I was privileged recently to listen to a friend who was struggling through her emotions after finding out that her son had been sneaking out of the house. Why would I say that is a privilege? Because I consider it a moment of Providence when one person is able to connect to another through shared experience. As my friend told me the reason for her tears, I could feel several things - 1. the audible "thud" of my innermost parts when reminded of something not yet healed and 2. the specific and personal music of my own empathy from not just imagining what she must be feeling, but actually knowing it. This is usually where I start arguing with myself: "just listen...that's what she needs right now"; "Ooh! ooh! I know this one. I have something I can tell her"; "Shhhh - listen to her"; "but I really want to help". I would like to say that I am able to let these two unruly voices combine to make a great decision about how to be a good listener. This time, I hope I did okay. I don't know.
It's a conversation I would love to have over a table with some great food and drink: "what makes someone a good listener?"
Is it just listening? Anyone who knows me will attest to the truth that I can go on forever, because I tend to work through my world by thinking out-loud. So, if you're going to be a "good listener" for me, you'd better get your drink refilled 'cause we're going to be here awhile! I mean, it's great to have someone focused on you while you "let it all out". But is listening all there is to being a good listener? Sometimes I can see the tell-tale signs that I've taxed my listener's attention span, and I don't really blame them. Then, I feel regret for having brought my problems out in the open. The experts tell husbands, "sometimes your wife just needs you to listen. You don't have to fix everything!" But, often this approach just doesn't feel like enough. Problems need solutions, don't they?
What about giving advice? Its a show of concern and helpfulness, right? Especially, as I said earlier, if you have gone through a similar experience and truly have something to offer. I've had friends share great ideas that I never would have thought of without that other perspective, or comforting reassurance that I'm not the only one. And,at times I have been told by others that I said "just the right thing" to help them through their difficulty. Too many times, though, I walk away from listening opportunities and I know that I've said too much. It's one species of "conversational regret" that leaves me horrified at myself. You know what I'm talking about (and I hope you haven't been on the receiving end of this from me, but if you have, I'm so sorry) - it's when you are trying to pour your heart out about something, and at your first breath the listener says "oh my gosh, that same thing happened to me!" and then hijacks the whole conversation to tell you about it. You never get to finish sharing your pain, because you were derailed by the "helpful advice-giver". No, this isn't right either.
How about strategic questioning? I learned one time that everyone has the solution to their own difficulties, and they just need help bringing it out. I was attracted to that idea, because in the course of the training, I realized that what makes me a poor listener is that I tend to think I know what is best for others - and I absolutely don't. I was both humbled and liberated by this revelation. So, I have been on a mission to ask people better questions to help them bring out their own solutions. I really like this, but sometimes it backfires. Some people can feel like they are being interrogated by too many questions. Or they can become frustrated because the questions just confuse them even more. So, this listening strategy calls for some balance and ability to know when to back off. Some solutions just don't come easy...and some things in life just have to be gone through.
So, what do you think? What makes you feel listened to? How do you offer support by truly listening to another? I would love to get your input to this question...
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Friday, April 29, 2011
Honesty??
Billy Joel was right: honesty is a lonely word. I have my reasons for wanting honesty in my life Nothing good has ever come from the lack of it, in my experience. So, in my adult life (and thanks to a couple of Oprah shows) I have been working on being more honest with the people around me. I have to say, it hasn't produced the level of happiness I had hoped for.
A few years ago, I went through a period of realization about myself and the ways that I related to the world. It seems that your 30's are the typical time for this to happen. I realized that I learned as a child to alter myself in order to please others, and part of that was keeping quiet about what I really thought or felt. I can remember a conversation with my husband when we were dating. He loves to debate issues, and he finally got so frustrated with my passivity he said "don't you have an opinion at all?" At this point, he may be sorry he opened that door!
The process of becoming "my authentic self" has been wonderful, and painful, and interesting, and healing. But mostly it's been ugly. I mean, uncoordinated, goofy, bad-dancer-kind of ugly. It has been like trying on a new personality that doesn't even come close to fitting properly. But I love the idea of being an honest, authentic person so I press on. My husband has borne the brunt of my progress, but I think he might say that I've improved some. I don't blurt awkward things out quite as often. And I've realized that being honest doesn't always mean that I need to say something right at that moment. Sometimes it's better to think it over for a while before you speak about it. Sometimes it's not.
