Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Listening Fills Our Emptiness


Listening Fills Our Emptiness

I have been writing a blog for sometime and today it occurred to me that listening fills our emptiness. I wonder how I can write a listening blog. Since my blog entries have no comments from readers, I wonder if anyone reads what I write.
I thought about that and I also saw that a true listener is not filled with his/her own words. In fact, a true listener is a blank page, and that allows him or her tp focus completely on what the other person is saying, and see the para language, the nonverbal messages that add meaning. Should a blog be a blank page?

Those who speak to us require some feedback, just enough to encourage the other person to share his/her thoughts, but not some much that the flow of the other person's communication is interrupted Effective and fulfilling listening takes practice. Many interactions will be short, but meaningful. A message that is too long may lose the attention of the listener, even an experienced listener.

I went shopping and I noticed the enthusiasm of the woman who was assisting the check out clerk. She had very short hair, shorter than a crew cut and I said to her, "I like your hair," She ran her hand across the top of her head and said,"Thank you." I asked her if she liked her job and she answered, "I applied when I was living in Seattle, and they hired me on the spot. I moved my husband anf family so I could work here."

This wasn't an ordinary company. Those that they hire start at $11 an hour. Getting her new job was a major event in her life. It required her to move a long way from her home and start a new job. Her enthusiasm flowed from her new job, and she seemed to love her job. It was obvious that the company gota good deal and a great worker.

A lot of people don't seem to have the time to talk or listen. They are too busy.
It seems like the times when men sat together smoking their pipes and sharing with each other has ended. Perhaps they are like the dragon, in my picture. relaxing and smoking his pipe. He is alone and his scales protect him.

Curtis

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