Playwright George Bernard Shaw once said, “The single biggest problem in communication is the illusion that it has taken place.”
Just because words intended for your ears have left my mouth, does not mean you heard what I said, or even understood what I meant. Equally, I may not understand the impact of my words on you, the emotional wake I leave behind. In fact, this may be foreign country for my level of awareness and if you used those words with me, I would not have a clue what you are talking about. All hocus-pocus anyway, if you had asked me.
‘How can you say that, Avis?’ one of my managers would chide me when I was too forthright and offended someone’s sensibilities at work. I forgot the specific incident – I just remember hearing that particular phrase a number of times and not just from that particular manager; friends would also sometimes make similar comments.
It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it
I knew the way you talked to someone mattered. No doubt you’ve often heard, ‘It’s not what you say, it’s how you say it.’ I figured I had it all worked out. I communicated openly and honestly and was not afraid to speak the truth.
‘Why doesn’t that man just shut up!’ This one nearly got me fired.
‘How dare you discuss my project with the business and agree changes when I am not even there?’ To the manager mentioned earlier.
‘Back off! Give me a chance to investigate! Stop calling me every 5 minutes! When I have something to tell you, I’ll call you!’ To an operator one night when I was called out when a computer system crashed.
I did not see the problem. I was right, that was what mattered and I let people know in no uncertain terms. I communicated my needs the only way I knew how – calling a spade a spade and venting my irritation. I was honest and open; said what needed to be said and did not hold back on the emotion.
It might have been helpful if I had practiced that old adage “I don’t care how much you know until I know how much you care” and showed some care for the other person. In each of those examples, the only person I cared about was me. Not for a minute did I think how I might come across, why they behaved the way they did or that I had in any way contributed to the problem. I was the only one I was thinking of.
Yet it can be so simple to change things as this story demonstrates:
The Abbot and the Rabbi
At a monastery, the abbot and monks were dismayed that fewer and fewer people were visiting. The monks not only wanted to share their blessings but also relied on the patronage of visitors to help keep up the property.
Each month the abbot would have dinner with a local rabbi. At one such dinner the abbot asked the rabbi for advice on how to address the monastery’s problem. The rabbi said he was having similar challenges at his temple but could offer no obvious solutions. Getting up to leave, the rabbi paused, turned, looked directly at the abbot and said, “One of you is the messiah.” Then he said goodbye and went on his way.
The next morning the monks were eager to hear what wisdom the rabbi had to offer. The abbot related that the rabbi had given no specific advice, he just cryptically said, “One of you is the messiah.”
The statement haunted the monks as they went about their chores and it jump-started their curiosity. They began thinking about one another differently, and their actions reflected this. They became more positive in their affirmations of themselves, avoided gossip, and spoke directly, with honesty and love, to one another, not knowing which one of them was the messiah. Before long the energy in the monastery seemed to build, and more and more people started visiting. Soon the monastery began to thrive again as visitors came from near and far, drawn by its renewed vitality and the joy that radiated from the monks.
A shift in perspective
Yes, we can be brutally honest, saying what we think and feel as long as we do it with consideration for others on a bed-rock of mutual respect and mutual care. A simple shift in perspective, that the person you’re talking to might be the messiah, brought about a change in the way the monks treated each other. More love, more respect.
What if you keep that thought in mind next time you have a conversation, especially if it is a rocky conversation: the person you’re speaking to may be the messiah. How will it change what you think, what you say and what you do?
