essaysbysean.blogspot.com
Becoming a “good listener,” as
people often describe me, is a lifestyle choice, a lifestyle that you, dear
reader, can aspire to achieve, in various ways.
How? Maybe not like me specifically—my
best friend Susan, from seeing me around my straight friends and her gay
friends, has said I am a chameleon. In this I am like detective Garret, the brave
ironic man in Glen Cook’s fantasy series. Garret reports that by listening
while being semi-like the person he is interviewing he gathers more information.
As for regular people, non-chameleons, they can surely be good listeners without
being like Garret or I.
Another advantage Garret has, when
it comes to listening, is he genuinely likes people, and he accepts them as
they are. While he dislikes criminals and the rulers up on the hill, in the
course of the series Garret dates a crime Lord’s daughter, a successful big capitalist’s
daughter and a high mucky muck princess: He can look for the good and show
his warmth towards a girl’s human side. Garret reminds me of the real world where
the noted psychologist Carl Rogers documented in his On Becoming a Person the power of listening with positive regard.
As a young man I underlined parts of Roger’s book.
“Good listener” implies there are
“bad listeners,” which implies listening ability is on a scale, a spectrum. I
try to be at the pretty end of the spectrum. And you?
If we can change our place on the
spectrum, then that implies that listening “skills” are involved, meaning: I
can “improve” my skills. And that is indeed the case—supposedly. Today social work students are taught listening skills,
such as head nodding, never crossing their arms to look cross, and so forth. (There’s
even an acronym to learn!) I won’t go down their laundry list of skills here. These
skills were first noted, and picked out as something to be taught, by a man who
worked with Carl Rogers, Richard Farson. In one of the best management books out
there, Management of the Absurd,
(with a forward by Michael Crichton) Farson confesses he wishes now he had
never captured such skills.
In other words, there is a Zen to
it. Instead of learning to listen from the outside in, by pasting on skills,
why not learn from the inside out, by firing up sincere desire? A little
sincerity goes a long way. Farson prefers desire to skills. Me too.
If today folks tell me I am a good
listener then it is not from me learning a few skills, slowly over time, but from
instantly learning something, one day in Montreal, as I was reading a page of
the best seller Sex and the Single Girl
by noted Cosmopolitan editor Helen
Gurley Brown. In a nutshell: When you go out on a date, really listen hard… That’s
it, that’s all Ms. Brown has to say—and that’s enough. It might sound simplistically
easy to you, but there are reasons why other people just can’t do it.
More Zen: Instead of the focus of a
meditating monk, imagine a contrast: It’s hard to listen if you are
simultaneously trying to think about other things, being distracted. And
please, don’t be distracted by thinking
about what you are going to say: Wait until the other guy stops his flow of
words, then think, in the space after
the full stop. Otherwise, besides not listening your best, you may seem rushed
and downright undignified. Gentlemen don’t rush in public.
Again the Zen: For the ears to be
open the mind must be open. When Captain Kirk, as brave as detective Garret,
meets new people from new civilizations, he is Zen-relaxed, having optimal
tension. It’s hard to hear, hard for a radio transmission to come in strong and
clear, when you have your “deflector screens up” from stubbornness, ideology,
or a mind of fear. This month some born-in-America Muslims gave me no cheer: Firmly
believing that “Islam means peace,” they were unwilling to listen to a former Member
of Parliament, raised-in-a-Muslim-district, who thought otherwise. In fact,
they dis-invited her from coming to their campus—Brandeis University in Waltham/Boston
Massachusetts—where she was going to pick up an honorary degree. And speak. Regarding
the dis-inviting of Ayaan Hirsi Ali, presumably to shelter students from
discomforting views, Canadian columnist Rex Murphy asked, “Is this a university
or a day care?”
Of course a mind can be consciously
closed, a person can deliberately describe himself as a “stubborn old coot” or “a
true Marxist” or “right” thinking. Well, so much for “good” listening.
As it happens, a mind can be unconsciously closed too. My favorite
web essayist, Paul Graham, is a partner in a Silicon Valley firm that incubates
groups of entrepreneurs building “startup” companies. Most startups fail. For advising
the successful groups, a few “words to the wise” are sufficient.
But it’s different advising the unsuccessful
groups, the groups who seem to have made their decision in advance. Paul and
his partners write of “a sort of wall,” of “glazed eyes,” as if everything they
hear is going through a filter when “(the bad groups) desperately tries to
munge whatever I’ve said into something that conforms with their decisions or
just outright dismisses it and creates a rationalization for doing so. They may
not even be conscious of this process…” Better to have a mind unclosed, like an
eager university student does, except at Brandeis, a student who looks at
everything with alert fresh eyes: a good listener.