By far, the hardest part in this whole process is that I've discovered that other people don't really want you to be honest. And instinctively we know this, because we say things like, "can I be honest?" or "if I were going to be honest, I would say...". Case in point: women's clothing designers. I guess they assume that people who wear bargain clothing are more well-adjusted than those who wear high priced couture. 'Cause we all know that a size 6 at Saks 'aint no size 6. It costs a lot of money to be told what you want to hear! Back to conversations, though. Do our insecure announcements mean that everything else we say is dishonest and just this one time we're going to tell the truth?? Actually, what I think is that it's code for "I know you might not like this but..."or "I am pretty sure you are going to think I'm a jerk, but..."
Lately, I feel like honesty has been very lonely. There is sometimes a high price to pay for speaking your mind - even if you try to do it for the greater good. I find it impossible to get the timing right - to speak at a time when my emotions are not going to get the better of me, and the other person is ready to hear something they might not like. See, I've done a lot of self-improvement in this area, but I'm still not as good at it as I would like to be. I'll continue working on creating monastic-like calmness, and study up on just how to deliver conversational lines and read micro-expressions. But, Billy you hit the nail on the head when you wrote your song. Sometimes, despite my best efforts I end up lonely.
A few years ago, I went through a period of realization about myself and the ways that I related to the world. It seems that your 30's are the typical time for this to happen. I realized that I learned as a child to alter myself in order to please others, and part of that was keeping quiet about what I really thought or felt. I can remember a conversation with my husband when we were dating. He loves to debate issues, and he finally got so frustrated with my passivity he said "don't you have an opinion at all?" At this point, he may be sorry he opened that door!
The process of becoming "my authentic self" has been wonderful, and painful, and interesting, and healing. But mostly it's been ugly. I mean, uncoordinated, goofy, bad-dancer-kind of ugly. It has been like trying on a new personality that doesn't even come close to fitting properly. But I love the idea of being an honest, authentic person so I press on. My husband has borne the brunt of my progress, but I think he might say that I've improved some. I don't blurt awkward things out quite as often. And I've realized that being honest doesn't always mean that I need to say something right at that moment. Sometimes it's better to think it over for a while before you speak about it. Sometimes it's not.
By far, the hardest part in this whole process is that I've discovered that other people don't really want you to be honest. And instinctively we know this, because we say things like, "can I be honest?" or "if I were going to be honest, I would say...". Case in point: women's clothing designers. I guess they assume that people who wear bargain clothing are more well-adjusted than those who wear high priced couture. 'Cause we all know that a size 6 at Saks 'aint no size 6. It costs a lot of money to be told what you want to hear! Back to conversations, though. Do our insecure announcements mean that everything else we say is dishonest and just this one time we're going to tell the truth?? Actually, what I think is that it's code for "I know you might not like this but..."or "I am pretty sure you are going to think I'm a jerk, but..."
Lately, I feel like honesty has been very lonely. There is sometimes a high price to pay for speaking your mind - even if you try to do it for the greater good. I find it impossible to get the timing right - to speak at a time when my emotions are not going to get the better of me, and the other person is ready to hear something they might not like. See, I've done a lot of self-improvement in this area, but I'm still not as good at it as I would like to be. I'll continue working on creating monastic-like calmness, and study up on just how to deliver conversational lines and read micro-expressions. But, Billy you hit the nail on the head when you wrote your song. Sometimes, despite my best efforts I end up lonely.
Wednesday, April 13, 2011
Eight Minute Wisdom
Well - that might have been an ambitious title. Actually, I only have eight minutes before the oven timer will go off, so i thought I would keep a promise to myself and "just write". Here's my wisdom for today: when you wake up two hours before the alarm, and can't go back to sleep, you should probably get up because God probably has something He wants to talk to you about. Only, (and here's the wisdom) it's probably not a good idea to decide to get "good and awake" by checking email, facebook, and random www sites concerning the latest body weirdness that is going on. Sorry, Father...I squirreled around too long, and now I have to get ready for work. Is there any way you could tell me what you had on Your mind during the day today?? (I'm hearing the phrase "not likely" in my mind...) Will you call me again tomorrow?
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