Photo: Nadine Shaabana 

STOP

Sad to say, sometimes being shy and soft-spoken does not earn respect.  Trust me, I know.  I'm not a forceful, in-your-face kind of person.  When I have an opinion, I speak up quietly.  So, at times this gentle approach can be easy to dismiss and brush-off.

One time during my French class, several students discussed (in French) whether the Impressionist composers were influenced by the Impressionist artists.  Being familiar with the topic, I tried to voice my opinion and referred to the handout our instructor had given us, which stated that the Impressionist composers had been thought to be influenced by the art of the time.

Unfortunately, a fellow classmate got off track and started talking about the Romantic composers.  The Romantic composers created music in the early to mid-1800s, well before the birth of Impressionism.  The Impressionist composers created music toward the end of the 1800s and these musicians focused on mood and atmosphere much like the Impressionist artists.  

As much as I tried to steer the discussion back the Impressionist composers, this classmate ignored my comments and insisted that the Romantic composers were influenced by the Impressionist art.  It was as if he had said STOP, I don't give a rat's ass what you are saying, I'm not going to listen to you.  And in my head, I'm thinking, just because I'm soft-spoken doesn't mean I should be treated disrespectfully.  It was hurtful, but eye-opening.  In hindsight, I should have said:  "Lisez."  Read.  All he had to do was read the handout if he wanted to understand.

Maybe you're thinking: buck up Mrv.  Be more convincing, more forceful in stating an opinion.  But in this case, it was useless in trying to clear up the confusion.  This student only wanted attention.

It's not worth the energy to interact with people who enjoy being center stage.  What it really comes down to is, they have little self-awareness, because if they did, they'd see themselves as know-it-alls who really know nothing at all.  They simply are not interested in what others might have to tell them because they believe that they already have the information.

                                                                                                      Photo: Priscilla Du Preez 

Unfortunately, the same thing happens with a few of my mentees.  Sometimes when I give advice on submitting a manuscript, they brush my suggestions aside.  It doesn't matter to them if I have experience querying agents and having a book published.  They think they know better.  Then, these writers email me several weeks later wondering why they were rejected.

So, my first question to them is:  okay then, did you follow the guidelines?  Of course, they say yes which drives me crazy when I know that they haven't.  How do I know?  Some of my mentees submit to my publisher and I am aware of her specific requirements. When I ask them what they submitted, I find out they didn't include illustrations, which are mandatory for this publisher.  Still, they are in denial because they feel they couldn't have possibly screwed up.

Now, on the other hand...

Some people are earnest and they sincerely want to discuss a topic.  They want clarification.  They want to understand.  They may even want to apply what they learned.

One evening after ballet class, a fellow dancer confided in me that she had a hard time remembering the sequence of steps at the barre.  When the class does barre, we perform a combination of steps in a particular order to a piece of music.  It's mentally and physically challenging.  There can be a lot to think about and keep straight.  Otherwise, you may find yourself pointing your toes to the front when everybody else is pointing their toes to the rear, or rising on your toes when everyone else is doing a plié (a deep knee bend), or...well, you get the picture.

I have trouble remembering the steps at the barre, too.  So, what I do is count the number of each ballet movement in a sequence.  A combination may have two pliés, a grand plié, three tendues, and four rond de jambes, and an elevé so I focus on the numerical values:  two, one, three, four and one for this sequence.  When I explained this little trick, her eyes lit up.  She told me she liked this idea and that she appreciated learning a technique that had the potential to make the barre easier for her.

It's not often that I encounter (dare I say, stubborn) people who ask questions, but resist assistance.  When these circumstances arise, I think of my mother-in-law.  Years ago, she used to say, "What are you going to do?"

The answer is:  nothing.  Nothing will change close-minded people.

Luckily, most of my classmates and mentees are open to discussion.  They don't take offense when an opposing view is offered.  They enjoy hearing helpful opinions and suggestions.  Best of all, they are respectful.  And they listen...

even when I'm shy and soft-spoken.