Good students remind me that “good”
hearing is like the difference between being a mere reader and a “good” reader
in the business world. As Kate White puts it in I Shouldn’t Be Telling You This (p. 192) “The other reason people
don’t use knowledge is that they don’t program their minds to really consider
it. They let their eyes skim over what might be of advantage without gaining
any traction. You have to set your brain on “inquiry” and make it a habit to
seek and question.”
Ability to listen, then, is partly
a Zen-matter of “setting your intention” to be open to people. Too bad the
world in general isn’t as open as a college campus. For me, by being a
chameleon I become less judgmental and less frustrated whenever
(hypothetically) I spend a half hour having tea and cookies in a dysfunctional
household. Meanwhile, as our War on Terror runs like a background process in
our lives, I wonder: Has even one cross-border (global reach) terrorist ever come from a functional family?
(Note: I have read that both Hitler
and Mussolini came from dysfunctional families, and I guess Tojo did too)
What I never want to be is harsh to
my wife and children… or self willed or uptight or intolerant. Surely such
people, known to everyone around them as being ungracious, have a vested
interest in being poor listeners in all areas of their life. My advice: Don’t
be that guy. If some religious person tells you, in words or by actions, that
you can’t be moral, upright and do good without being impolite, intolerant and
downright abusive… then refer him to brave men like Abraham Lincoln, Reverend Martin
Luther King, Jr. and Mahatma Gandhi: They all tried to do some good while being
polite and moral people; all were folks I would want for my neighbors, all were
good listeners. Not like certain folks in Iran.
(Lincoln’s my favorite 19th
century president—Whitehouse records show he spent many man-hours listening to
visitors; complete strangers would line up to talk to him)
As for abuse, it seems to me a well-meaning
tyrant, in his house here or over in Iran, might have trouble grasping that he is abusive. My way to check my behavior
is this: Seldom is there a middle ground, so if it’s not nurturing then it’s abusive… If I cannot bear to listen to
those who would disagree with me, if I must be impolitely silencing them, be hurting
their feelings, even scaring them, then that is abusive, and I am in the wrong…
It must be hard for students of certain backgrounds to go away to college and
end up evaluating their harsh parents. I’m sure orthodox “listening-challenged”
parents prefer their children to attend local schools, preferably orthodox
ones. Then there’s less chance of the kids coming home at Christmas with fresh
ideas.
As I write this, our drone strikes
are in the news, our war on terror continues. One of my hopes for peace is our university
students. I don’t mind my tax dollars supplementing their tuition fees: Our students
build our future—including the students learning liberal arts. One day, when
Muslim students at Brandeis can listen
to Muslim social work students offering them advice on being “functional” then
I will know the long walk to peace has passed a milestone.
Yes, I’m a good listener, but not
from measurable skills, you don’t need special training. To paraphrase
Alberta-born singer KD Lang, “Clear your mind and the rest will follow.”
Sean Crawford
A homely middle-aged man,
Who’ll be glad when this war is
over,
And I don’t have to carry my shoes
to fly in white socks wearing a dancer’s black unitard
April
2014
Footnotes:
~For a chart of Lincoln’s visiting
hours throughout his presidency, see a book I really enjoyed, Lincoln on Leadership: Executive Strategies for Tough Times
By the way, being as I’m a Lincoln fan, I memorized his Gettysburg Address as an adult. (Not for school) Like learning a poem, it’s nice to have in my head, to share with Canadians when, say, we’re out in the mountains.
By the way, being as I’m a Lincoln fan, I memorized his Gettysburg Address as an adult. (Not for school) Like learning a poem, it’s nice to have in my head, to share with Canadians when, say, we’re out in the mountains.
~Speaking of intolerance, I’ve read
a few first-person accounts of life in Iran, but never one where the writer was
a friend of a mullah. (Priest) Have you?
~Here’s a link to Paul Graham’s
essay, A Word to the Resourceful (January 2012)
~I heard Rex Murphy’s column on CBC
radio. I found a printed version. (April 11, 2014)
~Amusing: Some people are such poor listeners that John Prine sings a song for them; “My Linda’s gone to Mars/ Well I wish she wouldn’t leave me
here alone” … My father traveled too, for a time, until one day my mother hit
him in the wallet—she made him fork out for a hearing test!
~I remember a young KD Lang singing
at the student union building wearing a long dress and cut off cowboy boots. Here’s
a link to her in blue singing a Leonard Cohen song, Halleluiah. You might prefer a clip of her in white, singing with more
individuality at the 2010 Vancouver Olympics, which apparently NBC cut out of
their US broadcast.
~My afterthoughts regarding Brandeis U will be held back, maybe to
append to the every-25-posts upcoming “taking stock” post, later in this month of May.
Sean, Thanks for stopping by my blog. Sorry I wasn't there, but I rarely am. I spend my time on Facebook. In fact that was really where the action took place for my contest for a free copy of my latest book, Silver Totem of Shame. Sorry it's over now. Snow is all gone. Looking forward to meeting you at WWC. R.J. Harlick
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