“On your phone, you see her tweet: “I don’t like the chicken I’m eating.” What? Why doesn’t she send it back? Suddenly, it hits you: She’s telling scores of random strangers around the world that she doesn’t like her meal, but can’t be bothered to tell you sitting at the same table?”

“We reply to someone we don’t know on Facebook, and we won’t even look at the cashier at the grocery because we’re too busy typing text messages on our phones,” Gordhamer says. “Thich Nhat Hanh, the Vietnamese Zen poet, says the most valuable gift you can give someone is your attention. The danger with this new technology is you can become less available to your children, friends and partners in your real-life world.”

From The popularity of Twitter has some relationships in a twist

After hearing all the incredible feedback from my Negotiating Technology post, I thought of a another blog post I wrote in 2005 about taking the time to really hear someone in an age when it can often be hard to be fully present. Four years later, I think it’s still pretty relevant and thought I’d share it here:

Many years ago during a tramp in New Zealand, I learned the importance of really hearing someone. High in the mountains it was quiet except for one lone bird who called out loudly and continuously. Its call was the most tragic, saddest sound I had heard. I asked my friend why it kept making the noise that it did and my friend told me that it was waiting to be heard.

After a few minutes, another bird replied with one long loud sound which silenced the tragic sounding bird; it had been heard and didn’t need to call out anymore.

This past weekend, I was visiting with my four year old niece who is always terribly excited when I come around. We don’t see each other often and always have much to catch up on. For this reason, she repeats Auntie over and over again, vying for my attention.

When I saw her and she started with her Auntie, Auntie and desperately trying to get everything out to me while she could, I slowly knelled down beside her, put her little hands in mine, looked at her and calmly said, “I hear you. I will hear you until you have told me everything you need to say.”

With that, you could literally see her little body relax. There wasn’t the worry that I would only pay half attention or walk away. She could relax and slowly tell me everything that was important to her whether it be how we could cut and paste a card together or what she learned in school.

There are so many things as people that we have to pay attention to and with the internet and television we are used to scanning, flipping, and catching only bits. The art of listening, of hearing the other person fully, is slipping away. We tend to assume we already know what they’ll say, the answer to the question or that it’s not as important as what might come next. Hearing doesn’t seem to be important anymore.

I very seldom offer advice but what I always offer is to hear a person. Sometimes people don’t want a solution, they just want to be heard. Sometimes people don’t want things; they just want to be heard. Sometimes people don’t want to be advice, they just want to be heard.

Often I wonder if we really stopped to be fully in the moment of someone telling us their woes, their fears, or their excitements, how much that would really change things. Perhaps that sounds too easy but often the answers to the most complicated questions are the simplest words. Words such as, I hear you.

In most European countries, Denmark in particular, new mothers push their babies in prams something I can’t recall ever seeing in any US city I’ve been to. Because these prams are rather large and most shops are very small, mothers often leave their babies bundled up in the prams while they quickly pop into a store. Time and time again I saw prams with babies outside stores and no one ever seemed to think it strange or dangerous.

When I shared this with friends in the U.S., everyone sighed at the idea of living in such a society where one could do that. Each lamented how that would be impossible here. In fact, I heard a lot of parents say how they don’t even let their children play in the front yard for fear of strangers or something happening.

However, Salon’s recent article, Stop Worrying about your Children, suggest that the fear is in our minds:

“The crime rate today is equal to what it was back in 1970. In the ’70s and ’80s, crime was climbing. It peaked around 1993, and since then it’s been going down.

If you were a child in the ’70s or the ’80s and were allowed to go visit your friend down the block, or ride your bike to the library, or play in the park without your parents accompanying you, your children are no less safe than you were.

But it feels so completely different, and we’re told that it’s completely different, and frankly, when I tell people that it’s the same, nobody believes me. We’re living in really safe times, and it’s hard to believe.”

I live in a highly affluent area where people are 97% satisfied with the city and 98% satisfied with the city’s (almost non-existent) crime rate. It’s a very safe area that has a relatively large family population (in multi-million dollar homes) yet I can literally count on one hand the number of children I’ve seen (or heard) playing outside.

