Margie Clayman

You know how when you’re a little kid, the dark corners of your room can seem really scary? Those spots under your bed, that shadow the door leaves on your floor, that little nook in the wall near your closet – they all seem like great places for monsters and bogey men. After a lot of sleepless nights, your mom and dad probably caved in and got you a tiny little night light. Now, most nightlights are pretty darned small and the light they generate is not really overwhelmingly life-altering, but somehow, it’s enough. We feel like our concerns have been addressed, we feel like someone cares, and hey, that little nightlight does lighten up those super dark spots a little bit. At least it gets easier to tell that there aren’t monsters hiding in your room, right?

When a person is going through a really hard time, their every day existence can seem like that dark room from your childhood. Every corner seems to have another new obstacle to face. Every shadow seems to be an omen of more bad things ahead. Efforts may be made to open the blinds to let any light in, but the moon isn’t out and it’s pitch black everywhere. It seems for this person like there is no way things can get any lighter, and the people who keep reminding them that morning is just around the corner just don’t seem to get it.

When you see a friend or a loved one going through times like these, there is one little thing you can do that can be more powerful than any “Chicken Soup for the Soul” book.

You can give them that nightlight otherwise known as hope.

Hope is kind of an overused word and it sounds a lot more glamorous, perhaps, than it really is sometimes. Just like nightlights, sometimes hope can be delivered in the tiniest of packages, and you may not think it’s enough to make any kind of difference. But there is the actual hope you are giving someone and then there is the fact that you stopped to help. That makes the light shine brighter.

Hope can come in all kinds of forms. For children who are living on the streets who may not have hope for a better future, hope can be a new home, help with school, and a good breakfast. For a person being bullied all of the time, hope can arrive in the form of a kind and caring word. For a person with economic problems or health problems, new solutions, or even the possibility of new solutions, can be how hope shows itself.

Hope may not be enough to solve a person’s problems. It might not even be enough to make them feel better for very long. But hope has a way, just like a nightlight, of evening out those extra dark spots so you don’t have to spend energy worrying about those lurking monsters. Offering a person a little light when they are surrounded by the deepest darkest night can be a little reminder that people are out there pulling for them.

Have you gone out of your way to offer someone who seemed to be without hope a little boost? Have you spent some time thinking about ways a person could attack his or her problems? Have you considered one small thing we could do to help someone feel a little lighter and a little more loved? It’s free, and in fact it’s priceless. But oh the value your time and energy will carry for that person grasping in the dark and cowering from monsters.

It’s worth a shot, isn’t it?

Image by Christie Thomas. http://www.sxc.hu/profile/cnw

When you come right down to it, my life is guided by two principles.

1. Do no harm to others.

2. Do not sit in silence while others meet harm.

There are no reasonable exceptions to either rule. Whether it is your friend or your enemy, and whether that person is on the receiving end or the giving end, do no harm to others and do not sit idly by while others meet harm.

That is all.

I decided to plop down for some much deserved relaxation (if I might say) to discover that the Family Channel, in an effort to count down to its 25-day countdown to Christmas, is showing yet another Harry Potter marathon. There’s nothing too spectacular about that – it seems they show a Potter marathon every month at some point. However, in watching tonight, a particular line jumped out at me. It’s a line from Dumbledore.

“It is not our abilities that make us who we are. It is the choices we make.”

Could there be a more apropos statement about the world of social media?

The Abilities We Admire

If you look at a lot of the most well-respected and/or most popular people in the online world, they all share many of the same abilities. Think about it for a moment. They are good writers. They are good at simplifying the difficult and talking about things ahead of the curve. They are charismatic and can make you feel like they are talking to you (and only you). They can make you feel really special and thus can guide you to do things that help them in return (some might call this being manipulative, but manipulation is still an ability).

