Citing our Experiences: Documenting our Lives

My favorite picture from my 33rd birthday:
A selfie of a selfie of a selfie

The New York Times published an Op-Ed on Sunday, entitled "The Documented Life." The author, Sherry Turkle, uses the article to examine our current obsession with "screen time" and the impact said time has on our lives. Ms. Turkle cites President Obama's recent selfie kerfuffle at Nelson Mandela's Memorial Service as an example of how our need to document our every thought and our every move might be making our appreciation of moments a bit shallow.

An as avid consumer of online media, this article gave me pause. The fact that I found this article through a link on a friend's Facebook page also contributed to my aforementioned ruminations (apparently today is $5 word day in Holly's world). After a great deal of thought, I've reached a few conclusions, and, in the grand internet tradition, I present them below in a fabulous list format.

1. Screen time enables lifelong learning.
I am a lifelong learner. I consider a day in which I don't learn something new as a wasted day. I often find myself pulling up Google on my phone, my tablet, or my computer, searching something I've just read or seen or heard. To borrow from Ms. Turkle, I might be the woman at the Lincoln Memorial with my phone out. I might be searching something about Lincoln's life, the ramifications of his actions, or his long-term impact on our country. Or I might be making a note to do a more detailed search on a specific Lincoln-motivated subject when I have more time.

2. Pictures tell the best stories.
When I was five, my parents loaded my brother and me into the backseat of our Honda Civic hatchback and, together, we set out on a four week exploration of the American West. Armed with my brand-new camera, I set about documenting our adventure, as only a five-year-old can. I had the first roll of film taken before we turned off our road. For weeks, we explored purple mountains majesty and amber waves of grain. We saw Old Faithful, Mt. Rushmore, the Tetons, the Bad Lands, and so many more iconic American destinations. And for all that adventure and all those sites, can you guess which photos are most often shared? Photos of the back of my dad's head as we pulled out of the driveway. Pictures of my brother pretending to be a dinosaur in front of, well, anything he happened to be in front of. Portraits of my beloved stuffed cat, Spot, posed in front of majestic landscapes or our little family car. These are the images that spark our memories, invoke our emotions, and, ultimately, detail our family's Western Odyssey. I can promise you, had our family adventure taken us to the Lincoln Memorial, our photo album would include a picture of a plush feline posed in front of our venerable 16th President, accompanied by another photo of a three-year-old boy, claws up and fangs bared, ready to trample all over any predator, from the Cretaceous period or otherwise, who would dare threaten Honest Abe.

3. Restricting screen time and modeling responsible screen time are two different things.
I cannot imagine pulling out my phone when I'm sitting at my parents' (or grandparent's) dining room table. It's not because I've been forbidden from using my phone. I could probably live-tweet dinner with Grandma and no one would argue with me. Well, maybe my poor Twitter followers. No, my family wouldn't blink at my phone being at the table. But my phone would never be at the table. I've been taught, more like raised, to understand that dinner time is family time and few things are as important as family. Furthermore, I'm lucky enough to work in a field in which nothing I do is so critical that it can't wait an hour. As a result of my upbringing, I know how to put down my screen(s) and enjoy face time with those I love. Do I tweet over lunch? Sometimes. Do I text with one person while talking to another? Occasionally. But when it matters, when it's more important for me to be in the room than online, I naturally put down the phone and pick up the conversation. That's how I was raised, no restrictions necessary.

I think the point of my response is to remind Ms. Turkle, and anyone else, that a photo, a Tweet, or a status update represent a moment in time and not the cumulative impact of the experience.

Does my selfie in front of a movie marquee lessen my enjoyment of the movie?
Nope.

Does my status update about my favorite musician's music being integrated into my favorite television show lessen my appreciation for either?
Not at all.

And does the picture of President Obama posing for a selfie with Prime Minister Cameron and Prime Minister Thorning-Schmidt represent the sum total of the president's experience at Nelson Mandela's Memorial Service?
Absolutely not.

No one but that individual can judge the impact of an experience. What our pictures and updates, texts and tweets, do is share that experience in the hopes to also share the impact. 

