this woman’s work

Sometimes I think all of the problems in the world could be solved with empathy. I’m working on empathy. More specifically, I’m working on empathic communication.

See, I notice that I have a tendency to generalize my feelings and experiences to other people’s feelings and experiences. I think, “I would do that this way,” or “When that happened to me, I felt that way,” and then I leap into the conversation ready to talk about what I would do or how that would make me feel. I think that’s ok if the conversation is about sharing but very often the person on the other end is wanting to be heard and it’s hard for me to hear someone when I’m fascinated by the sound of my own voice.

I get very frustrated when people do that to me. I’ll share a problem and they’ll share a possible solution only I wasn’t asking for a solution, I was asking for sympathy. Or I’ll describe an event and they’ll interrupt me to describe a very similar event in their own lives. Feeling my own frustration was a humbling reminder that I could myself use quite a bit of work in this area.

I recognize that very often people are offering advice or their own stories as a way of seeking connection. They want to help or they’re trying to find a way to say, “You’re not alone.” I also recognize that sometimes when I myself offer a solution or a story instead of listening, that my motives are not quite as generous. Maybe I’m looking to save the person from their dilemma with my own (supposed) wisdom. Or maybe I’m so anxious to talk about myself that I start yammering about how something similar happened to me.

I’m trying really hard to stay in the moment and listen but I couldn’t tell you how successful (or not) I am in this right now. I slow myself down by doing the reflexive listening bit (”That must be very difficult for you” or “So how are you feeling about that?”) but it’s hard. Sometimes I hold a mental image of physically grabbing onto my runaway blabbermouth racecar ego and throwing myself down to drag it to a stop.

It’s humbling to feel myself getting frustrated in a conversation only to realize that I am guilty of the very same thing. Humbling but I’m grateful, too, because it’s certainly a strong impetus for me to grow.

I wrote this because I was thinking about a conversation I had with someone and getting annoyed when I reluctantly had to admit that it bothered me so much because I do it, too. Writing this up will help hold me accountable.

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