If you bring these abilities to the online world, you may define yourself as an up and coming star. It may seem like the way is paved with gold for you and that you have no choice but to head towards 100 million followers, 2 million Facebook fans, and, well, Google numbers of people circling you on Google Plus. Like King Midas, it can seem like anything you touch in the online world can turn into gold and magic.

Abilities can take you pretty far. There’s no question about it. But we define what abilities are special and what abilities will go without recognition. These abilities are in the eyes of beholders. We do not really define ourselves by our abilities, in the end. Rather, it is the choices we make that define us.

Infinite choices

Consider the following comparison. There are two people standing side by side. Both are great writers. Both are charismatic. Both can entice people to think in new ways. One of our guinea pigs opts to use these abilities to help out people and spread positivity. The other chooses to spread negativity and uses their abilities to create controversy and discontented masses.

Do you define both people as merely good writers, or does the latter person become known as “the troublemaker” or the “troll”? Does the first person merely remain “a good writer” or do they become “that helpful person”?

We are focusing on the wrong things

Every day in the online world, we concentrate on abilities. How can you write so that you get more comments? How can you hone your Twitter strategy so that you get more followers? How can you make the most out of Facebook pages or Twitter chats?

But these are all abilities. Mastering these skills brings us into a certain category in the eyes of others. What defines us? What differentiates us?

Our choices. Our decision regarding what to do with all of those followers. Our methodology for how to deal with our blog community. Our rationale for following back or talking to some people and not others. Our theorizing that spreading kindness is more valuable than spreading hurt, or vise versa.

The online world as a whole (and I count myself quite guilty in this) is stuck in the first step, at that first rung of the ladder. We are helping each other to increasingly high levels of abilities, but we are not assisting each other in dealing with those abilities. What do you do when your abilities bring you to a point of online celebrity? How do you decide how to treat those who hang on your bloggy coattails? These are things that people do not talk about, but ultimately, all of our online legacies depend on this second and most important facet of what we are doing here.

People can learn to write well. People can learn to fit pretty profound things into 140 characters. But choices, every day and with every bit of content you send out into the world, well, those are the things that people will remember about you in the end. They will not remember that your grammar was spot on or that you got retweeted a lot. They will remember what you did with those abilities. They will define us as we define ourselves – by the choices we make, not the abilities we hoard and nurture.

Don’t you think?

Image by B Cleary. http://www.sxc.hu/profile/br0

A week ago, I announced that I was going to be backing away from social media a bit. Not entirely, but certainly not doing as much as I have done for the last year and a half. The reaction to my sentiments has been entirely surprising to me. Not only have people been so kind and understanding and supportive, but many have said something along the lines of, “I know where you’re coming from.” In fact, that sentiment lies at the core of a brilliant blog post that my friend Tommy Walker wrote for the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette about the dangers of online entrepreneurship. Now that I think about it, you should probably go read that post, then come back here. It’s okay. I’ll wait for ya.

I’ve been trying to think of a way to encapsulate what so many of you have said. What Tommy said. And what I have been feeling. Suddenly, it hit me right upside the head. The story of Pinocchio is the perfect way to explain the feelings many have about the online world these days.

You’re skeptical, aren’t you? Well, bear with me here.

The wooden toy

As you probably know, the beginning of Pinocchio’s story begins mundanely enough. He is a little wooden puppet sitting on a shelf. He doesn’t have a personality, he can’t talk or think or feel or do anything, right?

Well, that’s kind of how we all start out in the online world. We are very stiff and we don’t have our voices yet. We sit there and wait for people to talk to us, maybe. We try to look the right way or sound the right way, but we’re just not sure of what we’re supposed to do.

Now, luckily for Pinocchio, Gepetto, the man who crafted him, wishes on a falling star. He wishes that his little wooden puppet can turn into a real boy that he can love like a son. Like in all good stories, a wish upon a star has no option other than to come true, but it doesn’t quite come true all the way. Pinocchio is able to walk and talk, but he still looks like a wooden puppet. The Blue Fairy and the amazing Jimney Cricket arrive and inform Pinocchio that he must prove his worth in order to become the real boy that Gepetto is wishing for.

