In January I suggested that this would be my year of learning.  I thought it might be becoming conversational in Italian and learning to debone a chicken.

Little did I know what I had to learn.

In early March my mother was hospitalized and diagnosed with an aggressive form of lymphoma.  She came home for a few days, returned to the hospital when she began bleeding internally and never returned home again.  March was spent at the hospital, April in Hospice and May in a private caregiver home where she died.

When my mother fell ill, that meant my adult brother with autism had no caregiver.  I had been nagging my Mom to find him a group home or similar living situation since my father died in 2002, but she wouldn't talk about it and did little about it.  So I traded off staying with him in Indiana with my nephew and began working on getting him settled elsewhere.  (See more on this at my other blog.)

If there's one thing that's consistent about illness and dying, it's waiting.  Waiting for test results. Waiting for doctors.  Waiting to be released from one place and admitted to another.  Waiting for death.

And everything is on somebody else's timetable.

Which leads me to what I needed to learn - patience.

I couldn't make things move faster to place my brother in a supported living situation. I couldn't move my mother's doctor to a quicker decision on her care, even though she wanted to go to Hospice to die and he was resisting. When I knew my brother had a move date, I couldn't make time move faster.   

But what I learned to do was accept that there were situations I could control and manage and those I could not.  And to stop worrying and fretting about what was clearly out of my control.

That made all the difference.

Giving it up and letting it go, and letting what's going to happen happen when it's going to happen.

Now, I haven't turned into some sort of Zen goddess who seeks balance and lets the universe have its way.  I'm frustrated by others' tardiness. I can't sit still in a traffic jam without looking for an escape route to go around traffic.  I'll still move to a different checkout lane if I think my prospects are better elsewhere.  

But I've learned that some things won't move faster if I fret and time won't accelerate just because I worry.

So this is my year of living patiently.  It wasn't the year I expected, but it's the one I've got. 

Last year was my year of living boldly.  Each month I committed to do something that that scared me a little - whether it was volunteering to do something I'd never done before or overcoming my fears to do something I had been afraid to do for years (and every fiber of my being told me to stay put and take the safe and easy way.)   My blogs were another sign of my year of living boldly - writing in my own voice about what I want to talk about rather than just blogging on others' behalf.

The results?  I survived, thrived and learned a little along the way.

So I start 2011 with a question about how I should try to live this year. Healthfully is an obvious choice, but even though my sweet tooth and love for food makes it a challenge, it's not something that will require major growth or effort. I'm tempted to make this my year of living by giving, devoting more time, money and energy to the causes I believe in passionately. 

It might be my year of living to extremes, pushing my body and mind in new directions.  Or perhaps my year of living fictionally, revisiting old favorites and exploring new authors.

I just finished Pat Conroy's book, "A Reading Life."  In this work he talks about the teachers, editors, authors, poets and others who inspired him as a writer and reader. One of the most interesting pieces was about a high school teacher who advised his students to read 100 specific books before leaving high school. Whether you like Conroy or not, this book makes clear his passion for the written word and what drives him as a writer.  I finished the book with a list of works I want to read or reread to see what I've missed (or missed the first time around.)

This book got me thinking about how we grow and are inspired as adults.  How many of us set out over the course of a year or so to expose ourselves to different works of art, bands or composers of music, cultures or foods?  Or do we stick with what we know and like? 

It's so easy to continue with what's easy and familiar.  But in doing so we stop learning and growing.

Perhaps 2011 will be my year of learning.  Maybe it's a new language.  This could be the year I learn to make a decent pie crust rather than unfolding one out of a box. Or perhaps I'll take a class in watercolors to unleash my inner impressionist.

It's only the third day of the year.  I have time to figure out what I want - or need - to learn.

A bear of little brain can teach you a lot about communicating better.

In Winnie the Pooh, A.A. Milne created a character with boundless optimism, infinite good cheer and the ability to find common ground with anyone from a dictatorial rabbit to a timid yet brave young pig.

Pooh keeps things simple and finds common ideas.