An expression of gratitude

Yesterday I launched my Etsy Store, Holly's Hobby. My store features jewelry made by a girl who loves glitter. It's a store dedicated to reminding people to always sparkle. 

Holly's Hobby is a line of jewelry that embraces run-down, broken, and forgotten jewelry and works to incorporate its parts into new, beautiful pieces. The dichotomy of old and new, reclaimed and repurposed, leads to unique works of which I am immeasurably proud. 

So yesterday I launched my store. 
And today I am overrun with gratitude. 

Thin slices of agate,
suspended by thin gold wires

I'm sitting here in my sparkly boots, my sparkly hat, and my sparkly pants (I did say I'm a girl who loves glitter), and I am deeply touched by the outpouring of love and support I've gotten from my friends and family. 

I don't know if you know how scary it is to take something you've made and launch it onto the internet where anyone with wifi can see, review, and comment on it. Doubts and insecurities ran through my mind as I got ready to hit "publish." 

Doubtful thoughts plagued me: 
What happens if no one likes your craft? 
What if your efforts, your time, your passion, are ignored? 
What if no one cares that you have decided to share your craft with them? 


So yesterday I launched my store. 
And today I am wrapping purchases and getting ready to ship them out. 

Purple quartz and slate,
finished with Swarovski crystal clasp

My projects launched on the internet yesterday. And my friends and my family immediately jumped in to support the launch. They liked the Facebook page. They favorited my Etsy store. They pinned my pieces. And they purchased my craft. I was - and still am - so overwhelmed each time a notification came up, telling me someone else had supported my work. 

Am I feeling validated? Sure. 
But, more importantly, I'm feeling loved. 
And I want to return that love. 

So thank you to the greatest friends and family a girl who loves glitter could possibly have. 

And to those of you who have already made a purchase (or are planning to), I want to thank you. Thank you so much for believing in me and my work. I hope you enjoy your gifts as much as I've enjoyed making them. 

Thank you so very much.

Merry Christmas. 
Happy New Years.


And above all else, don't forget to sparkle. 

Giving Tuesday, Giving Back

You've heard of Black Friday and Cyber Monday - two days for getting "good deals." Well, today, the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, is Giving Tuesday.

Giving Tuesday is a national movement, committed to hosting a dedicated day where people can give back to their favorite causes. Driven by social media, Giving Tuesday uses the power of the individual and collective voice to raise awareness and dollars for the transformative organizations in our community.

Today, in honor of Giving Tuesday, I am donating all of my social media to Girl Scouts of Central Indiana. Now I know what you're thinking: "Holly, you work for them. You have to."

True, I do work for Girl Scouts of Central Indiana and my job is to help raise money for the organization. However, that's not why I chose to donate my own networks. The reason is much greater.

I have been a Girl Scout for 26 years and am a Girl Scout Gold Award recipient. For those of you who don't know, the Girl Scout Gold Award is the highest honor a Girl Scout can achieve. The award teaches a girl to pursue her passions and translate those passions into action.

While I usually tell other girls' and women's Girl Scout stories, today I'd like to share my own Girl Scout Gold Award story with you.

When I was 13, my grandfather was in a serious car accident, which left him quadriplegic and placed him in a wheelchair for the rest of his life. I, along with the rest of my family, was irrevocably changed by this moment. I became hyperaware of handicap accessibility and disability awareness issues in my community. So much so, that I became a Program Aide through the Girl Scouts and traveled around our council teaching younger girls disability awareness.  

As I entered high school and it came time for me to select a Gold Award project, my grandfather's accident and the girls who I had taught about disability awareness were fresh in my mind. I was passionate about accessibility issues and youth development. So I merged the two passions into one project - a handicap-accessible play ground.

Over the next two years, I designed, secured funding for, and eventually (with lots of help) built a handicap accessible play ground. There are very few moments in my life that compare to the pride I felt as the final pieces of the playground were going in the ground. I was particularly excited about Pedro, a bouncing parrot spring animal.

