Storyteller – Part 3

Stories help illustrate and ground more esoteric concepts. In the story within this series, I’m using the tale to illustrate topics such as developing another factor of your personality, pursuing a dream and moving forward with life.

You can think of this as a theme.

For Martha Stewart, I say the theme is how to create beauty at home, self-reliance in knowing techniques to create beauty, and enjoying those creations.

What will be the major point or lesson of your story?

Now, on with the story from Part 2…

Part 3 – Illustrate a Theme

So the Kimbels moved to Oregon, but it didn’t last. One day in 1929, my grandfather didn’t come home for dinner. Men from town found him behind the Fern Hill school, where he had been cutting a tree. A falling limb had broken his neck.

My grandmother did what had to be done: she packed up the children, came back to Michigan and went on with her life. She remarried, but I think part of her mourned Oregon for a long time. It became a conversation to avoid, something that was too distracting, to impractical, or too painful to bring into the present by talking about it.

She was not a sentimental person, but it is hard to remain untouched by an experience so profound, so large in family history.

George Lee passed into something like myth, almost like Camelot – a dream, briefly grasped – that has slipped away, taking on an ethereal quality like gossamer silk floating in a delicate breeze, lost to all but memory, sometimes even the memory doubted.

My father was only 4 when he returned to Michigan. He always said he wanted to go back to Oregon someday, to find his father’s grave.

And the story might have ended there, with an unfulfilled wish.

But we know Oregon was real. We added onto the story. We went there.

In 1983, I had to make a business trip out west. Remembering my father’s wish, I said, “Take me.” So we went.

We drove to Oregon and went to Rainier. We drove around the town and saw the places our ancestors saw. The story said that George Lee’s grave was on a hill overlooking the Columbia River, and it is.

I feel proud both to take a page and add a page in George Lee’s story, to reach for the distant star – because dreams are a place to start – and in middle age, to wear the mantle of the storyteller.

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Balance the factual elements with those that involve emotion to make your story memorable. What’s appropriate for your story will depend on the overall goal of your site and the business you are doing.

Just one more part to go…

Be the Storyteller – Part 2

Memories are a rich mine for stories. Look for the dramatic qualities, the universal qualities, that everyone can related to, even though they may not have had those experiences.

My customers in my dinnerware business, for example, are interested in replacing grandma’s china, even recreating whole sets of a certain, special pattern that is tied to family memories. In some cases this means a few pieces. Other times, it means a whole set.

Their mission is to obtain and use something that brings back happy times around the family dinner table or holiday occasions from the past.

What role will a story play in your communication with your customers?

On with the story from Part 1…

Part 2  – Mine memories and experience

My father knew this story, but mostly we had to pull it out of him, like gold out of the ground. In 1927, his father, my grandfather, George Lee Kimbel, moved his wife and three small children from Grand Rapids to Oregon. They sold most of what they owned and drove across the country to Rainier, a small lumbermill town on the Columbia River.

Generations of Kimbels had their share of wanderlust, but usually they stayed close to the Great Lakes, where they could maintain their connections with more rooted reltives, like the Cole and McClish families.

George Lee’s little band knew no one in Oregon.

I can imagine the family arriving in Rainier that November, after a long, tedious car trip. A fourth child was born within days of their arrival.

The cool autumn evenings were probably misty, like they are here in Michigan. And the air must have been thick with the earthy aroma of fir and spruce trees, so much like the pine woods of Manistee County, where my grandfather lived as a boy.

The Kimbel men worked at lumbering and carpentry, and George Lee had worked as a cabinetmaker in Grand Rapids. In Rainier he eventually found work at a local sawmill. But life was still difficult. He was laid off and picked up temporary work cutting trees.

It takes a dream to move, a vision of better things. George Lee must have had that, an imagined idea of how life would be better in Oregon, at least in the long run.

And he was determined. It takes work to make a cross-country move.

It also takes courage to change, when the only certainty is that you’re traveling into the unknown. You may think you’re going forward, but there are no guarantees.

–

Using specific details, such as place names and dates, helps a story come alive. Remember this is the Internet, so there might be things you don’t want to disclose, but many things can be told.

More to come…

Be the Storyteller – Part 1

I’ve been working on websites, and become immersed in the process of choosing and developing niches.

As I think about them – making refinements and choices – it seems to me that there is a broader level, above the niche, that is important to the overall goal.

And that is the story.

What story will I tell to illustrate and explain everything that comes next? Part of this will depend on the nature of the niche, the goal of the site, the customers and the products.

For example, Martha Stewart has a story that overarches her business, as do many others. Hers is about cooking and catering, flower arranging, her homes and chickens – there are many facets.

Your story, and how it connects with your business, is vital to your USP (unique selling position). It helps build your interaction with your customers and position within your niche.

It does not have to be a big or dramatic story, just something to add a human touch.

Human interest has always been interesting, regardless of the media used to deliver those stories.

What are the elements of story?

I’ll show my ideas by telling you a story, in serial form, like Dickens and other authors used more than 100 years ago, but still relevant today…think Lost.

Part 1 – Set the Stage

No one in my family tells stories about me, even my twin sister. I’m the one who notices the connections and distills the stories.

I’m the storyteller.

In ancient tribal societies where the storyteller is an official function, the novices spend years and years memorizing oral traditions, learning at the feet of the old masters, every generation adding a new piece. The Aborigines in Australia, the ancient Celts in Ireland, Native Americans, all had someone.

Storytelling has deep roots in humanity.

I took the storyteller role upon myself. No one else was doing it. I had to find my own way. I learned how to listen and how to see truth in simple acts. I dug up the ancestors, and started to tell their tales – from the simple ones, like Grandma Rice cooking chicken, Aunt Gertie’s greeting cards, or my sister Sue’s Internet romance. These are the charming stories that are easy to tell.

Then there are the hidden stories, the more complicated ones, like this story of a move to Oregon – the rich but difficult stories every family holds.

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Since this series is about becoming a storyteller, the background on storytelling traditions makes sense to help stage the story about this family tradition.

More to come…

Pre-Senior Perspective

I met a young person today who likes reading and books. Refreshing…. because I’ve also heard people in that age bracket says that books are dead.

From my perspective as a pre-senior, the nature of change is often interesting.

Pre-senior?

That is, anyone who’s in the 50 to 65 age bracket, old enough to be perceived as “older” by anyone under 40, but too young to get discount meals and other goodies reserved for “real” seniors.

Whether “pre-senior” will stick as a permanent fixture of the English language, it is no surprise that we pick up new words as time goes by, and especially as the Baby Boom generation makes its way through the decades. Even the term Boomer itself means different things to different people. It’s hardly a monolithic group, those people born between 1946 and 1964.

I catch both ends, being a mid-1950s Boomer. But I don’t spend much time reminiscing about where I was when Kennedy was shot, or when I first heard of the Beatles. I’ve got too much to do right now, in the here and now, working on my business.

More than a word, pre-senior has become status to play with, a different way to look at the world. In my case, maintaining focus on goals, and on being happy as a mud-pie maker, no matter where I am or what I’m doing: tedious tasks or the thrill of the hunt.

The pre-senior perspective gives the world a different twist. I’ll take it smiling, and have fun with it. Or in the words of that sassy one-liner, “Old enough to know better, but still young enough to enjoy it.”