Do I Hear You?

In our neighborhood, we have a conflict brewing between a social agency and the community. The agency director said," It is incredible how many times we can say the same thing, and we still aren't understood." Members of the community suggest that the recent illegal activities and a rash of interpersonal conflicts are because the agency isn't listening to their concerns. This is a sad state, and I am sure both sides feel frustrated and blame each other. Blame creates distance, and distance makes compromise impossible. We need ways to bring people into proximity, give them permission and space to be heard, and listen with generosity.

It got me wondering how many times, each day, I say something that someone else hears differently than I intended. I wonder how many times I hear what I expect to hear rather than what is being said. I wonder how much of the conflict in our world is through misinterpretation. Are we intentionally plugging our ears and shouting across streets, council chambers, and even wider chasms?

I recognize that my ears aren't biased, but my brain sure can be. Sound vibrates in my ears and sends raw data to my brain. Once received in my brain, the total of my experiences determines how I understand the words, especially ones that carry the potential for strong emotions. In the conflict above- homeless, domestic violence, and Nimbyism are three words that have become inflammatory, and it is likely little to change the impressions. In this case, there were many earlier actions that one of the parties could have taken, but they entered into the 'discussion' believing they had 'right' on their side and didn't need to be transparent. Knowing you are right or in the right is a curse. It evaporates curiosity, curbs caring and creates conflict where cooperation might be possible. Throw in a worldwide pandemic and contentious restrictions, and a battle is just waiting to start.

In my life, I carry the past into my understanding of the present, but I bring my current state as well. If I am cranky, I am less amenable, and my ear to brain pathway gets narrow and prejudiced. If I am hungry, happy, tired, or ill the path changes again. Disposition drives disputes, and my propensity for provocation becomes a liability rather than an asset. My mantra, "I am; therefore, I ask questions." has lost some of its ability to facilitate respectful and challenging dialogue when individuals and communities are on edge.

I am not a brain expert, but it seems to me that I need to ask, in situations where the debate is circular," Am I hearing what you are saying?" and then honestly realize that I'm not. It is my responsibility to understand, so I need to ask questions to clarify rather than look for ways to score points to win. If I suspect that my words aren't landing, then, again, it is my responsibility to restate the position to be understood without anger, arrogance, or malice. If I am not 'hearing' of 'being heard,' it is up to me to set it right.

"Deep listening is the kind of listening that can help relieve the suffering of another person. You can call it compassionate listening. You listen with only one purpose: to help him or her to empty his heart." Tich Nhat Hanh

Most days, I don't hear anything because I hear everything.

Noise proves nothing. Often a hen who has merely laid an egg cackles as if she laid an asteroid. ~ Mark Twain

Most of what occupies me (as I suspect) is noise. If I thought noise-canceling headphones really did what they promise, I would invest in some for my ears and my eyes, but they seem just to dampen the din.

Is there a place in the world' where the filters screen out the clamor and still allow the clever, the charm, the caring, the charismatic, the cute and the curious through? Do I need to get past the fear of missing out (FOMO) and the addiction to notifications and begin censoring others and myself?

Make Today Remarkable, by Rehearing,

B