Fifteen years later, my playground still stands and thousands of children have benefitted from its presence. It still warms my heart to see girls racing across the open meadow, to swing on the swings, glide on the glider, bounce on the spring animal, and test their coordination on a maze of steps.

My Girl Scout Gold Award helped me hone skills that have served me well into adulthood. My project taught me time management, problem solving, conflict resolution, and organization. The project coaxed me out of my introverted shell and enabled me to articulate my passion and the action necessary to act on that passion.

Today, I am a Girl Scout Gold Award advisor. I have had the honor of advising girls whose projects and passions have ranged from environmentalism to cancer research, hunger relief to teen suicide.

The impact each Girl Scout Gold Award recipient has on her community is a credit to her passion and to the program.

I am so proud to be a Girl Scout.

And I am so proud to support Girl Scouts of Central Indiana today on Giving Tuesday.

For-Profit or Non-Profit, It's All About Relationships

It's no secret that I work as a fundraising and public relations professional in Indianapolis. Google my name and you can easily find that information here, here, and here. Working where I do, I often hear how the non-profit sector needs to "elevate itself and start acting like a business, not just a charity." And while I agree with the some of the underlying implications of that statement, the condescension with which it is often delivered is less than palatable. 

A better conversation, I think, would be how sectors should be learning and borrowing best practices from one another. Yes, non-profits should be more aware of the value of their brand, should be more inclined towards long-term business development, and should be watching their bottom line. Duh. But let's take a minute to talk about for-profits. Perhaps they can take a page from the non-profit play book (forgive the sports metaphor - football season is upon us and I just can't help myself). Because while for-profits are incredible at understanding their intrinsic value, measured through sales, stock, brand equity, etc., non-profits are incredible at the personal touch. No one can tug at your heartstrings quite like the non-profit sector. 

The fundraising and PR department at my office has an oft-repeated saying: 

"It's all about relationships."

That statement, our fundraising mantra, is truer now than it has ever been before - for both non-profits and for-profits. Success today really is all about relationships. 

In the "good old days," relationships were developed with a phone call, a cup of coffee, and a handwritten note. They were formed at cocktail parties, family affairs, church functions, and fund raising events. It was all about having boots on the ground or a martini in your hand. Today, relationship development is all of those things and so much more. The increasing prevalence of electronic communications - particularly social media - has broadened customer reach past regional boundaries into a global realm. While we're still talking to our neighbors, family, friends, and colleagues about our work, we are also tweeting, emailing, Facebooking, etc. to a significantly larger audience. In fact our audience has gotten so large that there aren't enough coffees and cocktails to get us face-time with everyone. So we've had to redefine what relationship development look like. We've had to get creative. 

Here's a great example of creative customer engagement: 

The other day I opened my email and found my weekly home energy report from Indianapolis Power and Light. Being the competitive soul that I am, I love this new program from IPL. The report not only tells me how efficient my household is, but is also compares me to my 100 closest neighbors. Naturally, I've set out to "win" the home energy report every week and last week I did just that. My report told me I was the most efficient household of the 100 nearest households. 

Boom. I Win. Done. 

To celebrate my victory, I sent this tweet: 

My ridiculous tweet

Clearly this was not a scheduled tweet, nor was it a suggested promotional tweet written by IPL. The tweet was my competitive, self-congratulatory way of complimenting IPL on their new program while simultaneously smack-talking my neighbors. 

The next morning I noticed that IPL had started following me on Twitter. "Oh good," I thought, "they saw my tweet." And I really didn't give it any more thought.

Until today.

Today I came home from work to find a bulging manilla envelope propped against my front door. Curious, I ripped into it with all the glee of a sugar-buzzed seven-year-old at a birthday party (I love fun mail!). 

The handwritten note: still a classic for a reason

Imagine my surprise when out of the envelope fell a goodie bag from IPL, along with a handwritten note from the IPL Public Affairs department. 
As you can see, the note referenced the tweet I had sent and indicated the folks at IPL were happy to see that I liked their new program. They thanked me for being a good customer and reminded me to check out another cool program they had on their website. 