“It is more fun to talk with someone who doesn't use long, difficult words but rather short, easy words like "What about lunch?"”

He realized that communicating effectively with someone means understanding where they come from.

   “You can't stay in your corner of the forest waiting for others to come to you. You have to go to them sometimes.”

Pooh knows that you need to let your message be absorbed and accepted.

"If the person you are talking to doesn't appear to be listening, be patient.  It may simply be that he has a small piece of fluff in his ear."

Finally, communications, like bears of very little brain, don't have to be perfect to be perfectly effective.

"You can't help respecting anybody who can spell Tuesday, even if he doesn't spell it right; but spelling isn't everything. There are days when spelling Tuesday simply doesn't count.”

Now that Thanksgiving is past, it's only a matter of time to the start of what I like to call the grafting season.

In the coming weeks and months we'll see various gifts coming to our office from vendors thanking us for our business throughout the year. 

Saying thanks is a good thing.  And food is generally welcome, especially goodies that can be put out and shared by everyone. 

But imagine if even a quarter of the money spent on overpriced gift baskets and jarred nuts and decorated cookies were given to charities that help make the holidays brighter for people in need?  The power of such an act would be staggering, helping potentially millions of people.

I know several companies that give back instead of gifting, and I appreciate and respect their efforts. While I like caramel corn as much as the next person, I like the thought of people who might otherwise not have anything to eat sitting down to dinner even better.

Need ideas?  Your local United Way agency can help steer you toward charities that desperately need your help.  In West Michigan, Kids Food Basket will make sure kids who rely on school lunches for their major meal each day don't go hungry during Christmas break.  North Kent Community Services provides food, clothing and other support to people struggling to get by. The YWCA provides shelter to women and children fleeing domestic violence.

It isn't hard to find an organization that needs help.  It's not as easy as ordering gift baskets, but it's worth the effort.

Because when you have an opportunity to say thanks and give someone a reason to be thankful, you're not just celebrating the season but creating joy.

And who wouldn't want to do that this holiday season?

Few people, if asked, would say that they don't want to give to organizations that make a difference.

Even fewer would say they don't want to give more than they do today.

But giving might mean giving up something else - whether it's cutting back on lattes or giving up "Gossip Girl."

I recently read an interview with the founder of microlending web site Kiva, who said the biggest competition to Kiva isn't other non-profits vying for dollars.  Instead, he cited Facebook games like Farmville and Mafia Wars as pulling people's time, attention and money away from causes that matter.

Giving of your time or money, for most of us with limits on both, often means making a conscious decision.  If you decide to give to more organizations, you might be forced to give less to each.  Or you may decide to not support one organization so you can give to another.  

And it might mean cutting back on something you want but don't need so you can give to something greater. 

In some ways, giving money is much easier than giving time.  Because when you give your time, you pull yourself away from something - or someone - else.

One way to get around choosing between volunteering and your family and friends is to combine the two - volunteer as a family or as an outing with friends.  There's strength in numbers and most organizations welcome group volunteer gigs.

You may think you don't have much time to give, but you probably do.  Think of the time that flies by while you watch television - time that could be spent helping your child's teacher by prepping projects or writing a newsletter article for an organization near to your heart.

Don't know how or where to start?  Pick up the phone.  Drop by a food shelter.  Reach out and you'll find most organizations will welcome you in.

But whether you give your time or your hard-earned money, give mindfully.  Choose organizations that matter to you and that make a difference in the world around you. 

And teach your children that giving is part of living, regardless of how much or how little you have to give.   

I'm not a born networker.

I'm the kind of person who goes to an event and likes to hang with the people she came with.  I can't say I'm a master at working a room, but I can work a few corners. 

I have the deepest respect for those who do it well. I had a former boss who would pretty much ditch me at an event to work the room.  I wouldn't see him until I was jingling the car keys to let him know it was time to go.  He would have met at least half the people in the room and walked out with a stack of business cards and ideas.

