Put Down Your Newspaper
by Susie Michelle
Cortright
Put
down your newspaper.
This is the clever
code my friend and her husband have been using as a notification to tune in to one
another. Its a great phrase even when especially when theres no
newspaper around. Its code for: This is important, so listen.
All parents know
what its like to say something and know that no one heard you, even when youre
speaking to a full room. Even when you get nods and murmurs in response.
When I was growing
up, we used to call it the Mom Frequency. The ability to tune in is apparently granted
automatically to all children when they reach a certain age. At the Mom Frequency,
anything kids dont want to hear is rendered completely inaudible.
Conveniently, the use of this frequency often extends into
adulthood, but its not innate.
Last weekend, we
took our 18-month-old daughter to her first movie, Fantasia 2000. For 74 minutes, her
world was dark but for the giant flashing images. Her world was quiet but for the stream
of violin, cello, and the occasional clarinet aimed directly at her little world.
The music
enveloped all 25 pounds of her. At each crescendo, her muscles tensed and she sat upright.
She listened with her entire being, body and soul.
She listens to
music the way we should listen to one another...with a connection as powerful and as
complete as a tightrope - not something we do as we fold the laundry, make PB&Js, and
run the vacuum.
Listening
ranks as one of the most important things we can do to nurture our relationships. It
fulfills a universal and basic human longing. It strengthens the bond among parents,
friends, children, and lovers.
When someone listens, really listens, we
know it. Our feelings are validated. All at once, we feel needed and appreciated and
understood.
As we age, our
ability to listen seems to ebb as the number of distractions flow. There are the external
distractions: the ambient noise. And there are the internal distractions: our own
scattered thoughts and ideas chewing away at the back of our minds. The pressure to
formulate some kind of response. The mistaken notion that the person speaking is asking
for advice.
Have you ever
participated in one such playgroup conversation? One mom proudly announces that her child
said his first word. Charlie said cheese! she bursts.
Well, Becky
says please.
Well, Sammy
says please pass the cheese.
And on it goes,
with the first mother feeling a bit deflated, and the other moms moving on to one-upping
each other on the length of their childs hair or their childs position on the
height chart, or the size of their childs shoes.
Mothers of
toddlers provide an especially fascinating study into the art of listening. During the
course of conversation, all such mothers must come and go to retrieve their wee ones from
the big-girl slide or to break up two toddlers engaged in a monosyllabic screeching match
over the rights to a Nerf ball.
When we return
together, almost invariably, a whole new conversation begins. Most of the time, the only
person aware of the shift was the person who was speaking last. Once again, this mom is
left feeling a bit deflated and the rest of the group is off to other things.
I started
observing these dynamics only since this topic popped up on my editorial calendar. In
doing so, I made one observation that was particularly difficult to swallow: I am among
the worst offenders in the group.
Like many of us, I
dont find the art of conversation terribly easy. I think many of us feel the
pressure to respond, so conversations become hard work. How much more nurturing it is to
sit back and listen, not panicking that were going to lose a turn to talk.
How much more
nurturing it is to settle in to the silence. Among friends adept at listening, this pause
is not awkward but proof that those across the table are absorbing what was said.
How much more
nurturing it is to listen than to continually offer advice or prove how you emerged from a
similar situation yourself.
How much more
nurturing it is to put down your newspaper.
Susie Michelle Cortright is the founder and publisher of
Momscape, an online magazine devoted to nurturing the nurturers. Visit her at http://www.momscape.com to escape in inspiring articles
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