As we stick around in the online world, we also wish to become “real” somehow, but in the meantime, we learn how to walk the walk and talk the talk. We may meet people who are our Jimney Crickets, and we are always hoping for that magical Blue Fairy who can swoop down and make things easier for us. But even the Blue Fairy cannot make Pinocchio into a real boy. He needs to do that himself. Similarly, hoping that a big name or a person with a lot of followers can swoop down and take you where you want to go doesn’t really work. They can offer you advice and help you out, but in order to reach your ultimate goals, whatever those may be, you need to do the real hard work yourself.

More money than you can shake a stick at

Along his path of becoming a real boy Pinocchio encounters unsavory characters who tell him that if he acts in a show, he can make more money than he could ever imagine. They are nice to Pinocchio, and despite Jimney’s warnings, Pinocchio considers the evil fellows friends. After all, one has the name “Honest John” and they both are promising him that his life will get better. The promise of money is enough to distract Pinocchio from his ultimate goal, and he pays a hefty price for this diversion. I mean, heck, he ends up turning into a donkey (otherwise known in some circles as a jack-ass).

In the online world, there are all kinds of diversions and distractions. If you are here to network, the promise of making a ton of money with a great deal of ease can be enough to pull you off your trail. If you are here to build your business, the people who say you can become an “influencer” may be enough to take you off course. Along the way, you follow people whom you assume have your best interests at heart. They may have titles like “guru” or they may seem really kind and friendly. You can also pay dire consequences for these distractions, however. Failing to promote your business whilst promoting only yourself can result in your business failing. Failing to remember the people in your community as you start to make money can lose you your credibility and your friends. The Blue Fairy and Jimney Cricket can only chase after you and remind you of your ultimate goals. They cannot control what you say and do.

Proving Your Worth

For Pinocchio, earning a real life is accomplished when he willingly sacrifices his own life to save Gepetto. He doesn’t know that doing this will make all of his dreams come true. He just knows at that moment that he wants to save the man who is his father.

As you work here in the online world, how can you earn that ultimate goal you are seeking? Do you remember what you are trying to accomplish here? Do you remember the path you started on?

Remember, Pinocchio’s nose doesn’t grow longer when others know that he has lied to them. It grows longer when he knows that he is lying to others. Have you been deceiving yourself in the face of this social media power? Is your nose longer than it used to be?

It is never too late to revisit where you started from and where you want to end up. Distractions and mistakes can be forgiven and easily fixed, but they need to be identified first. It is time to take this initiative. The Blue Fairy and your friend Jimney Cricket cannot make this happen for you. Dreams really do come true, but you must work for them.

It’s time to become real, don’t you think?

1st Image by Bjorn de Leeuw. http://www.sxc.hu/profile/nr49

2nd Image by Lynn Cummings. http://www.sxc.hu/profile/lynnc

Around the time that I got into high school, there was a noticeable height disparity between me and my cohorts. The height ratio was such that, well, how can I put this delicately. Where upon someone wouldst cut the cheese walking to class, I would be one of the first to smell it. I would watch as the guilty party would saunter away from the scene of the crime. About 2 minutes later, people everywhere would start plugging their noses. “Ohhhh, who dealt that one?” I would know, but I would never out the guilty party. First of all, they were always long gone by then, and second of all, I wanted to live.

Now that I am all grown up  I am finding myself in a somewhat similar situation for very different reasons. There are some things out there that just stink to high heaven, and people don’t really seem to be noticing. Some things stink so badly, in fact, that they make me need to back away for a little while to cleanse my nostrils and get my head back on straight. I think people will notice at some point, but right now, at this point, I have the option of clearing my throat and nodding in the general direction of the stench or remaining silent (but not deadly).

While the chances of me being beaten up on the playground have diminished substantially over the last hem hem years, there are still problems that can arise from being the local stinkometer. I present to the jury the following potential predicaments.

