LISTEN, IF YOU WANT TO KNOW A SECRET

Assuming we are average, which of course we are not, we only listen to about 25% of what is verbally communicated to us. This disturbing information comes from Barry L. Reece and Rhonda Brandt’s book: Effective Human Relations. I’m sure neither Barry nor Rhonda is average either! To be a bad listener is not good. Even worse is the fact that only 25% of what you and I verbally communicate is heard. Of course this is very disturbing, as we have so much more great and important stuff to say than all those average persons put together – I’m sure you agree!

 

So what do all those average listeners actually do with the time they pretend to be listening?Are they balancing checkbooks, mentally repainting the garage or wondering if Darwin was right after all? I very much doubt it.

 

Here are three things I think they do: First of all, they are impatiently waiting for the other person to stop talking. Secondly, they are waiting even more impatiently for it to be their turn so they can express what they have to say about the issue. Thirdly, they are contemplating how they can make their story much more interesting, colorful, exciting and fantastic and how they no doubt can out-do what this other person is saying – whatever 25% they hear. I’m sure you get the picture, but just in case this is all news to you, here is a refresher course in how to “out-do”:

 

Male one: “My wife was in labor for nearly 16 hours before our son was born. It was the most difficult of times!”

 

Male two: “That’s nothing. My wife labored for a fortnight before the third of the twins was finally born!”

 

Male three: “The hospital had never seen anything like the month long, shriekingly painful, excruciating and exhausting contraction filled labor my wife went through – and she wasn’t even pregnant!”

 

So are we really such bad listeners? Obviously we are. Do we not find what other people are saying interesting? Obviously we don’t. Is there any hope for us? You bet there is, but it is fully up to ourselves to become better listeners – nobody else can help us. I’m sure that by now you have quietly tried to evaluate your own listening capabilities, taken stock as to how good of a listener you think you are. If you found that you suck, then welcome to the club and do not despair. The following might make you feel better and point you towards recovery:

 

My immediate family consists of my wife, our two sons and yours truly. As part of our daily routine back then, we got together at dinnertime. It was a pleasant time as we would catch up, chat and enjoy each other’s company. The ‘catch up’ and ‘enjoy’ parts were great, but it was the ‘chat’ part we had a bit of a listening problem with. Here is how and it’s still somewhat like this, but has improved a bit:

 

We do not even consider waiting till the other person is done with his or her sentence, statement or story. All of us have basically perfected the art of ruthlessly cutting in the very second the other person needs to take a breath. We are waiting for that certain moment of weakness, waiting to coldly intercept, waiting for that split-second kill window and then it’s: “me-me-me!” So for the talker to avoid being prematurely interrupted, we have all learned to state our opinions, tell our stories, expose our ideas - without breathing. You should try it - but please practice first, as talking without breathing is not for everyone. Compared to the above, you might actually be doing better as a listener than you thought!

 

Most of us were taught not to interrupt when others are talking. Obviously some of that well-meaning advice from our parents has, over the years, gone in one ear and out the other; one of the few dangers of keeping our ears open! But it is still a great social skill to follow. We should always listen more and talk less. When we do, we quickly find out how much fun it actually is to listen more. We’ll also find that more people will like us, because active talkers adore good listeners. So if you want to know a secret or two, all you have to do is close your mouth, open your ears and let patience rule.

 

Yes, there is of course still hope for all of us. To start improving our listening abilities, we must begin with the art of patience – simply by patiently listen. As we continue to get better at listening, the patience aspect will slowly fade, as it becomes a natural utensil in our communication toolbox. We are slowly becoming certified listeners as we begin to fully balance listening and talking. We start to experience a much richer world around us; it is all up to ourselves – nobody else can help us.

 

Do not get me wrong, even with all this said and done, I am still a terrible listener, but I am trying to convert. Fifteen minutes in front of the bathroom mirror every morning, practicing the “tightly closed mouth – wide open ears” exercise. I believe at this writing that I am up to about a 40% listening capability, not 25% anymore. At least I’m above average. How about you?

 

So to keep improving I have promised myself to keep listening more than talking, no matter how much I want to open my mouth. If I want to know a secret, my ears must stay wide open and my mouth tightly closed. I’m also working on saying: “I talked with so-and-so” instead of: “I talked to so-and-so”. There’s a big difference.

 

As mentioned in the beginning, most of this is not a reflection on you and me; only all the good stuff, of course. We are much more into the inter-personal form of communication, staying within the wonderful art of the fifty-fifty-way of conversing, which includes respect, concern, compassion, personal interest, love, consideration, listening, talking, asking questions and patience. That is the way we should all communicate with each other - the way we should all listen to each other. “The art of talking must always balance with the art of listening!” and that is no secret.