I’m not one of those people who believes the world is a more dangerous place but I think I owe this to several things: I don’t have a television, I listen to NPR, I’m an optimist. So not being inundated with daily doses of murders or glorified crimes that sell headlines and instill fear. Instead I can take in information from relatively calm sources and assess every situation as it is - not what it’s made out to be.

Are there dangerous areas? Of course! But as adults we have the ability to judge when it’s safe and when it’s not. Front yards, probably safe. Leaving a child in a pram outside, depends on where you are. I think what it also comes down to is knowing your community. Knowing the people around you.

In Denmark, for example, people don’t go to large lot stores to buy goods; they patronize the local flower shop, the butcher, the seamstress, the same pub. People get to know each other so there is a sense of responsibility to look out for one another. There’s a sense of trust. Stores are set up so that you can see your pram outside or you know how long it’s going to take you to run in and out.

One of the places I find really interesting to see this sort of thing is at Disneyland. There are thousands of strollers in the park and, when you go on a ride, you must leave it. You see all sorts of things being left on the strollers (souvenirs, clothing, bags, toys, food) yet the crime rate at Disneyland is very, very low. There’s a certain sense of trust (we’re in the happiest place on earth!), a certain sense of relaxation (we’re on vacation!) and a sense of community (we’re all here to have a good time!). What if Main Street in Disneyland wasn’t just in Disneyland? What if it existed in our towns and cities too?

Would you be more willing to leave a pram, a stroller, your bike, your dog out? Would you do it now?

For the last year, since the writers strike in LA, things have been quiet. And by quiet I mean there’s been fewer parties both professional and private. There’s been less get togethers for coffee and outings. And when the recession really hit us last fall, things almost seemed to stop. It was as if most people equated fun with either business or spending money. The free or cheap kind just didn’t seem an option. This made being in LA less fun and had me feeling a little older.

So I decided to shake things up; bike ride in pig tails more, play yahtzee with friends, spend the day at the beach, read a book on the couch every night, bake, laugh, sit in cafe’s and be nothing but in a good mood to every one I met. It had me feeling 18 all over.

Apparently, that feeling caught on because a friend noticed the fun and wanted it, badly. Her life had become full of work, bill paying, worrying, social climbing, decorating, managing and less about fun. She realised something had to change when she got caught unexpectedly in sprinklers that went off at a local park which made her furious at first, only to make her burst into laughter at the situation. A situation that, 15 years ago, she would have sought out for fun. She realised she hadn’t laughed like that or felt so young in ages. She couldn’t wait for an unexpected sprinkler system to go off to find the fun, she had to create it.

So what did she decide to do? Set up her house in Palm Springs as if it were the 90’s - the music, food, games, 90210 playing on TV and telling everyone to dress the part (I’ve got my baggy logo sweatshirt, shorts & hair clip ready!) and act their 90’s age. It was going to be a weekend of no-responsibility, of freedom, of fun.

I couldn’t pack my bags fast enough.

I turned 18 in 1992 and life was pretty amazing. I didn’t have millions, I didn’t own any furniture, I didn’t have a career or ambition or pets. Without all those worries, without all those responsibilities, without all the have to’s (created or real) I was able to create so much fun and so many stories to tell. And although things have changed now (I have furniture, a career, pets, responsibilities and things to manage) what hasn’t changed is the need to find the fun. In fact, it’s probably more important now. Creating stories to tell shouldn’t just happen in your 20’s - it should be an ongoing thing whether you’re 18, 35 or 65.

So I’m headed for a road trip with a girlfriend for a holiday break, just like in the video above when I took a summer vacation in 1991 with my girlfriend (I was 17!). Of course it won’t be the same and I don’t expect it too. I just expect to have a really good time. And I hope this weekend you find the fun, too. Whether it’s on the road, in your own backyard or just over a glass of wine or cup of coffee.