He who smelt it dealt it

In both scenarios, there is a real catch-22 that can best be summarized by this very childish retort. If you call someone out for dropping a stink bomb, they can come back and say, “He who smelt it dealt it.” In the online world, if you call someone out, they can come back and say, “Oh yeah, well I think you’re just calling me out to get attention, so I’m going to call you out!” This conversation really doesn’t get anywhere particularly special and intellectual, and it really doesn’t help in many other ways either.

Kill the messenger

Another problem that can arise when you are working the stinkometer beat is that you can be in that unenviable position of being the bearer of bad/icky news. No one wants to be embarrassed, despite what you might think when you leaf through the tabloids. f people perceive that you’re trying to kick someone who’s already down, they’re not going to attack that person. They’re going to attack you. And that’s a real bummer.

“I don’t smell anything”

Of course, the final obstacle in pointing to something that smells bad is that smell is a rather tricky thing. Where you smell something bad, a person with a stuffed up nose may not smell anything. They might think they are smelling something good, even (Okay, that’s more for the online world part of this analogy, though you never know). If you are trying to explain to a person with a stuffed nose that something really smells bad, it’s just not going to matter to them. It isn’t invading their nostrils or their sense of well-being. They’re wondering why you’re making such a big deal out of something that impacts them not at all.

What do you do when you notice that something kind of stinks? Do you twitch your nose just a little till someone asks you what in the heck you’re doing? Do you yell out, “OH MAN WHAT IS THAT??” Or do you sit back and watch the ripples of the bad smell do what they may?

How do you work as the stinkometer?

Image by Julia Freeman-Woolpert. http://www.sxc.hu/profile/juliaf

Not too long ago, I wrote a post about how I was going to try to reclaim my love of the online world after all of the ugliness surrounding the death of Trey Pennington in early September.

Although I hate to admit it, I am not having a whole ton of success.

Part of the issue is time. Social Media is like those spider webs Frodo gets caught in when he gets stuck in Shelob’s lair. The more you move around, the more tangled up you get. You get tangled up with people. You get tangled up with new platforms, then newer platforms. Writing for one site becomes writing for 27. Somehow. It seems like it all happens accidentally, and yet…

Part of the issue too though is that there has just been a steady marching parade of scenarios that have worn me down a bit. I have weathered a lot of it pretty well I think, like that person who co-created something with me writing a post about how stupid it was. That kind of stunk, but so it goes. Being bullied by someone and having people around you “lol” was kind of a bummer too.

But really, what I’m struggling most with  is the death of Bruce Serven. Not necessarily his death, which would have been sad enough, but the manner of his death. See, Bruce had his Twitter account set up to tweet my posts whenever I’d publish them, so I would see his Twitter avatar every day. He’d comment quite often here on my blog. We’d chat. I promoted him as one of the top 60 men in the online world, in fact.

And then I found out that before taking his own life, this man who I saw on my little screen every day killed his son. His infant son.

I can’t say that I am mourning this as a friend would. But that’s the point. I can’t really picture Bruce without the sombrero he’s wearing in his Twitter avatar picture. I have no idea what he looked like over the last few months. What did his voice sound like? I promoted this person and viewed him as someone who might become a friend at some point, and I had no idea how broken he really was.

True, this can happen in offline relationships too. I get that. But this event made me realize that I need to back away a bit from the online world for awhile.

I will not leave the online world entirely. I’m not sure that’s entirely possible once you get started. You meet too many people you enjoy conversing with. But I will not be doing my weekly Tweetdiner chat for awhile, anyway. And I won’t be tweeting and blogging as much as your’re used to.

I hesitated writing this post because it can seem like such a “pay attention to me” thing. But really I just felt it would be irresponsible to just pull back with no warning.

I hope you can understand.

And thank you!

Image by Dave Edmonds. http://www.sxc.hu/profile/bluehor