Learning to Talk

Talking isn’t my easy neutral.  It takes effort and thought, much like brushing hair the opposite way, it feels awkward, clumsy, disjointed.  Much more content to stare off inside my own head, happily bouncing around thoughts, analogies, and insights, when things get too difficult, I retreat into that happy space, quietly sealing from others. Not so much punishing them with my silence, (although I do admit to playing that sad game against hubby at times).  I just don’t think I have anything as interesting to contribute.  Other times it’s the crowd… there's always one person that loves to occupy all the air then wonder why I’m so quiet.  There’s just not a single breath to share within the tight spaces of loud dialogues.  So I retreat… and watch… and think. 

A college friend once revealed to me that no one knew anything about me and gave the homework to find one friend and start telling them everything.  A pivotal moment.  My poor roommate, Wendy, was the unaware recipient of what felt like a ridiculous brain dump the next morning.  Her eyes like saucers, she was patient with me in my awkwardness and listened intently without interruption.  So I kept testing, and talking.  But my natural neutral will always be silence. I crave a quiet house to write.  I am perfectly content to sit with a friend and never say a single thing.  And that one trait has been both my weakness and my strength.  I’m a top notch listener, but a most terrible friend, sometimes frustrated wife, and often a passive mother.

No coincidence the same week I’m speaking about Communication in Propel Women is the same week I’m reading about setting aside one hour a week to have deep and meaningful conversations with a friend in The Common Rule by Justin Earley. 

Ok, God, I get it. I agreed to let the Big Guy instruct me into being a leader… leader of my life, my business…no longer passive and reactive, but engaged and proactive.  The rusty parts are getting oiled.  Parts and processes that haven’t moved in years, perhaps never used effectively from the get-go, are now getting stretched and pulled in odd directions.

 Everything in me is itchy.  I can actually feel my heart beating right under my skin. I don’t feel adequate to provide skills on how to effectively speak, but I can certainly share the do-nots:

• Do not keep all the good stuff to yourself.  It’s selfish and the world needs your light.
• Do not assume everyone around you has a better story to tell.  We all have a story.
• Do not give up on friends/humans just because you found a rotten one.  It’s all for learning purposes.
• Do not assume you can do it all.  Every single thing is better in teams of two or more.
• Do not assume your daily life is boring.  The small shared details become the concrete base.
• Do not assume others know what you want. You’ve gotta use your words.
• Do not wait until it’s too late to speak.  Start talking immediately and repeat every day.

You’d think after generations and generations of humans, we’d have this speaking thing down pat, but our unique baggage, filters and the ever-mounting separation of screen and skin, it seems speaking well is something to learn and relearn.  I’m learning.  I’ve been learning for a long time and it seems I’m only just beginning.