On February 28, 2001 I was working in an office in Seattle. I was standing, chatting with my boss when the building began to rock. I looked at him and calmly asked, “Are we having an earthquake?” “I think so,” he said.

It was so surreal that it took us a moment to dive under our desks but just as we did, bookcases started tumbling, the lights went out, we could hear crashing coming from all over along with screaming as our building was an outdoor sports gear manufacturing plant that had heavy machinery downstairs and the offices upstairs. Water hoses were going off, cranes falling, the upstairs floor went downstairs and part of the roof caved. For about 3 minutes, we laid under the desks, rolling as the floor literally went up and down.

When it stopped, we had to maneuver debris and the dark to get outside. Once outside, we all shook. The earthquake was a 6.8 and our office happened to be in one of the hardest hit areas (Starbucks corporate office was across the street, and they suffered broken windows and fallen floors). We all tried our cellphones but they weren’t working. At the time, my home was in Madison Park and was built over Lake Washington. I worried about my cat being OK but didn’t know my neighbours or anyone near there. It took me about 5 hours to get home that night and I worried the whole way home.

In the last month, here in Santa Monica we’ve had 3 earthquakes of at least 4.0. There’s a huge prediction tomorrow for one over 4.5 (on a fault that is expected at some point to do over a 7.4). The quake on Sunday and today had me shaking - and thinking - not just about my safety, but about those around me.

I’m fortunate right now to be working from home so when the quakes have struck, I can get myself and my pets to safety. But my neighbours all work outside the home - two of them have dogs and one has a couple of cats. LA traffic on a good day is a nightmare, after a quake it’s going to be a mess.

I’ve spent a lot of time talking about community - both online and off. I’ve spent a lot of time talking about service and connection. But I confess that it wasn’t until my current flat that I really began to know my neighbours. For the first time since coming to America in 1999, I feel connected to the people around me which - for anyone living in a major city - will tell you that’s a rarity. So many times the buildings are faceless and the people who live right next door are unknown. Maybe if you live next door to Creepy Mc. Creeperston you want to keep it that way but unless you live in an isolated area in the country or in totally Mc.Creepville, then you have people all around you that might need your help, your kindess or just a hello (and you might need it too).

When one neighbour asked the other day if I could let his dog out during the day, he at first offered to pay me for this. But since the dog is only there part time (with his girlfriend the other half) and I have to let my own dog out, I gladly told him I would - without pay. I think when someone can do a simple human kindness, they should. Being neighbourly shouldn’t cost us anything. Besides, what if I needed someone to let Jack out? What goes around.

After today’s quake, I wondered if my neighbour had a plan for his dog. Then I thought of my other neighbour and her cats. Then I thought of my other neighbour and their dog. If something happened to this building, wouldn’t they want their pets safe or to have someone to call?

So I wrote up little cards with all my contact info (full name, phone/text, & email) with an offer that, if I’m here during a quake, to be a contact person for their pets. That I’d do my best to make them safe. I also wrote that if they needed help during the day with breaks or during vacation, I’m here. And if they wanted to chat over a glass of wine one evening, I’m here for that, too.

I should say that I’m actually shy in my personal life (work life is totally different) and I’m generally not one for just chatting or opening up. Often I can feel a lack of connection to those around me simply because I create it. But that can’t change unless I change my actions to match my beliefs which is that we need each other, we need community, and we need support. Especially if we don’t have family nearby or we’re new to the neighbourhood or we’re single with pets or kids. Everyone needs connection and at one time or another, needs help.

I’d offer that if you don’t know your neighbours, get to know them in any way you can. Say ‘hi’ when you see them, offer to help if you see them needing it (moving, carrying in groceries). Pay special attention to neighbours with needs (single parents, elderly, disabled) and offer help to them or to be of service during an emergency (quake, flood, tornado). Give your neighbours your contact info and take theirs - you’ll never know when it’ll come in handy.

