A Peaceful Resolution » Shut up and listen

Don’t let your thoughts fool you

Andrew Lightheart — Mon, 19 Jul 2010 11:38:43 +0000

For a few weeks now we’ve been discussing how to stop interrupting, with some exciting (to me anyway) debates/observations going on in the comments.

One of the things that interrupters (myself included) give as a reason for interrupting is that thoughts occur to them and they are worried that they will forget them if they don’t say them out loud. Also that they interrupt if something occurs to them that might be of use to the speaker.

Something people often experience in meditation is feeling like thoughts enter from the outside, and certainly that we are separate from our thoughts, that the mind just ‘mindlessly’ (heh) produces thoughts. Even modern-day mystics like Byron Katie and Eckhard Tolle mention the same things.

I think these two might be connected.

Thoughts are self-important

So, there you are listening to someone talking. Well, someone is talking and you are near them (heh heh).

A thought occurs to you.

It seems really important because thoughts arrive full of urgency and seem to be important.

It therefore feels vital that you speak that thought out, as if the thought convinces you of its own importance.

The sensation of lips-together

As someone who is trying to learn how to stop interrupting, I’ve been experimenting this week with getting conscious of what it’s like to keep my lips together and breathe through my nose.

The actual physical sensation of shutting up.

I was sitting with a group of people the other night at dinner. One of them is a real talker and one is more reserved. I was determined to work on not interrupting, so my focus became on getting conscious of when I was about to speak, and refraining.

Simply not speaking the thought that was clamouring for the right to be spoken.

And, you know what happened?

Precisely nothing.

Conversation carried on, I listened, no one looked at me like I was weird. Sometimes I did actually say the thing that wanted to be said, sometimes I didn’t, sometimes I forgot what my point was, sometimes I let it go and something new happened.

It was quite restful actually. (One of my Things is that I need to entertain otherwise people will find me boring.)

So I wonder if us interrupters can work on keeping our lips together more, and really evaluating a thought before speaking it, even just for a second. Letting the opportunity to speak pass, and just see if there really are negative consequences.

If we can get used to letting a thought arrive, full of urgent self-importance, and then let it subside, no matter how much it tantrums, maybe we can be less easily fooled into speaking when it might be better to stay quiet.

***

Watcha reckon?

Interrupters – does that help?

Meditators – anything to add about thoughts?

Listeners – is it your experience that you let thoughts go?

Everyone – half-baked thoughts/noticings please! Just ‘yes’, ‘no’, ‘hi’ or ‘ermmm…’ also works.

No one – dogma/Capitalised Systems/advice. Is no.

Comments – love ‘em! Love. Them.

The ugly truth of why I interrupt

Andrew Lightheart — Wed, 14 Jul 2010 10:00:53 +0000

I finally know why I interrupt.

Bear with me.

The arroganceconfidencehumilitylowselfesteem scale

There’s confidence and there’s humility. Right?

Both admirable in their way.

Then, there are their shadow cousins: arrogance and low-self-esteem/self-hate/make-me-invisible.

So, yes, humility can be taken to an unhealthy extreme – and I know there are plenty of people who would love the confidence to be able to speak up at all, and in that respect, I suppose I’m lucky.

And yet, I’ve been watching what happens when I interrupt, and what I feel when I try not to interrupt.

And you know what? It’s arrogance.

I am arrogant.

I think I know where you’re going.

I think I’m not really going to learn anything from this conversation, unless you’re someone I put on a pedestal.

And in my arrogance, I am closed. Closed to possibilities, closed to anything not happening in the way I think it will.

Yet another reason to practice being less certain…

The humble alternative

I wonder what would happen if I went into every conversation (or, ok, more conversations) with curiosity, holding the possibility that this conversation might just change my life, that by listening and staying open, this person might change something permanently, that this might be a turning point in my life.

Or, by listening, I might help them change something (not sure if that’s more or less arrogant!)

(In one of those weird paradoxes, I suspect that this arrogance hides a fear of of invisibility. Fun, eh?)

So comments – yay comments!

Interrupters – does this sound familiar?

Listeners – what’s your experience of staying open to conversational possibilities?

