Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force. The friends who listen to us are the ones we move toward. When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us unfold and expand.
—Anonymous
The greatest motivational act one person can do for another is to listen.
—Anonymous
This month the topic for Robert Hruzek’s group writing project is What I Learned From…Odd Jobs. Robert wants to hear about the strangest, most unusual job we’ve ever had. Since I’m a volunteer at heart, I’m not restricting myself to activities I’ve been paid for. I figure if it was something that required commitment for a reasonable length of time, it counts.
My most unusual job, then, was listening to an acquaintance for at least two hours a session, two or three times a week for several months. The woman in question was in her late 60s, had worked most of her life, and was facing retirement. It was time for her to move on, but she couldn’t imagine what she would do without work to structure her life. So she tackled the problem by talking through it. And when I say talking, that was it. She wanted no comments or other interruptions from me. My job was simply to listen the whole time.
If you’ve ever been in a situation like that, you know how hard it is to be just a listening post, with all of your own experience, thoughts and talents pushed aside. I sometimes felt I could easily have been replaced by a tape recorder or by a friendly pet.
How did I get into that situation?
I didn’t expect it to be like that. I assumed she would be thinking on her own and wanted someone to bounce ideas off of. That’s what works for me. I find changes are more fun when I try things and share the results with someone else. When I discovered she didn’t want that, I did try to make the interaction less mind-numbing for me. I actually brought a timer and suggested we take turns talking and listening. That idea lasted about ten minutes. Then she ignored the timer and kept talking.
Why Did I Continue?
So why didn’t I just call it quits? I asked myself that question more than once, and the answer was always: it felt like the right thing to do. The sessions were clearly doing her a lot of good, so I decided to keep going until she had made her transition. She wasn’t talking for the sake of talking, she was seriously working towards something. The process wasn’t going to go on forever. And, in fact, after several months she was started in her new life. She signed up for some courses at the local university and became involved in causes that she cared about.
What I Learned From the Experience
What did I learn? I learned how much I care about making a contribution, something to make this world a slightly friendlier, more loving place. I had always believed that one of the best ways to do that was to listen deeply to another person. But after this experience I learned that I have to pay attention to my own interests and talents, too. So I started looking for situations where I could be more than just a warm body, a listening post. I’m not at all sorry I had this experience, but I don’t feel obligated to ever do it again. Instead I’m living by my motto,
Find what you love to do and find a way to share it with others.
There are all sorts of ways of making a contribution. And there’s no rule that says you can’t have fun doing it.
What about you? What has been your most unusual job? Do you have an urge to make a contribution? If so, how do you go about it? Please share your thoughts and experience in the comments section.
Thanks to bikehikebabe for commenting on last week’s post.
This post is also part of Marcus Goodyear’s Lessons From Odd Jobs group writing project.
I can’t think of my most unusual job. Probably because I did it so much that it no longer seemed unusual.
“Husbands don’t listen to their wives.” Wives that stay home don’t talk to any adults all day & can babble on & on to husbands when they come home. “Get a life” doesn’t work because their life IS staying home with the kids, without talking to adults. Communicate with your children. Remember Jean asking her baby why she seemed to have had a bad day. Baby said amya, mya,mya,mya,mya,mya,mya…..& Jean listened.
bikehikebabe,
Yes, often the most difficult period of marriage is when the kids are young. On the other hand, when Kaitlin was little she loved to listen to me. It’s fun to talk out loud. I’m trying to train myself to do it more now even though I work alone most of the time. That’s a topic for a future post!
As always, thank you for coming by! And thank you for catching the typo, which I have duly corrected.
Jean, sounds like you learned the hardest lesson of all – to just listen. You’re actually ‘way ahead of most of us, now!
Thanks for the contribution to WILF!
Cheers!
Tom’s mother said she talks to herself. That was when she got very old. I didn’t use to do that, but now do. With all my exercise I’m so tired & stiff from my stretches that I tell myself what to do—OUT LOUD.
Pingback: Middle Zone Musings » All Entries: What I Learned From Odd Jobs
This is a lesson I still have to learn. Just last night I found myself trying to give advice when my wife really just wanted me to listen. And our kids are young, too…
Hi Mark: It’s a well known fact that men want to fix things–find a solution. Women just want them to listen. I learned my lesson about 30 years ago when I wanted to fix a daughter’s problem. She told me then, she didn’t want advice. Just wanted to be heard.
bikehikebabe,
Thanks for your comment about talking and listening to yourself. And for your response to Mark’s comment. My next post at Cheerful Monk will be about talking to ourselves, so I really appreciate your example of when you do it.
Mark,
Some of my favorite all time memories was when my daughter was little and we would snuggle in bed at night, talking about anything that took her fancy. I still miss that sometimes.
Pingback: The Original “Odd Jobs” Master: Nancy Rica Schiff » article » What Would Dad Say
Jean A friend told me that her therapist had a poster on the wall of her office saying ” what you need is a good listening to” – I love that. How good does it feel to be listened to – or how bad when you aren’t. I appeciate your listening in this story probably went above and beyond but what a gift you gave that lady.
Jackie
Jackie,
It was clear she was getting a lot out of it, so it really was one of the best uses of my time in that period of my life. Thanks for coming by!
Pingback: cheerfulmonk.com » An Unexpected Source of Power…the Sound of Your Own Voice
Pingback: Results from the What I Learned From Odd Jobs Group Writing Project } Group Writing Projects
Pingback: My Brain Is My Favorite Toy — cheerfulmonk.com
Jean, what a surprise! I did not know that you had another blog going. I am glad that I posted about my listening experience and got to this post. Thank you.
I can completely relate to your experience.
Let me share another experience/s that I had a couple of years ago.
I got involved with the local chapter of the Multiple Sclerosis Society through a good friend. For one one year I ran their local office as a volunteer and visited all the local patients quite frequently. This disease not only affects the person concerned, it also affects the entire family and the care givers, as you perhaps know.
I had to listen to both the patients and the care givers and emotionally it was one of the most draining periods of my life. I had to give up to take up an assignment about a thousand kilometers away and stopped my association with the MSS. Despite now being back and repeated requests from them to join up again, I simply do not have the nerve, if that is the word to join again.
I now restrict myself to being a good neighbor and friend to some friends who need help apart from what I have to do at home. This is all that I am able to handle now.
rummuser,
I agree that you’re handling more than enough being a care giver. You need to take care of yourself, too.
MS is a horrible disease. My sister-in-law recently died from it. Her obituary is at http://www.haskins.yale.edu/browman/cpb_obit.pdf