Listening

For my book club we were supposed to read The 3rd Alternative by Steven Covey.  Now, truth be told, I am not a Steven Covey fan.  Mostly because people get weird about him and his books, and all the people I know who tout his most famous book are people that I don't wish to be like.  "Effective" is a nasty word.  I don't want to be effective, I want to be happy.  I don't even want to be effectively happy.  I want my happiness to be sloppy and messy and haphazard and natural.  Anything but effective.  

However, I've been in school for so long that I haven't read a single book club book for quite a while.  Out of a sense of joy at my newfound freedom more than anything else, I decided to go ahead and read the book.

And holy cow, the book is deep.  It's like learning about Charity, but in a completely applicable, how-to sort of way.  I figured out that I'm really good at seeing myself "correctly", but I'm pretty terrible at seeing others the same way.  In particular, I felt a sting about a few specific people that I've been giving a hard time (I've been known to tell my husband that these people aren't quite human - they're sub-human.  How's that for an honest admission of how awesome I am, eh?).

The book talks about how to listen, mostly.  How to really, truly listen.  And I realized that I'm also a pretty terrible listener.  I might be able to help come up with a solution to your problem (though, probably not.  I'm not super creative, actually), but I'm not going to say anything that sounds even remotely sympathetic / empathetic.  Empathy is not something I try to do.  To me it feels condescending somehow.  I don't know, I can't explain it.

But as I was reading the book, or at least the sections that applied to me, I was going, "Geez, I've got some changing to do."  More empathy needed.  Better listening.  I bet I could completely turn around my relationship with Elijah if I just listened better.  Which wouldn't be hard, cause I haven't been listening at all.  I don't even have to be a Master Listener to do a better job.

Which requires a side bar.  My 9-year-old son has been struggling lately.  We've been making a massive effort to try to turn things around.  We've gotten him outside help, we've signed him up for activities that he's interested in, we've tried to be better parents with  more consistent rules and nicer attitudes.  And things have improved quite a bit.  

Still, Elijah has been saying things like:  "No one treats me like a human being."  "You always treat me like an idiot."  "No one wants to be my friend."

I've been interpreting these statements as you would think I would:  Elijah struggles making and keeping friends, and he has low self-esteem.

Last night was another one of those times when he said that I always treat him like he's stupid.  He overreacted to the extreme, and I put him in his room to cool off.  After a few minutes, I walked in to talk to him.  As he talked and I felt myself wanting to roll my eyes at the drama and the overreacting, I consciously told myself, "Tamra, be a better listener."  And you know what I heard myself say:

"That sounds frustrating, Elijah."

Guess what I've never said to him ever before?  That phrase.  It didn't sound that bad coming out of my mouth.  And you know what it encouraged him to do?  Keep talking.  Here's what I learned:

1 - If you let him keep talking,  he'll come up with the same solutions I would have, but on his own - without any suggestion on my part.

2 - Sometimes people bug him at school.  "Everyone" means 2 specific people at school.  And one of those two moved out after Kindergarten!  (Yes, that's how long this kid can hold on to injustices.  Welcome to Elijah's world.)

3 - After listening to him for a while, he was totally willing to accept what I had to say.  "That makes sense."  

Wait, that's all it took?  Why haven't I been saying things like, "That must be hard," all this time?  Oh, yeah, because I hate hearing things like that.  "That must be hard"?  Well, yeah.  That's why I'm telling you.  I don't want you to try to echo back the emotions I'm putting out.  I can figure out my own emotions myself.  And you'll usually get it wrong anyway, so ...  When Rob (or others) try the "active listening" stuff on me, repeating back what I just said in a slightly different way, I just get frustrated.  "No, you weren't listening.  That's not what I was saying at all.  Now I have to explain it all over again until you can get it right."  :)  

But if all this empathy will create a healthy, happy relationship with my son, I can swallow my pride.  It's not about me.  It's about him.  Check out this exchange, at the end of our discussion / listening session:

"You tell me I'm stupid all the time."

"Can you tell me a time when I did?"
"Well, it's not what you say, it's how you say it.  Like one time I was digging holes in the backyard, and you said, "Wow, Elijah, that's real smart."  If a dog had done that, well, maybe not a dog, because you wouldn't talk to a dog quite like that, but you made me feel like I was stupid because I dug holes in the backyard."

"Okay."  (pause)  "I get that.  But let me explain a difference.  Digging holes in the backyard is a stupid action.  It doesn't make you a stupid person to do something that is stupid.  I should react better, but sometimes you do things that are in themselves stupid, but it does not mean that I think you're stupid.  I don't think you're stupid.  You're very smart."

"Yeah, because stupid is like when you don't know what 1 plus 1 is.  And I know lots of that kind of stuff."

"Right.  You're very good at math, for instance.  But we all do stupid things sometimes.  You do.  I do.  We all do."

"Oh.  So, doing something that is stupid is different than being stupid.  That makes sense.  You'd be stupid if you kept doing that stupid thing over and over."

Ding, ding, ding!  Did you hear it in his last comment?  A light bulb when on.

I think a light bulb went on for both of us.