 

I’m sorry! Did you say something?

See you next Monday

Question of the week: Is it possible for a cat to be an underdog?

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IT’S RAINING WILD SQUIRRELS AND CONFUSED COWS – and you know what I mean.

Okay, so it’s raining cats and dogs, but I think squirrels and cows is cuter. We keep using phrases, saying one thing and meaning another; I’m not sure why we do this. It’s raining cats and dogs pretty much cover: it’s raining a lot; so why the heck don’t we just say that? And you have no clue where some of these phrases are coming from, do you? Again, I’m here to help.

In the 17^th or 18^th century (a few weeks back), houses were thatch-roofed. When it rained, small animals, dogs and cats were cowering under the roof where it was warm and dry. But when it rained really hard, the animals came lose and suddenly it rained cats, dogs, rats, mice, bunny rabbits and cute hamsters named Fluffy… well, you get the idea. This is a charming rendition of the origin of this phrase; here’s a less charming one. Due to the open sewers running down the streets in those glorious days (!) dead cats, dogs and other animals floated through when the rain was heavy, hence the raining of cats and dogs. Now we can believe that if we wish or not, but at least now you’ll pull up that picture the next time you use this phrase.

Most phrases make immediate sense; a drop in a bucket, fish out of H2O, a red rag to a bull, etc. but some are a bit weird and gets weirder when we find out their assumed origin. Many phrases mean the same thing: a pig in a poke (poke meaning sack or bag), and for feline lovers: don’t buy the cat in the sack. So don’t purchase before you know what you are buying. Again, why can’t we just say that? I hear some of you going: It makes our language more colorful, and I can swing with that, but is that your only reason?

A shot in the arm originated around 1900 and actually refers to the stimuli from injecting drugs into your system. As cool as a cucumber was first used in some writing by John Gay in 1732. Staying cool (as I assume a cucumber does), calm and collected. Easy as pie; now really, is this related to eating the pie or making it? As cute as a bug’s ear; last I checked, bugs don’t have ears and if they did they would be utterly ugly. Happy as a clam; have you ever met a happy clam? They say that when the clam-shell is a bit open it looks like it’s smiling. NO confused people, it’s trying to scream as death is only moments away. Kick the bucket as in to die is from around 1785 and referred to somebody standing on a bucket in an attempt to hang themselves, by kicking it away. Yeah, I know a bit strong. Another explanation is that slaughter-houses used buckets to collect the blood… okay, you get the picture; nice images to recall when using this phrase. Knock on wood (or for the readers in England: touch wood). First acknowledge back in the 17^th century and caused by mythology that trees have good spirits. One of the more used phrases and so far it has worked for me big time (knock on wood).

Of course there are the phrases and stuff we say that are really weird and I like them all. No room to swing a cat. Not often used, but meaning a rather confined space. It’s not Monty Python related as in swinging Sparky around by her tail, but related to the flail-like whip Cat-O’Nine-Tails some sailors back in 1665 got punished with. Hanky-Panky is from around 1841 and needs no further instruction. When pigs fly is my favorite, really. It means complete impossibility, but that doesn’t sound as cute as flying pigs, does it? Rule of thumb has a dark and twisted origin. An English judge (sorry Jane W.) back in 1782 allowed a man to beat his wife with a stick as long as it was not thicker than his thumb. Be calm gentle readers, I also found this to be a hoax, as the phrase is more of a measuring term for carpenters, etc. back in many years ago – darn it! Tastes like crap (or that other noun). My response to that: How do they know? To tie the knot is the pledge for unbreakable lasting unity (this is obviously dream-like thinking and also many years ago). The knot thing is from the bed supports as mattresses were yet to be invented, so the bed-supports were tied to the bed-frame, therefor tying the knot. Now tie up the NUT (referring to the other spouse) is for a future blog-post… When it’s rather cold try using this one: Cold enough to freeze the balls off a brass monkey. Now don’t get all huffy, the balls in this case is reference to the balls of nose and ears – it’s a very old term. Nerd was first used in 1950 in Dr. Seuss’s book If I ran the Zoo. So we can’t blame Bill Gates, huh? (Bill was born in 1955).

And one could go on, but I’ll Peter Out (Peter used as a verb, meaning dwindle away…). It’s actually an old gold-miners term, but I’m still very much against it. I guess phrases such as the ones above and many more do make our language more colorful, for the most in a good way. And as life really is, more terms are added every day. I’m especially fond of WHAT?, WHATEVER and IT WASN’T ME. Maybe one day I’ll come up with something original that will spread – cha, it could happen.