It’s often so easy to say that we live in a world where no one cares about each other or helps each other out like ‘in the good old days.’ I’m guilty of saying this sometimes and it’s at that moment I ask myself, what is my participation in that? Am I connecting? Am I being of service? Am I caring to those around me? It doesn’t take a lot of time or effort, it just takes a little step forward.

And I think we can all do that. It’s not that scary. I promise.

Best Bath Ever from my stay at Hotel Particulier, Paris (#16 on the list)

One of the things that really started me re-thinking how I was living was re-discovering a couple of to-do lists I had made; the first was one I recently found from when I was 9 and the second was 30 things I had set out to do in my 30th year.

Reading both these lists I realised I had done much of what I had set out to do, even though I had forgotten these lists and, aside from these two, hadn’t made or followed any others. Writing them down, thinking about them, giving them weight at some point, must have impacted me enough to make most of them real. I began to think if I could do most things on those short lists, what would I do with a ginormous one?

And so my 101 Things To Do Before I Die list was born. What made it on the list? Everything below (if it’s struck-through it means I did it!):

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When I was five my mum handed me her camera, a 1915 Kodak Brownie, and told me I could take a picture. We had an amazing yard and there’s was lots going on, but for my first picture I ever took, I took it of her (you can see my little shadow in front).

I didn’t get my first official camera until 2000 and I gave my mum her first digital just a few years ago, so we’re both relatively new to photography although we have a long love affair with it. We also have a love affair of noticing little details that others might not. This is why I love travelling with her or just generally being around her.

But on this mothers day she couldn’t be here (I have to wait a few more weeks!) so I decided that I would take her on a walk in spirit by celebrating the best gift she gave me: the gift of seeing things.

I have a couple of walking routes so tonight I took her along on one. So mum, here’s what we saw:

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“Luxury is a humorless thing, largely. Chic is all about humor. Which means chic is about intelligence. And there has to be oddness — most luxury is conformist, and chic cannot be. Chic must be polite, but within that it can be as weird as it wants.” Luca Turin

If anyone caught my Twitter about looking for a Victorian fixer-upper and wondered where that idea came from it came from a weekend visit to Heritage Square near Pasadena CA. There I spent a good two hours touring several Victorian homes that are being restored by a group of volunteers and the city. It was the Perry residence, pictured above, that really had me. And that surprised me because although I love to look at these homes and appreciate a lot of renovations I’ve seen in various cities and countries, it was this particular house that had me Googling until the wee hours of the morning.

There were several features I liked; the big porch, the tall ceilings, the perfectly sized rooms, the simple yet grand look of it. But one of my favourite features was the home office - it had a side entrance (if you look to the left of the photo, past the porch, you’d see the door) so that business and pleasure was not mixed. All business partners, inquiries, deliveries were made through the side door so that they’d never come in through your home or your (stay at home) wife wouldn’t be bothered. Inside the office (the front left window) was a fireplace and built-in book case (photos of the inside aren’t allowed. I wish!) and a door leading into the home. I would love to have this kind of work/home life balance and I would honestly go out my front door and in through the side every day!

What I also loved was that the rooms, though tall, weren’t necessarily that big - they fit exactly what was needed. The kitchen was small but totally sufficient (and would have been were maids/cooks worked with ease) and storage was optimally used. So although it seems like a big house and housed a family of 6, it was actually, by today’s standards, small. Perfect for me!

There were other Victorian homes and most of them were far too ornate for my taste with the different paints and carvings. But it was an interesting look at how these homes have survived over 150 years (some in pretty bad shape but still, the structure is there) later and to fantasize about what it’d be like to restore one a la Anna at Door Sixteen!

 

Boho Magazine
Printed on recycled paper with lots of fantastic (but never preachy) eco-friendly information from lifestyle to fashion to activism. I really enjoyed the feel of this new magazine, both in holding it and in reading it. It’s refreshing to see something eco-friendly and stylish without lacking substance but without being too granola-y. It’s smart, it’s fun, and it’s totally worth buying. They even have a blog.

