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Listening with
the Heart
Upstairs in our house
is where we most often dream, pray, and pillow talk, hopefully
at our best. Although fulfilling, those activities are
not always easy. One struggle for me is in the relationship
with my significant other, known from hereon as MoJoe
(yes, he's got the mojo!), particularly, learning to listen
better. I mean, aren't relationships dependent on mostly
on how we communicate?
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And when our
relationship is in trouble, me pouting, MoJoe spouting, doesn't
it always trace back to a conversation or two when one or both
of us was holding forth to "make our case" and not
being a bit interested in the other person's?
| Trust me,
we've been married a lot of years-no, I'm not saying but
there is some shiny metal in our rearview mirror of anniversaries-and
I can say we've often caught ourselves in the "outgoing"
mode instead of the "incoming." Sure, it's only
natural when you desperately want someone to agree with
you, take your side, love you better or simply hear you
out: you get into a conversation even about little things,
and find yourself planning what you're going to say next
when the other dude is talking. Or, you check your watch
and see how much longer you can give him-oops, her, based
on what you have on the stove or what errand is waiting
for you. |
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And isn't
it frustrating when you see your listener glance away, or tap
their fingers on something or simply walk into the other room-while
you're making your best point, or trying to explain how you
feel. Hearing the words but not the person is the biggest downfall
in couple communications-I'd bet on it.
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I remember
one couple who passed around an Indian rainstick, like they
do in some Native American tribes at pow-wows, to indicate
who had the floor. The one who didn't have the floor was
expected to put his/her all into listening, listening hard,
so that eventually all sides could be heard, considered,
and come together in one spirit.
Not a bad idea, unless they fight over the rainstick!
We don't have a rainstick, well, I admit, we once ordered
one hoping for magic, but for us it was more necessary to
remind ourselves of a few simple "To-Do's" during
our conversations, fun and pleasant ones, as well as angry
and unpleasant ones. |
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First,
we try, and don't always succeed, I admit, to stay eyeball-to-eyeball
when we're having a chat, one reason we don't rely much
on cell phones, texting, or other distance communication
except in "emergencies." |
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Second,
and the only exception to the above, once in a while, we
leave a fond note for the other, under a coffee mug or on
the dashboard. It's not to be a note of recrimination or
just a reminder to buy the milk, but definitely a love letter
in miniature. Don't scoff-it's especially nice to be the
receiver. |
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Third,
we try to remind ourselves to stop preparing our retort
or planning dinner when the other one is speaking. This
is his/her time, and you've probably noticed how the atmosphere
changes when someone feels your attention on them. |
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Fourth,
if it's one of those difficult conversations, on a sensitive
subject like, say, God, sex, money or death, it doesn't
hurt to connect physically-make yourselves hold hands, or
one place a hand on the other's arm-while hashing it out
(respectfully) until a peace accord is reached. |
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And
finally, and most of all, we try hard (sometimes!) to
listen with heart. What do I mean by that? |
An example might help. One topic I don't particularly enjoy
listening to (again) is MoJoe's war stories. I mean, I know
them by heart, and as interesting as they were the first 49
times, the ratings since have dropped, and I admit I haven't
been very kind in my responses lately when I hear the opener,
"I remember once in the service…".
But the other day, sitting with a small group of friends, I
found myself struck with how intently he was telling one of
those war stories to folks who'd never heard them. They were
caught up in it, and he must have felt their interest. His eyes
sparkled, his hands moved expressively, he made us laugh and
then almost cry.
I was
riveted on him, and the person he is, behind the story,
and in the telling of it. It was a little blessing moment,
when I knew why the years have added up in our rearview
mirror. Even without planning to, I guess I had been listening
with my heart.
And I'm the one who gained the most, because what I heard
was music to my ears.
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