I was reminded of him last week when I was part of a panel for a local networking organization.  The group, GRAPE (Grand Rapids Area Professionals for Excellence) had me, a local television reporter, a lawyer for a major retailer and the CEO of a tech firm talk about social media and crisis management.

It was a great group - upbeat and engaged. But what really impressed me about this group was the way they networked before, during and after the event. I felt like a novice among them.

I got quite a few e-mail and LinkedIn messages before the event from people I'd never met, letting me know they were attending the presentation and introducing themselves. Others let me know about projects they were working on and asked whether I could provide any insights or leads. At the event most came up and introduced themselves so I could match a name to a face.  Others started following me on Twitter and DM'd me that they'd see me at the event.

I met about a dozen more at the event.  When I got back to my desk I found either a follow-up e-mail or LinkedIn invitation from most of them. 

One called after the event with a question about something I'd said, and then segued into a conversation about who buys ad space at my company.  And many Tweeted, reaching out in 140 characters or fewer. 

Twitter has transformed networking.  I don't need to meet you to get to know you.  I can (and do) follow a number of people I admire and respect. I've had Twitter conversations with chefs whose cookbooks sit upon my shelves, with thought leaders in social media, and with the host of a new cable television show. (I asked her what it was like to move from radio to TV and she was more than happy to tell me.)  

You might say I've expanded beyond the corners and have started, in a small way, to work the room.

I've had a LinkedIn account for about six years now.

When I first signed up, I didn't know what it was or why I would use it.  A consultant I was working with had one and encouraged me to give it a try.

Since then, I've used it to stay in touch with various colleagues from my past and present.  But I've also seen LinkedIn used and abused and offer the following advice for anyone hoping to use it for fun or profit.

Be connected.  If you approach me with the invitation, "You're in PR.  I'm in PR! Let's be connections!"  I'm going to refuse.  If you send me a message saying we're not connected today but you'd like to do business with me tomorrow, I'm going to ignore you.

LinkedIn was designed to help people leverage their connections and tap into the connections of others.  For that reason, I limit my connections to people I have some relationship with - actual or virtual.   So it doesn't matter if we share a zip code, alma mater or group.  If I haven't gotten to know you - even briefly - I'm not going to connect with you. 

Protect your connections.  A LinkedIn connection has value. Today's connection might be tomorrow's employer, employee, client or resource.  For that reason, don't let your connections be victims of mass appeals or pitches.  Try to engage connections who might be able to help each other - a vendor who can fill a need or a promising candidate for a connection's open position.  Be a matchmaker, not a shill.

Use your connections.  Even if you aren't selling anything, looking for a job or looking to hire someone or some thing, use your network.  Ask them advice.  Solicit their ideas.  Share something interesting.  You might be surprised who's interested in the same things you are.

Share with your connections.   Use the network update feature to share what you're doing or working on.  This keeps you top-of-mind with your connections and may help you connect in new ways.  You may have a problem or challenge a connection may help you solve.  You'll never know unless you share.

But keep it business appropriate.  LinkedIn isn't Facebook or Mixi.  This isn't the place to brag about your kids or talk about your dog. 

Unless of course, your business involves children or canines. 

I've lived by three rules of engagement with co-workers my entire career.

I don't swim with co-workers.  Really, do you want to see the person in the cube across from you in a Speedo or tankini?  I thought not. 

I don't dance with co-workers.  When you're in a situation where there's dancing with co-workers involved, you're learning more than you want or need to know about them.  

I don't, nor do I allow co-workers, to stand on office furniture.  Does anyone really think any good will come out of standing on a chair that spins and rolls?

But now I find myself adding a fourth rule, because social media has dictated some new rules of engagement with co-workers.

The rule is simple.  If I don't really like you, I'm not going to make you my Facebook friend.

I may connect with you on LinkedIn as a colleague or business aquaintance, and of course you're free to follow me and I'm free to reciprocate on Twitter. But I view Facebook differently than other social media.  