Everyone – any stories of when something unexpected came out of staying quiet in a conversation?

Comment ‘policy’ – no adverts for Capitalised Systems, no dogma, no advice. Yes half-baked thoughts/experiences/musings…

(This is part of an exploration on how to stop interrupting, important because if you’re interrupting, you’re not listening. And listening is important, yo.

If you want to catch up, there was the original Shut Up and Listen post months ago, this one about how changing your attitude to conversation might help, the 10 unconscious beliefs of interrupters and an experiment about asking questions instead of making statements.)

How interrupters get conversation wrong

Andrew Lightheart — Wed, 07 Jul 2010 11:22:04 +0000

So, fellow Interrupters.

Complete this sentence:

Conversation is for…

Here’s some of my immediate, genuinely just-out-of-my-fingers uncensored answers:

Conversation is for company
Conversation is for saying what’s on your mind
Conversation is for making people like you
Conversation is to get things out there
Conversation is to get input on things

Zowee.

No wonder I interrupt.

(Respected and awe-inspiring non-interrupting Listeners – please complete this and report back too).

Now.

Think about a situation where you don’t interrupt.

What was the purpose there?

Times when I don’t interrupt

When someone is in crisis mode, I tend not to interrupt. My purpose is to hear them, not get into my own reactions, sit with them through the rollercoaster, show I’m listening, go where they want to go.

When I’m in coaching mode, my purpose is to help the other person hear what they are saying, to hear what they’re not saying and see if there’s something missing there, to follow-up on red flags, to hold a bigger conversational space.

When I’m with someone I really respect, my purpose is to listen, to be open to receive, to ask questions to clarify, to use the time very very well.

When I’m on a teleclass and unable to interrupt, it is my purpose to be present, to listen for what benefit I can get, to be in the space with the speaker.

Bit different, eh?

What if as interrupters we just need to change the purpose of conversation?

I’m not saying that you need to never interrupt. And I’m not saying that you do this for every conversation.

But for conversations where you want to interrupt less, what do you think about changing the purpose in your head?

How might it be different if your overriding purpose in this conversation was to respect the other person?

What if your purpose was to help the other person to feel heard?

What if your purpose was to be open to surprises?

What if your purpose was to just stay open to the other person?

I know, I know, perhaps easier said than done, but, will you try it? I’d love to hear what happens…

***

Comments – you know I LOVES ‘em!

Here’s what I’d love:

Interrupters – what turned up as unconscious purposes for conversation? What might you change the purpose to?

Listeners – please please share what you find as the purpose of conversation… I’m extremely curious to know.

What happens when you mentally change the conversational purpose?

Or, you know, something else…

And as always: Only half-baked comments, please. Even (thanks to Chloe) ‘Yes! That!’ or ‘Hmm, not sure…’ or ‘Hi!’ or ‘Makes me think of something but I can’t think what it is…’ is great.

No dogma/advice. Eees verboten.

Danke.

The 10 unconscious beliefs of the interrupter

Andrew Lightheart — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 09:12:48 +0000

I’m thinking that if as a recovering interrupter I can become conscious of my beliefs about conversation, perhaps I can learn how to stop interrupting and how to actually start listening.

Here’s what I have so far…

What interrupters (unconsciously) believe

It is important that I say what is in my head.
If I don’t say what is in my head to say, part of the conversation’s potential will have been lost.
The conversation needs my input.
I need to plan my response.
If it were silent in my head, I wouldn’t know what to say.
I can know where you’re going before you’ve finished.
As soon as I know where you’re going, you might as well stop.
When I talk about my own experience/knowledge of the topic, it shows I am listening.
The purpose of you speaking is to spark my thinking.
Speaking is contributing.

***

Comments – you know I love ‘em.

Listeners: How do your beliefs differ?

Interrupters: Which parts of this ring true? Anything I’ve left out? Any recovering interrupters got some experience to share?

(I know that’s a false dichotomy – but people often do know more about one side than the other!)

Comment rules: Only half-baked ideas please. No dogma/ideology/frameworks/advice.