Moorish-Style Chickpea And Spinach Stew
This recipe was on NPR the other day as part of their “How Low Can You Go” program which focuses on family meals under $10. As I listened to Celebrity chef Jose Andres explain how he cooked this meal (the chickpeas “talking” to the spinach and the lovely conversation they had) the hungrier I became. I’m please to say it’s fantastic, cheap and easy!

Tubmleweed Houses
Tiny (and I mean tiny - from 70sf) home plans you can buy and build. I am seriously looking at purchasing plans for the B-53 and making it a 3-bedroom. It looks like such great usable space which is the key to living small. I just need to find land… and a town…!

Small Living Journal
A site dedicated to, what else, small living. From downsizing to living in small homes (like the Tumbleweed), I’ve found myself reading almost every blog post on this site. The reason? It’s just so mainstream in the sense it’s not fanatics or single people living small - it’s couples with high paying jobs, young newlyweds starting out or older people. People who have gone from huge power homes to simple living and how they adjust. If you’ve ever wondered how to really downsize and make it work, this is a really useful site.

Let real healthcare reform begin with me
Great article on how universal healthcare is flawed unless personal responsibility comes into play.

Hand Stamped Plant tags
I love Willi’s blog and ideas on gardening (and so does Sunset Magazine where she was most recently featured!). This is something I would love to do when I get a garden, regardless of the size of my gardens (pots, beds or yards). Until then, I think they’d make fantastic gifts for my gardening friends.

Reasons to Sleep In
Maybe I won’t try to get into a ‘regular schedule’: Night owls are more creative. Artists, writers, and coders typically fire on all cylinders by crashing near dawn and awakening at the crack of noon. In one study, “evening people” almost universally slam-dunked a standardized creativity test. Their early-bird brethren struggled for passing scores.

Looking back at how I was raised and how the household was run, I can say that we were extraordinarily eco-friendly and self-sufficient although we never would have called ourselves that. There was no green movement then and those who talked about doing good things for the earth were thought of as hippies or granola girls, both of which were easily cast as crazy, out there, or of making no sense.

My mother was raised in a relatively well to do family that had a nice home, private school, and fancy clothes. My father was raised by a relatively poor family that struggled and lacked most regular things. However, both of them generally lived with the idea of having a self-sustaining garden, of buying local (and knowing all your local sellers from produce to meat to clothing), of buying only what you needed from food to housewares, of living within your means, thrifting, bartering, of recycling and repurposing.

We actually never ate granola but we did eat seasonally because we bought directly from the butcher, the fish shop and the local farmers. My mother made a lot of my clothes when I was younger, we resoled our shoes until they were completely gone and my father darned our socks with dental floss. At the same time my mother bought a few expensive Danish teak pieces for our living room from a well-known store, my father did a yearly shop at a gentlemen’s store for his high-quality and expensive suits and cost wasn’t spared when it came to entertaining guests either for an intimate brunch or a big night time summer party. We were a one family car - even when we lived out in the country (my mother biked with me) and when I was old enough to bike I had to go through several hand me downs before I got my first brand new one. We gardened together, we built and revamped houses together, we camped together and we went to elegant dinners together. We participated in every range of life depending on what our needs were. It was about working with our means and our lifestyle. It wasn’t a movement, it wasn’t extra effort, it wasn’t hard or something deserving of a brownie badge. It was just basic, every day living.

I think the biggest misconception is that the eco-movement is that - a movement. Something that only some people are doing, something that doesn’t have to be done. Something that only those with money or without children can do. Something that is for them, not us. Something that takes energy or time when the truth is, it’s just about conscious living. About being respectful of yourself and your environment which then leads naturally to being aware and respectful of the total environment.

I most likely won’t have a home run on solar panels. I won’t be buying an electric car and I’m not raising chickens. I don’t sew or thrift, I’m not vegan and can’t imagine giving up fish or eggs.  But I’m conscious of the way I live, where I shop, what comes into my home and what goes out. And, as the saying goes, a waterfall begins with only one drop and look what comes from that.

So, in honour of Earth Day I bring to you my favourite links, tips and ideas:

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