✌ and ♥

FIVE CONFESSIONS


Confession #1:  I adopted a stray cat.

When I take breaks from marketing, blogging, writing articles, and editing manuscripts, I'm on the lookout for Putty; and if he is waiting by the deck door, I'll feed him a dish of cat food.  I've known this adorable stray for almost seven years.  By the grey in the black spots of his coat, he's probably twelve-years old or older.  Many years ago when he first wandered into our backyard, he was skittish.  Over time, he learned to trust me and would come to me when I called him.

Putty used to sit on the deck next to our first cat Ollie (separated by a screen door).  They were buds.  On the day we had to put Ollie down, Putty stayed on the deck.  It was as if he could sense he would never see Ollie again.  Losing my first pet was devastating.  I've never owned a cat before, and seeing him get sick and waste away killed me.  When Ollie was gone, the house seemed so quiet, so cat-less.  Putty still came around even after we buried Ollie.

Confession # 2:  I swore I'd never get another cat.

Three months later, we adopted Ozzie.  I wasn't sure how Ozzie would react to Putty.  But since Ozzie's territory is inside and Putty's is outside, they get along swell as long as they are separated by the screen door.  Putty loves to lounge on our his deck.

Mornings at the Mrvos household are fairly routine.  I feed Ozzie and then if Putty is on the deck, I set out food for him, well before I toast my bagel or have a sip of coffee.  My furry friends come first.  But one morning when Putty was enjoying his breakfast, a large orange tomcat sneaked up and tackled him.  The yowling was awful.  Luckily, I was able to chase the intruder away, but it looked like he may have harmed Putty.

After the fight, tufts of Putty's white fur stuck to the deck.  Miraculously, there wasn't a trace of blood.  Putty leaped off the deck and lingered nearby on our neighbor's driveway, frozen and stunned.  I wanted to reassure him that everything would be okay.

Confession # 3:  I pined for Putty.

But Putty didn't come when I called him.  He ran away.  I couldn't blame him.  He comes to our house because he'll find shelter (a shady patio when it's hot and a heated cathouse when it's cold), food around the clock, and love (he lets me rub his coat and pat his head).

For weeks after the attack, Ozzie still waited at the screen door for his buddy to come back.  He seemed more hopeful than me, though any time I was in the kitchen, I'd peer out onto the deck expecting to see my little stray press his sweet face against the glass door.

And then one day Putty came back.  Like nothing had happened.  Maybe...

1. he forgot about being attacked
2. he was hungry
3. he missed me

If you guessed #2, you are correct.

Confession #4:  I fed other strays.

Leaving cat food on the deck was not smart.  It was an invitation for other strays to dine at the Mrvs'.  And this included the orange tomcat.  Though at the time he started to lurk around the deck, I didn't have the slightly clue he would be so aggressive.  Since this big cat only stopped by at night, I never dreamed he'd come around at daylight.  Wrong.  A stray will come a begging any time of the day or night. Lesson learned.

Now, I set out food only when Putty is present.  I watch over him while he eats to make sure no other cat sneaks up on him.  I resist feeding the other strays.  Though seeing them wander through our yard makes me feel sad, but I can't take the chance of one hurting Putty.

Confession #5:  I adore Putty.

Now that's it's warmer, we placed our furniture on the deck and Putty comes by more often.  He sleeps on one of the chairs.  That makes me feel better, too, because he has a better chance of spotting a cat that may wander to the deck.

I could never turn Putty away or be mean to him.  He's so cute, plus life has got to be tough for him.  He's susceptible to scrapes, scratches, and sores.  And he must deal with all kinds of weather conditions, find shelter and food, and fend off vicious feral cats.  So, that is why there will always be a special place in my heart for Putty.  I confess, he's like a second pet.

And that means in the morning he will have a dish of food (premium wet cat food just like Ozzie) even seconds, well before my first sip of coffee.

✌ and ♥