How to stop interrupting people – an experiment

Andrew Lightheart — Mon, 28 Jun 2010 10:55:19 +0000

If you’ve ever spent more than three minutes with me in a relaxed setting, you’ll know one thing:

I’m a talker.

Even worse:

I’m an interrupter.

Terrible.

I am very aware that I want to be more of a listener, but I just don’t know how. I do listen, but as I listen, I find I just have a totally overwhelming desire to speak.

One of the things you can do when you want to change a behaviour is to train yourself to do an incompatible behaviour.

So here’s my experiment:

Before you make a statement, ask two questions.

I figure that if I ask a couple of questions, it will at least open up a bit of space to listen, and will delay me ‘adding value’.

I know this is a bit artificial and can’t be the last word on non-interruption, but at least it might function as first aid.

A beginning.

I will report back.

***

Hey, Talkers: What gets in the way of you listening?

(I have something brewing…)

Only half-baked ideas in the comments, please. And if you could avoid using the words ‘active’ and ‘listening’ next to each other, I’d be grateful.

The One Freak-Out Rule

Andrew Lightheart — Mon, 08 Feb 2010 14:20:14 +0000

I’m instituting a new rule experiment (seeing as it’s a listening week).

If someone else is freaking out, shut up and listen.

In other words, you’re only allowed to freak out if the other person isn’t.

Fear and anger make listening hard

I’m noticing that when I’m feeling one of the adrenalin emotions (fear, anger, and their more subtle siblings anxiety and irritation) I become much less able to listen.

For example, One of the People I Care About was having a hard time this weekend.

Did I calmly listen, allowing them to feel what they were feeling, holding them in a non-reactive heart-space to link them to their inner spark of divinity?

Did I buggery.

I interrupted them.
I contradicted them.
I shouted at them.
I told them they were wrong.
I told them they were ridiculous.
I basically didn’t implement anything I have been recommending here.

(Opening? Pah!)

Why?

Because their freak-out triggered my freak-out.

(Do I have a Thing about people close to me feeling sad? Hyuh, I do. There’s a part of me that thinks if people feel sad, they are going to feel sad for years, possibly forever, and so that very child-like part panics and tries all of its five-year-old tactics to please please cheer up.)

Thing is, in the middle of a reaction, it’s really difficult to remember complicated things.

Adrenalin seems to narrow the kind of data we can process, and limits our interpretation of that data.

Which is why trying to ‘talk sense’ to someone having a freak-out is patently unhelpful.

And it’s also why we (I) need a really clear rule to remember.

Hence – if someone else is freaking out, shut up and listen (until they stop freaking out).

Not suppressing

Just to be clear, this doesn’t mean suppressing your emotions.

The Buddhists (well, Pema C, anyway) talk about refraining.

This means (as far as I understand) feeling what you’re feeling but refraining from following the chain reaction, especially refraining from believing the reaction and speaking or acting on it.

So, the One Freak-Out Rule doesn’t mean you can’t feel like freaking out, but if there is someone else freaking out and you refrain, you will reduce unwanted (and probably unnecessary) conflict.

Also, maybe this will short-circuit your (my) instinct to get people to stop what they’re feeling.

Useful?

The Tell-Me-More Buffer

Andrew Lightheart — Tue, 12 Jan 2010 07:25:28 +0000

Of course, I know the benefit of listening.

Gives space for more meaning to come in, helps people feel heard (duh) and there was that realisation that when people are speaking they’re saying something.

You might have also caught the fact that I think active listening is evil.

However.

I am looking at how I am in conversation – not just crisis/conflict conversations which is kind of my focus here (yeah, kind of) – but also just, you know, normal conversations.

Like the night before last.

I was at a friend’s house for steak and chat. Five of us.

I watched myself reply almost immediately to everything, like there wasn’t enough time to let people finish and get what I wanted to say said.

Hyuh.

The Tell-Me-More Buffer

The Tell-me-more Buffer is making a habit of saying, ‘Tell me more,’ or ‘Oh, right?’ or ‘Huh – what’s that like?’ or at least shutting up and allowing someone to keep talking.

Especially if what they’ve just said has triggered some sort of adrenalin reaction in you.

