Speaking of love...

 I've wanted to become a better listener for quite a while. Sometimes I feel that I am moving in that direction, but often I feel that I've blown it. Especially after a heated discussion with my husband, where all I really wanted was to win the argument and have him concede and admit I'm right. How unrealistic and unhelpful is that? Especially since I've heard several times that, in marriage, it's either WIN-WIN or LOSE-LOSE when it comes to working through issues together. There is no WIN-LOSE in a loving relationship. 

Recently I read several articles on ways to become a better listener. Some were focused at home, parent to child, but I realized, in fact, that these points related to the relationship between spouses as well. Most of them are not profound, but I do believe we often miss them in our conversations. I'm still aspiring to make these habits! 

Stop. (put down your phone, turn off the TV, put down the book, stop cooking, etc.)  Look. Listen. Look your partner in the eye when they are talking to you. I've read that the best way to work through a disagreement is to sit facing each other, knees touching and holding hands. Yikes! That's pretty tough when you're seething with anger at a perceived injustice. I'm sure, though, that if both parties were putting effort into reconciliation, it would work. 

Zip the lip. Listen, listen, listen. Speaking too soon cuts off the communication. 

Tell back what you heard your partner say, without judgment. This tells that you are really listening and not rehearsing a feisty comeback. 

Ask open-ended questions, ones that don't require a YES or NO as an answer. No judgments. Don't try to direct their thinking. 

When it's your turn to respond, speak from your own experience. Speak in "I" sentences, not "You" ones. Reiterate that you are a team, it's not 'me against you', it's US against the specific problem that has come up. 

And, of course, there are many other ways to practice being a better listener? Do you have any tried and true? 

Photo by Vincent van Zalinge on Unsplash

“Being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.”  David Augsburger

 

Listen

Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.
Simone Weil

I've been part of a study group for several weeks now where we are sharing our stories with each other. The rules are to sit, listen, and let each other share what we want to or need to. No judgments, no fixing, no advice, no interrupting. Then we thank each other for sharing the hard parts of our lives.

I wish I could transfer the way I pay attention in this group, to how I listen to my own family and other friends. It seems hard to simply listen. More often than not, I'm partly listening (it might LOOK like I am fully listening) and partly formulating my response to what I'm hearing. But what would it be like to really listen and then pause before I replied?  What would it be like to make it my goal to value the other's words and need to be heard more than valuing my need to be heard, to have my opinions validated, advice accepted, and my needs met?

I messed up again today. I caught myself and did my best to listen and validate.
 "It must be really hard", I said.
"Yes", she replied, "very hard".
I may not have agreed with how she was handling this difficult situation, but if she wasn't asking for advice, it was better for me to simply listen. To be generous by saying nothing.

Not so simple. But so important.

THAT Kind of Dad

Growing up in our family, 'Because I said so' was a phrase I don't think I ever heard coming from my dad.

 Because he was THAT kind of dad. 

He was not a dad to fear, although I had a healthy respect for him. And he demonstrated respect for his seven children, too. I think that's what made him such a wonderful dad.  He was a man of few words, but his actions spoke volumes.

Most of my teen years were spent on our small family- owned mushroom farm in the Fraser Valley. Dad wanted our input on what to call this new venture (we chose Meadowview Mushroom Farms) and while my dad and oldest brother ran the farm, all the other older children and my mom helped to make it work, too.

When Dad first bought the farm, he couldn't afford to hire too many people, so we worked A LOT! After school, weekends, and sometimes even during school. Sometimes we worked well into the wee hours of the morning, picking mushrooms at their prime. If not, they would 'open' and be relegated to 'second grade' and we wouldn't be getting top dollar for them. My dad couldn't afford to pay us for our work that first year, but when that second year rolled around, he asked each of us what we would like to have as a thank you for all the help we had given him. I asked for a horse. And I got one.

He was THAT kind of dad. 

When I graduated high school, I decided to work full time for Dad for one year before going on to university. Why wouldn't I want to work for my dad? He was the BEST BOSS EVER. And my mom made our coffee breaks the best, too! (coffee, cookies, and conversation in the kitchen twice a day! )

By that time I had been working part time for several years, and making decent money, too.

He was THAT kind of dad. 

He had hired a crew by then, including a couple of my girlfriends. One day Dad told me he had decided that paying us by the pound, rather than an hourly wage, might be a better way to go and would perhaps increase productivity. My girlfriends and I didn't like that idea one bit, for several reasons. It would increase competition between us (fighting for the most loaded mushroom beds, for one) and take away from the joy of working together. So, we promptly formed a 'union' (in jest), ordered matching bright yellow T shirts with a huge mushroom decal on the front and the words:  I must be a mushroom...everyone keeps me in the dark and feeds me B.S.  It's true! We really did this and my dad got a good laugh out of it. We presented my dad with reasons why getting paid by the lb. wasn't really a good idea at all. And Dad changed his mind. He respected us enough to rescind his decision, even if it might have not been the best financial decision for him. My respect for him just kept growing.

He was THAT kind of dad. 

I have lots of other reasons why my dad is still in the GREATEST DAD EVER league, but this is what came to me as I was thinking about my dad yesterday.

Last week we took a quick trip over to Alberta to see my parents and I got a huge hug from my dear Pops. The drive was worth it :)

What a gift to have THAT kind of dad! 

When Two Conversations Collide

It's all about the timing when it comes to text messaging!

Since son was coming to this side of town to play ball hockey last night, I had invited him and his wife for sup, so I sent a message to let hubby know. Here's the conversation thread, and what was going through my head:

me:  P&N are coming for sup

(I also remembered another request I had for him-- he works at a radio station, so often can score some free tickets for concerts)

me:  any chance of getting some Johnny Reid tickets? 

him: probably not unless there is a late draw

him: guess you don't want to invite another guest (I'm assuming he means a guest for the concert, since he isn't interested in going)

me: yes, I could (I'm already thinking of girlfriends who may possibly want to attend with me)

him: what time would you need us home (Wha..???? WHO is 'us'???!)

him: Scott accepted our offer (oh no! Scott is an out of town businessman who Dave was working with this week)

me: I thought you were talking about tickets!!!!! (he wasn't. He was talking about a dinner guest!)

(at this point I called him on the phone and we both nervously laughed about what had just happened)

him: I'll try to get home by 6

me:  ..... (silence)

So, as you can see, a simple text message can have unexpected outcomes if one isn't careful!

Why this could have gone very badly: 

I was trying out a NEW recipe.

I wasn't 'prepared mentally' for company I had never met.

Having unexpected company is not in my 'comfort zone'.

Why this went well:

I had just finished cleaning my house (!)

With more people at the dinner table, the conversation went well. My daughter in law is a great conversationalist! :)

The maple chicken dish turned out better than I anticipated. It's definitely not going to be a favorite of mine, though. My fear was that it was bland and overcooked.(Overcooked chicken = yuk)

We had some meaningful, honest, unanticipated conversation over coffee.

Scott was a gracious guest and kept thanking us for the invitation, the dinner, and the conversation.

I just felt this whole evening was a 'God thing'. And I felt encouraged that God works in small ways, and it's exciting and faith building!

 “We can do no great things; only small things with great love.”

St. Therese of Lisieux