In this one card, IPL Public Affairs managed a personal message, a thank you, and a call-to-action. Perfection. While I expect this kind of note from some of the non-profits I philanthropically support, I would never have expected it from my electric company. This is remote relationship development done right. 

I love free stuff. 

So I'd like to take a minute to congratulate Indianapolis Power and Light on the growth and changes taking place in their public affairs department and encourage my fellow Indy residents to check out their new programs. IPL's customer engagement is evolving and improving, and it should be acknowledged.

And if you ever want to compete against me for most energy efficient home ever, all I have to say is: 

"Bring it." 

A Reclaimed Hobby for a Reclaimed Holly

Necklace with recycled beads, shells,
metal, with silver bar clasp

I'm lucky. I have a job that fulfills me, volunteer obligations that challenge me, and am playing host to a 25-pound anti-social cocker spaniel. But, while I'm busy, I don't have the same demands on my time some of you might. I don't have children. I'm not married. I do have an appreciable amount time on my hands. 

Last fall, I found myself with too much time alone with just me and my thoughts. For the sake of my mental health, I determined I needed to occupy that time with a creative outlet. 

For years my mother has lamented my general lack of artistic ability. In school, I was the girl who could spend eight weeks on her flower painting, only to have it turn out looking like a giant blue alien ship in a sea of green phalluses. My ceramics projects always looked like the work of a one-armed squirrel. I sew like a blind, speed-freak chinchilla. I end up making walrus tusks with knitting needles. 

Necklace with glass and copper beads
and silver bar clasp

You get the point. 

I am not an artist.

With 32 years of failed arts and crafts informing me, I approached my quest for a creative hobby with some serious trepidation. Was there something out there that would satisfy me creatively and appeal to my personality? 

Anyone who has known me for more than five minutes knows I love things that sparkle. Gold sequins infest my house like ants at a picnic. I have three, no four, pairs of sequined shoes. I have boxes of sparkly jewelry. I have a jar of glitter in my office supplies. I prefer sparkling wine. 

Bracelet with recycled wood and
agate beads and gold bar clasp

I. Like. Sparkles.

I also remember loving working with Swarovski crystals, freshwater pearls, and sterling silver at a jewelry-making class I took a few years ago. 

Aha! An idea. 

I can make jewelry. 

Excited about my new hobby, I headed to a craft store to pick up some supplies.  

Mistake. 

I walked into the craft store and just froze. Bathed in harsh fluorescent light and the noxious scent of 1 gabillion different DYI potpourri kits, I realized I was in over my head. I needed help. I needed an expert. 

I called my mom. 

Mom helped me navigate the terror that is the craft store and, thanks to her, I was able to make my first piece of jewelry. Followed by my second, my tenth, my...

You get it. 

Necklace with carved quartz pendant,
recycled coral and turquoise beads,
silver chain, and silver hook clasp

As I got more confident, I began to branch out. Why was I paying a ton of money for beads and clasps, when there are so many used materials out there ready to be... reclaimed! 

And thus, Holly's Reclaimed Hobby was born. 

Now, eight months later, I make jewelry that is a combination of new and old, recycled and reclaimed. I look in antique stores, thrift shops, and the jewelry boxes of friends and family for old pieces no one wants. Then I break them down to their basic elements and repurpose those elements into new jewelry. 

Necklace with wood pendant,
recycled ceramic and coral beads,
and silver claw clasp

I think the results are pretty wonderful. 

But I'll let you be the judge. 

You can find samples of my jewelry on Instagram, using the hashtag #hollyshobby. Of course, all the pictures in this post are also of things I've made. 

I guess the point of this post is to revisit and expand upon my Reclaiming Me idea. Reclaiming Me is all about devoting time in your busy life to you. A reclaimed moment is that one blissful moment when you aren't accountable to your job, your family, your friends, your volunteer obligations, your... 

Well, again, you get the point. 

A reclaimed moment is something you do simply for the joy of being you. 

Don't worry about finding the time. 

It's already there. 

Just worry about what you can do with it. 