For me, what the Tell-Me-More Buffer does is it puts space between stimulus and response.

It allows me more time to (a) not respond and (b) find more information/meaning as it’s likely I will have jumped straight up my ladder of inference quite quickly without even noticing and it gives me a chance to add more information to see if I’m barking up the wrong ladder and also it stops me talking.

Pant, pant.

Ah yes, the overwhelming desire to speak

One of the things I’ve been struggling with working on becoming conscious of is that I have an overwhelming desire to speak.

(It’s also probably the reason I’ve been teaching presentation skills for the past 6 years, but let’s leave that particular topic for another time. As my friend Beverley says, we all walk our limp, right?)

If I can somehow get around it and let the other person talk, even for a moment, what I find is that new things happen.

Thing is, although not everyone has the affliction, I think we almost all get it when the adrenalin starts to flow.

One of the things about the Tell-Me-More Buffer is that, like a lot of the practices you need during conflict and crisis, you have to practice them before you’re in crisis and conflict because by the time you’re in that situation it’s too late.

It’s about developing habits, about how you can stay awake, about how you can carve a groove before you get there.

Argh – Active Listening – p’tooee…

The danger with this one is that it can seem a bit like active listening:

‘Tell me more about that…’

Ew. Ew! Ew. Ew! Ew. Ew!

Yes I want it to be a habit to listen to people more and to allow space for them to be actually heard.

But that doesn’t mean I’m going to do all that nodding stuff so that they feel heard when I’m not actually hearing them.

It is, again, about remembering

The TMMB (no?) allows enough space for me to remember that I’m meant to be listening and then I can genuinely listen.

This week

So this week I get to play with getting one more sentence out of people before I speak.

I ask that I might somehow find the humility to see that perhaps I don’t completely know where they’re going, I don’t totally know the end of their train of thought, perhaps what I see as adding value might actually be arrogant rudeness.

I’m all about the humility, see.

Then if I happen to be in a situation of conflict or crisis (SoCoC?) maybe it will become a reflex.

We’ll see.

Shut Up and Listen

Andrew Lightheart — Mon, 23 Nov 2009 10:14:05 +0000

Before I get into expert mode, a little self-importance-balloon-popping.

Disclaimer-type story

This year me and some friends were discussing Lent. One friend was giving up chocolate.

I said I might give up interrupting people.

My friends literally laughed until they cried.

So, yeah – I’ve got a lot to learn about listening.

Here are, however, my initial thoughts – kind of benchmarking where I am before I really start trying it out.

Active listening is evil

There is something fundamentally wrong about ‘active listening’ – all the symptoms of listening without the hassle of actually listening.

Don’t nod – listen!

Stategic listening is evil

Listening solely so you can persuade or find holes that work in your favour? Plain wrong.

Advocacy and Inquiry

Chris Argyris talks a lot about how we need to balance advocacy (making our point of view clear) with inquiry (finding out about other people’s point of view).

I’ve spent a big chunk of my life helping people become extraordinary advocates for their point of view, particularly in the context of public speaking.

I realised a long time ago that this wasn’t the full picture. It was whilst researching facilitation, and group decision-making that I began to really feel the lack of the Inquiry side in my life.

And that, in a funny way, lead to you and me meeting here.

Listening is more allied to opening

Now, I’m not saying that all talking leads to closing, but radical listening is much more closely allied with opening.

Interrupting too often comes from closing

From watching myself, interrupting comes when I arrogantly assume I know where someone else is going, and so I jump ahead.

Interrupting too often leads to closing

The people close to me have had to learn over the years to be ok with being talked over. This I am not proud of. And too often, interrupting leads to a hardening.

Listening brings space

Especially in a conflict situation, listening can lead to space between action and response – exactly what is needed to bring some balance.

My curse: The overwhelming need to talk

This week (and perhaps this year, this life) my challenge is to at least watch my overwhelming need to speak and see what happens when I ask a question or at least shut up when someone else is talking.

Let you know how it goes on Friday.

At least I’m not a sentence-finisher.

Things that deserve their own article

~ Advocacy vs Inquiry
~ The Tell-me-more buffer
~ Listening for feelings and needs