See you next Monday – really.

PS. I was hiding this till way last: Paying through the nose. The Danish Vikings were not always charming and entertaining. When they found that people and kings they plundered refused to pay, they slit their noses, thereby the term Paying through the nose – bring that picture up next time you are hacking up too much for something.

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I DO NOT HAVE MANY FRIENDS – and I know why…

We all know people who call everybody they have ever met their close friends, tightest pals and best buddies – forever. Anything living (or dead) they declare everlasting friendship with. Maybe they are right in doing so, as Mark Zuckerberg and his Facebook can find all these friends for us that we didn’t know we had or we tried unsuccessfully to avoid. I have seen many with way over 600 friends on Facebook – I have 14 and don’t know half of them; true story. In real life as well, I have very few friends and I know why. No, it’s not due to bad body odor, horrendous breath or that I make really interesting sounds when I eat; it’s simply because of the way I perceive what a friend is (or should be).

A friendship is an interpersonal relationship that I believe should include some of the following items: We must have similar values without agreeing on everything, but respect each other’s different views. We must have sympathy and empathy for each other; we must be honest and truthful in all our communication and be understanding when things are not going well and not be envious when our friend wins the 60 million in the lottery and doesn’t want to share (what kind of bloody friend is that, you ask). Compassion is a must and being supportive of each other is high on the list. We must have fun (very essential) and through the enjoyment of our friendship, we must constantly be respectful. A friendship is big time give and take.

But back on Earth where life as it really is flourish, we know that there are not that many saints hanging around to cover the above; that’s why I do not have many friends. But what about you people with the 600+ friends – are they all like this? I didn’t think so…

If you to any extent believe I have found even one friend other than my wife fitting the above mold, you must be mad. Of course friendships are not mold-fitting concepts we to any extent can squeeze potential pals and buddies into. Instead we accept and engage in friendships with fewer expectations, as there are so many layers to like or dislike, accept and tolerate, embrace or ignore. For me a sense of humor is utterly important. The art of laughing at one self and see the lighter side of life around us is a must. I’m not talking about the below-the-belt jokes, but using humor as a commentary to our surroundings. And don’t forget that respect thing…

A friendship is somewhat like a marriage, or at least considered a close sister or brother in concept. I have the horrific feeling that we would not divorce as easily if we focused more on the friendship part of the marital bliss. I also feel that we are probably more apt to throw away a marriage than discarding a friendship; please tell me I’m wrong.

One thing is for sure, a friendship does have the same risks of faltering as does a marriage and probably for some of the same reasons. We grow apart, fetch other interests, money, we move away, I hate you and so forth. The interesting bit is that we possibly consider a friendship more solid and harder to tip over, where a marriage is perhaps more disposable? If that is true, that’s a terrible picture, don’t you think? The reality is that a friendship probably has a better chance of surviving as we do not sleep together, live and eat together, have kids, pets and auto-insurance together. Marriage has a tendency to bring along all the aspects of concerns and challenges that 24/7 relationships deal with. Those are the things we casually chat with our friends about (and giggle). It seems that we can more so let out some internal steam to our friends, where confronting these same issues at home might cause problems (do I have to mention the 50% divorce rate in this country?) Do I experience that with my wife? Not really, as we do laugh a lot and are cordial and respectful towards each other’s needs and wishes, solving issues on an even level – and my wife is my best friend ever in this whole world, so that’s a huge help.

So we party with our friends, air out stuff and interact on so many different levels, and then we go home. That’s where the friendship has its charm. It’s for the most simple and not that demanding. But don’t get me wrong, a friendship as a marriage involves a lot of labor, hard work and constant attention, otherwise it will die, or even worse, it will end in divorce. And if you think that all friendships for some Godly or spiritual reasoning last forever, you are very misinformed. They can break up and in many cases due to really silly reasons – and in some cases for no reason at all. But of course those with over 600+ Facebook friends do not give a hooters concerning losing a friend or 20, huh?

Back in 2006 American Sociological Review told us that since 1986 the quality and quantity of close friendships has dropped from 4 to 2 friends per person that we rely on. Are you getting your share? Approximately 25% of us have no close friends at all – and that’s terrible. Today about 80% of us lean on our families more so than on our (close) friends. With information like that we now seriously realize how blessed those Facebook dudes and dudettes are with 600+ friends (shouldn’t they at least share?) while I’m still struggling trying to find out who the heck 9 of my (alleged) 14 Facebook friends are. Maybe I’ll contact Zuckerberg; he started it so he should know, don’t you think? He seriously has over sixty trillion close friends – lucky bastard. I’ll leave him a message on Facebook; if he gets back to me, I’ll let you know… Oh by the way, you wanna be my friend, please?    