Girls Just Want to Have Fun

Sometimes all your night needs is
some friends and half-price
drinks

I feel like my last few posts have been super serious - a divergence from my Reclaimed Self philosophy. Yes, I am still dealing with stress from work and from home. Yes, I am still dealing with lingering symptoms of PTSD. Yes, sometimes being Holly is hard. But when I stop and reflect, I realize something pretty incredible. 

Most of the time, being Holly is pretty damned amazing. 

Why? Well because I have a network of people around me who help me have fun. And, after all, sometimes the most important thing you can do is have fun. 

Our fabulous view

Tonight was a night for fun. My friend, Carrie, scored us some terrible seats to tonight's Pacers' game against the 76ers. But the view wasn't important. What was important is that I spent the past three hours laughing and leading a carefree existence. Half-price drinks at Kilroy's and a truly terrible basketball game made for a perfect recipe for unwinding and forgetting the troubles of the day. 

I firmly believe in the power of fun and the catharsis of laughter. I wish I laughed more than I do. But nights like tonight help me catch a glimpse of the less-serious, more outgoing person I could be. I like laughing Holly. I like outgoing Holly. She seems so much less fearful. So much less cautious. So much less reserved. Tonight's Holly is someone I should visit more often. 

The holy grail of the evening...

I like not having the pressures of work and my volunteer commitments weighing down on me. Tonight, my only goal was to secure a copy of a DVD from 2003 of Carrie dancing with the ENERGEE! - the Milwaukee Bucks' dance team. Supported by the texts and Facebook posts of friends and colleagues, I emerged triumphant (see photo). 

While I always like to win, the best part of this project was the fun it created for us at the game and through social media. Have you ever trash-talked a mascot? Not a team, a mascot? I'm not gonna lie, poor Bango took a verbal beating tonight. Have you ever had five complete strangers team up with you and work towards a common goal? It feels pretty great. And, if the end goal is something as awesome as a video of your friend with blonde hair, dancing for an NBA team, well all the better. 

I guess, what I am trying to say with this long island iced tea-fueled post is to not forget to appreciate the fun in your life. 

Seek laughter.
Seek camaraderie. 
Seek fun. 

I promise you, it's worth it. 

Running Out of Patients (puns intended)

The view from one of my beautiful 2012 training runs
Austin, TX is lovely in late January!

I don't usually use this blog as an outlet to vent my frustrations. After all, this blog really is all about trying to look on the bright side of life. However, I want to share an experience with you and perhaps garner some feedback. 
So here's my story: 

In February 2012 I was training for the 500 Festival Mini Marathon. I was running regularly and had worked my way up to about five miles a day. The more I ran, the more I noticed my legs were hurting, specifically my shins and my right knee. Knowing that shin splints are the plague of the common runner, I laid off for a few weeks, and iced and stretched on a daily basis. My shins continued to hurt. I couldn't walk across a room without them burning. And my knee would lock mid-stride. I couldn't pivot and I was reduced to wearing flats at all times. So I sought medical help. Three doctors, two physical therapists, and 24 sessions of physical therapy later, I was able to resume jogging. My legs were stronger, my leg muscles realigned, and my knee more stable. I was eager to put the whole ordeal behind me and get back to running, hiking, etc. 

Little did I know...

My poor legs after a particularly brutal PT
session. It hurts having your muscles
realigned!

Three months after my last physical therapy session, I received my first medical bill. All I could think was "oh shit, this can't be right." So I broke out my insurance book and reviewed my benefits. Low and behold, the bills weren't right. So I called the various hospitals and let them know I was having insurance resubmit the claims. Then I called my insurance company and explained the situation - basically I was being charged more than $2,000 over my maximum annual out of pocket expense. The woman on the phone with the insurance company was surly and rude and, frankly, pissed that she had to resubmit about 30 claims on my behalf. But, after 90 minutes on the phone with her, she finally made it happen. 

One month later, I received my updated bills. They were still wrong. I was still being charged above and beyond my maximum out of pocket. I once again called the hospitals and told them what was going on. I then called the insurance company and once again explained the situation. I was once again helped by an angry individual who seemed put out to have to rerun claims. But, after about 90 minutes, she made it happen. 