Perhaps it's the definition of friend.  I generally like those I call friends.  I may not like everything about them (and they probably feel the same about me), but I appreciate them and enjoy their actual or virtual company.

So if I don't like someone, I'm clicking "ignore."  If I don't like something a potential "friend" has done to a friend of mine, we're not going to be friends on Facebook or anywhere else.  If you were a jerk to me in high school, don't think we're going to be buds decades later.  And if you broke my best friend's heart in college, forget about it - you're dead to me.

The beauty of the ignore button on Facebook is that the request simply disappears.  The potential friend doesn't know they've been intentionally banned - they just think you haven't responded.  It's a humane form of rejection.

And this makes it the easiest of my rules, because I can enforce or apply it without anyone really knowing.  It's worth adding a fourth rule to the roster. 

I've been a room Mom in my children's classrooms for years.

But it hasn't been easy.

The past two years I "co-Momed" with another parent who didn't like the planning but didn't mind calling parents and assigning them tasks.  I would much rather research holiday party ideas and propose some options than spend hours on the phone, so it was a perfect match.  Even so, there was always confusion about who was bringing what and you never really knew what was going to happen until the day of the class Halloween party - when you wound up with 50 cupcakes and nothing to drink because  people got confused about what they were to bring. 

But there's a new resource that makes being a room Mom or any other organizer easier than ever - VolunteerSpot.  This nifty tool helps you organize anything from a neighborhood clean up to a Girl Scout meeting to who's bringing snacks for next month's soccer games.  The site makes it easy for an organizer to communicate a need and for volunteers to make a commitment to help.  There are even follow-up note and reminder tools so it's clear who's doing what and when they're doing it.

I met VolunteerSpot founder Karen Bantuveris at BlogHer10 and was intrigued by her story and the site.   

Intrigued enough to give it a try for an upcoming event I'm planning.  And maybe inspired enough to be a room Mom for one more year.

It's my last year in elementary school - or rather, the last year I have a child in elementary school.    Maybe with a little help, I'll give it another try.

I always got picked last for dodgeball.

I was small and fast and hard to hit.  But I couldn't launch the ball like a rocket and take out a member of the opposing team.  I threw like a girl.  I still do.

So I felt a bit of that seventh grade angst last week at BlogHer10 when I realized a lot of what happened was off the agenda - lots of parties and special events for a select few.  Some bloggers described this as not being picked for a sorority and watching all the sisters head off to parties. 

That may be true.  But don't blame BlogHer.  Blame the corporations who poached BlogHer attendees for their own events.  

In the interest of full disclosure, I need to share that I'm a corporate blogger by day - blogger outreach is part of my job.  Part of the reason I was at  BlogHer10 was to determine if my company should have a presence next year.  But back to my story.

If you were following #BlogHer10 on Twitter last weekend, you could get a pretty good recap of the major parties that were going on but weren't on the conference agenda.  I won't name brands but they were big companies throwing lavish affairs that featured boldfaced name entertainment or hosts.

Now, no one could argue with the companies that hosted events outside of the conference agenda.  But some companies hosted events that competed with sessions. 

The turnout for the Saturday morning keynote featuring the international activist bloggers was pathetic.  Lots of empty tables in a ballroom that was packed the morning before.

One reason for the sparse attendance?  Brand events elsewhere. Other Tweets referenced bloggers being in hair and makeup for video shoots for other companies.  Really?  Couldn't spare the time to hear the stories of women who put their lives at risk to share the stories of the tortured and oppressed? 

Don't get me wrong - corporate sponsors of BlogHer should be supported.  They help keep individual ticket prices down so let them know you appreciate their support -  visit their booths, stop by their suites and thank them for making the event affordable.  If you didn't do that while you were in New York, consider sending them an e-mail or a Tweet in appreciation. 

But the brands that sponsored events off the agenda (off the grid so to speak) weren't supporting BlogHer.  They were taking advantage of the audience BlogHer built.

Smart marketing, perhaps.  But it feels like poaching to me.

And a little like getting picked last for dodgeball.