Carrying on listening

I've had some unexpected opportunities to sit and listen to other people's ongoing stories in the last couple of days, so it's been helpful to be reminded by Lynne Baab's latest book, The Power of Listening, that good listening can be affected by our own anxieties, or our desires to 'solve' problems, or our need to keep moving forward because we're busy - and much more.

One of the advantages of being retired is that time isn't quite so pressured. Whereas lunch times always used to be affected by the need to get back to work, that's no longer the case for me. And evenings aren't such an issue either, because I can work in the daytime and get want I want done then (such as walking the dog, or writing the sequel to my children's book, which is well on its way).

But being under time pressure isn't the only thing that gets in the way of good listening: our anxiety that we can't solve the problem(s) is another issue. And trying to solve the problem may be the last thing we need to be doing. The person may first and foremost just need to be heard. One of the things we learned when doing a course in pastoral supervision is that that someone with a problem may need most of all to talk out their issues. It's the fact of talking, and being heard, that's important, rather than your attempts at problem-solving. And frequently, in the talking out, the problems clarify for the person and some options to dealing with them arise.

Uriah Heep.
Artist: Fred Bernard

Lynne points out in one of her last chapters in the book that we require humility when listening to others. This can be difficult for people who live in an age when self-esteem, and self in general, are the 'important' things. Humility isn't something we moderns are very good at. That sense of putting ourselves aside in order to give someone else room - and doing it without making it a false action (like Uriah Heep at his worst) - isn't always easy for us.

I still haven't read the first half of Lynne's book, but the second half has been more than helpful!

The Power of Listening - making a start

I was sent a review copy of Lynne Baab's latest book - The Power of Listening - about a month or two ago. With one thing and another, I haven't had time to get into it properly, but I've dipped into it over the last few days, just to get the feel of it, in particular chapter 8 The Listening Toolbox, and chapter 9, Anxiety and Listening. Because I do a little pastoral supervision work, these chapters have both proved useful in terms of reminding me about the skills required for listening in a particular situation (supervision) and listening to people in general, in conversation, whether it's a conversation that's skimming the surface, plumbing the depths, or just being enjoyable.

It's very easy to put yourself at the centre of a conversation, and after having lunch yesterday with a group of people I know reasonably well, and travelling an hour to the venue and another hour back again, I had some opportunities to consider how I was doing in the listening area. Not 100% marks, maybe, but reasonably high. I enjoy talking with people about what they're doing, finding out more about them, hearing their views. Like so many conversationalists, however, I have to watch that I'm listening to what they're saying, and not preparing to put my oar in while they're still talking. Getting the balance right can be tricky.

Of course, it's not enjoyable to 'converse' with someone who spends the entire time talking about themselves (unless that's what the conversation is intended to be about) but equally it's not enjoyable for the other person in a conversation to feel that as soon as they've told you something you come in and 'top' their story with something you think is better. It's so easy to dredge up some old story
you think is relevant to the topic, give it some frills and make it the focus.

Anyway, thanks, Lynne, for a book that's helping in this department. Even though I've read it out of order, I'll get back to the rest as soon as I can!

A Pensioner's Morning

Just a typical enough day in the life of a retired person...

1. Walked to town for an appointment at 9.30 with Work and Income. I arrived early, but on Wednesdays they don't open till 9.30 so had to shelter from the light rain with several other people who'd arrived early.  Had to explain to the person I see each time that W&I had got it wrong.  He agreed, and sorted it out (I hope), but still didn't answer my question as to why, if I'm forced to send in an annual review, W&I then chooses to ignore the figures and bases their information on the previous year's figures!  I said someone needed a slap on the hand.  He didn't disagree.  After two months my wife and I still haven't discovered what's going to be deducted each fortnight from our pensions to compensate for the fact that we earned too much money last year over our allowed $100 per week.  That's $100 between us, not each.

2. It hadn't been raining when I walked down.  It was definitely raining when I came out of the office and I had to run (yes, run) from verandah to verandah, and finally popped into a two-dollar shop where I bought a $6.90 umbrella.  Apparently inflation now means that a $2 shop is actually a $6.90 shop.  Still, it kept me drier, and at $6.90 some poor person somewhere in the world is getting a fraction more income per day than if the umbrellas were $2.

3. Caught the bus home again.  Fortunately the timetables have changed and so the Kenmure bus that would normally precede my own Balaclava bus by a couple of minutes, preceded it by ten, and I was able to get home earlier. As it happened there were two Kenmure buses at the stop at the same time.  Don't ask. 

4. Came home, had a coffee, and then straight into a practice for the up and coming National Brass Band Competitions to be held in New Plymouth in a couple of weeks.  The cornet player is shouting me the trip to New Plymouth (as he shouted me a trip to Australia last year).  Plainly I'm still capable of playing a few notes on the piano in the right order.

5. The cornet player and his wife, after the practice, dropped me back down to town, this time with my old umbrella, which is about twice as big as the $6.90 one I bought earlier, and actually keeps the rain off more than just my head.  (Not that I was ungrateful for the smaller umbrella.)  I then went to a meeting with the group of people who were on the CAIRA Supervision course with me a couple of years ago.  We meet roughly once a month for about an hour to catch up on how we're doing in our pastoral supervision of various people.  Ate a savoury scone and drank coffee.  Discussed re-registering (which is due) and Interactive Drawing Therapy, which one of our group had learned about at a course.  Sounds like an interesting approach, and he's going to give us a chance to experiment with it next time we meet.

6. Had some time to spare (you know, that spare time retired people have oodles of) and so went and had a coffee with another member of the group.  Realised this was the third coffee in a row.  We are former work collegues, so caught up a bit on who's now doing what, and on our respective families. 

7. Sorted out various books on the Kindle into folders while travelling home on the bus (again).  This time a Balaclava, which picked me up outside the coffee shop and dropped me outside my house.  So convenient! 

8. Home.  Perhaps time for a short kip once I've posted this....