I went through this process twice more in 2012. 

Fast forward to 2013. We are now 14 months out from my initial doctor's visit and 11 months out from my final physical therapy session. I just got another set of medical bills. THEY STILL AREN'T CORRECT. 

At this point, all I can think is the system appears to be broken. 

To date, I have received six versions of my medical bills, - all for varying amounts - spent eight hours on the phone with my insurance company, and about six hours on the phone with hospitals. 

The lesson I've learned from this whole process is an unfortunate one. I've become reluctant to reach out to medical professionals when I'm sick because I'm afraid of the insurance process that will follow. This can't possibly be a good thing. Google should not be an alternative for a visit to my doctor. 

My most recent action has been to file a complaint with the State regarding my insurance company. Once again, I've spoken with the hospitals and let them know what is going on and they have, once again, put my payments on hold. Fingers crossed that someone, somewhere can make this situation better. 

I'd rather not depend on my Google M.D. for all my health care needs. 

A single moment

I am forever amazed how a single event can have a dramatic effect on a person's life. Positive, negative, major, or minor - our paths are determined by a series of moments. 

Here's one of my moments. 

Furry little hero

One evening last June I went to bed like any other night. It was a beautiful summer night so my windows were cracked. At about 3 a.m. I woke up to my dog - a 25 pound cocker spaniel - barking with all the ferocity and impetus of a doberman. Disoriented, I followed his eye line and found that a man had climbed onto the parked car outside my window, opened my screen, pushed my window open further, and was reaching into my bedroom. Startled and scared I yelled some incoherent, curse word-laden question at him. He grabbed my iPad, which I had carelessly left in plain sight and within reach of the open window, and started to run away. I continued to yell some very creative combinations of swear words at him, to which he turned around an responded, "what? I can't just have this?" He then turned back around and ran across our parking lot and into the night. I grabbed my phone and after several failed attempts was able to dial 911. I then ordered a remote wipe of my iPad and waited for the police. Not five minutes later, an officer was at my door. I answered her questions and provided a description as best I could, while I sat shaking on my living room floor, wrapped around my equally shaking dog. Once she left I looked around my now violated apartment and knew only one thing - I didn't feel safe.

In the following months my feelings of fear and insecurity continued. I was afraid of the dark. Closed spaces. Strangers. Open windows. Uncovered windows. iPads. Dogs barking. I couldn't do anything that deprived me of one of my senses. No earbuds. No shower curtains. No darkness. No loud music. No scary movies. I couldn't sit with my back to a door or a window.

Having been diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder (GAD) in 2006, I knew that what I was feeling and dealing with felt like amplified anxiety. None of the exercises I had learned to manage my anxiety were proving effective so I sought professional help. I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). Using a combination of therapeutic exercises, I have spent the past eight months working through my fears and my anxieties and I will continue to work through them. It took three months for me to sleep through the night in my apartment and longer still for me to be able to walk outside after dark. 

I still have fears that I didn't have eight months ago. My nerves sing whenever my dog barks. I have four night lights burning. I still cannot touch the windowsill that man touched. My hands are shaking as I type this post.

I know the event sounds insignificant and, in the grand scheme of things, it is. However, that one man and that one action had a profound impact on my life. I cannot express what it feels like to be simultaneously afraid of your home and afraid to leave your home. I can't say I'm better for this and I certainly wouldn't wish this experience on anyone, but I do know I am a changed person and that this moment will inform my actions for years to come. 

I'll be honest, this post is less about sharing with you and more about knowing that I am capable of sharing. I've had this post in my mind for months now and am finally at a point I can actually write it. I think it's important for people to know that anxiety is a very real and very debilitating condition. I also think it's important people know it's OK to talk about anxiety. If you or someone you know is dealing with anxiety, remember you don't have to do it alone. 


Here are a couple of resources for people living with anxiety:

• National Institute of Mental Health (NIMH)
• Indiana University Health - Behavioral Health

Remember: 

     Seek help. 

          Build a trusted network of support. 

               And don't be ashamed.