See you next Monday.

RIP:  Some people die too young: John Lennon, my Mother’s husband and now Steve Jobs, just to name a few; it’s a bit empty around here without them…

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BEING IN LOVE DRAMATICALLY DIMS THE LIGHT OF COMMON SENSE

Oh yes it does and you know it, at least I hope you do – really, because then you have been in love. The being in love experience is out of this world; the euphoria it comes wrapped in, the excitement, the romance, the elicit fantasies of what is next, the tender touches, the newness and in many cases followed by the till death do us part bit (not referring to untimely fatality by the hands of crazed spouse). But there’s another equally important side to being in love, like utmost stress, paranoia, frustration, insecurities, sweating in real weird places, shattered hopes, despair and pathetic behavior, financial ruin, stupidity, ignorance, anger and jealousy – just to name a few. Put the two sides together and you know I’m right: being in love dramatically dims the light of common sense. That’s how life really is… Don’t you agree?

Being in love with and love somebody (other than oneself), are two different animals. The first is that cute little puppy of initial feelings that might bring us to that love you thing. I seriously don’t think we can be in love forever, it’s such a strong feeling – I probably don’t have the emotional stamina or the capacity to do that. But the love somebody bit I’m more than fine with, as it involves a massive amount of respect and a lot of other cool stuff.

There are many ways people meet and fall in love. From those sensitive and charming pick-up lines in Tony’s Bar & Thrills: “Your place or my car?” and the sure-fire: “I’m a Gemini, and how much do you weigh?” till meeting love interests through friends and family, AA meetings, the Internet, the produce aisle at Raley’s or through the local escort service; the places and ways we meet are too numerous to count. But we meet and sometimes we fall in love while watching common sense flush down the toilet.

Being in love does dim our common senses and we do stupid things accordingly. No disrespect to Lady Gaga, but we do go gaga when Cupid’s arrows hit our hearts; at times it would have helped matters if they went straight through our heads instead, if you know what I mean. For the most we forget who we really are and act like somebody we think he or she will like better. We use too much cologne and perfume, set our hair so different and wear clothes never worn before to the point where our frightened mothers don’t recognize us when we walk through the living room dressed for that first date and confused mother screams: “rape, murder and weird intruder” while frantically dialing 9-1-1. We open all kinds of doors for our new love-interest (a forgotten chivalry thing that we saw in a movie). We pull chairs out and push them in, hoping she lands on them; we listen (I know, but I did tell you about that gaga thing); we compliment too much:  “Your hair looks lovely tonight, Dorothy, and it goes so well with your purse…” we stammer from lack of training. She’s in love as well and doesn’t hear a thing; she is busy wondering if the dress she borrowed from Macy’s for the night will survive the evening in a money-back condition. A bit much, but you know what I mean, huh?

And then there’s the possible goodnight smooch, that first physical encounter besides the one when he poked an elbow into her left eye while demonstrating a dance-step he had forgotten; that potential kiss lingering through the evening. The bad-breath syndrome is looming excessively and the moment is getting closer and closer. But before that, every bloody move, tone of voice, smile, verbalization, concern and everything else is hacked through some form of intense censorship. What did he mean when he said he loved my hair; why was his fingers crossed? With those long nose hairs, would it be possible that she doesn’t shave her armpits? That would be so cool. Is he going to pay for this meal or did he forget his wallet - duh? And the self-assured smirk on his face suddenly disappears as he realizes he has been playing footsy with one of the table legs for 45 minutes - and so forth. It’s Romantic Hell at its best, don’t you think so? I do hope you have been through it all – and maybe a few times, because it is really cool - afterwards.

I liked being in love; the last time was some 27-plus years ago, and we will be together till death do us part – I have no doubts about that. I love my wife, a love mixed with massive respect. And once in a while I find myself being in love with her again; it’s a bit different than the initial fireworks, but it’s there and when it is, I take it all in, smile and sigh. Yes, it’s still a grand feeling, but now it’s without the crazy stuff, only filled with common sense.  

Being in love dramatically dims the light of common sense is a fact we all acknowledge. But would we like it any different? I doubt it. We all smile and giggle when we retell our romantic how we met stories; we all know we went a bit gaga, and isn’t that wonderful? I like listening to those stories and then I think about how I met my wife and how I fell in love at first sight – and that is so much Life as it Really is (sighing)…

Thanks for reading, see you next Monday