Express Yourself!

Barbara: So easy, right? Just say it. Be confident, be honest. People will listen. They will get it. Right?

But what if it’s not so straightforward as all that???

The other day I was trying to explain something to Deb. (Okay, it was about how to link our blog to her Facebook account. And you already know how the FB is making Deb freak a little bit. So I wanted to be deft.) Now, I’ve worked very hard to learn how to express myself as clearly as I can. You who know me only from the blog can’t really appreciate just how tangent-y and convoluted my spoken word can be. I know I can be obtuse here, but at least I have the luxury of reading, re-reading, and editing to help me get as close as I can to my intended meaning. But all bets are off when I am in full ramble-mode.

So there’s me trying to explain something technical to Deb. I'm not good with the technical, so I was nervous. Keep it simple, I remind myself. Be clear. So what do I start with?: “There’s this glitch and I have no idea how to fix it.” These were literally the first words out of my mouth. I haven’t even told her what to do yet and already I’ve planted this very loaded piece of information in her head. So I ramble on: “Click on the Facebook link,” “find a good thumbnail,” “delete the comment,” “add a headline,” “click share”. Well, Deb—quite naturally—is still trying to wrap her mind around this “glitch that has not ever been solved". She wants to help figure it out, you see, or find someone who can. But I keep trying to sweep over this glitch business (“Why is she worrying so much about it? It’s not that big a deal.”). And then I realize—or rather, Deb explains to me—that I have set up our whole conversation around the existence of a relentless, irritating, unsolvable GLITCH. Who wouldn’t worry about it?! I started all over again with my explanation (sans “glitch”) and all ended well … but it got me thinking.

This whole conversation reminded me how easily we needlessly complicate things when we speak to each other. Warning people about dire consequences before I’ve put anything in context is my thing, I know this. But I think we all have our things.

A big one I’ve noticed (and of which I am also guilty) is OVER-EXPLAINING. The human mind is incredibly resilient. After a life long of reading––whether it’s books, newspapers, magazines, Facebook messages or email––we are very adept at extrapolating information from a few key words. But many of us (yes, me me ME!) over-explain because we don’t trust this process. And also because (I think) we’re so worried we won’t be heard or trusted or understood.

So, yes, we have to express ourselves. But we also have to keep honing this tricky skill too, don’t you think?

Deb:  This happens to my husband and I all the time. We are each clear about the intention of our point and yet we find ourselves bonking heads. Each of us trying not to say to the other either “am I crazy here” or “are you nuts?” I think it’s because we both have our line of thinking mapped out for us and we do not want to be swayed for fear that we lose our train of thought. Barb kept saying, “No wait, let me go over it again,” assuming I did not understand, instead of looking at the big picture of her statement, “There is a glitch that we can’t solve,” which is what I was focusing on.

I am also guilty of over explaining. I will say to someone, “Oh sorry I can’t be at the meeting because you see (bla bla details)(bla details reasons)( bla reasons excuses bla). Lately I am trying very hard with a good deal of success to stop that. “I can’t be at the meeting, sorry.” Feels so good.

But in your case, Barb, you were over explaining and repeating because you thought I honestly did not get it, which is a sweet reason for over explaining. Because, well, you are sweet.

At any rate, I got it, thanks to you. And what I would normally say here is, “Oh thanks for explaining because you see I just didn’t understand the (bla bla) and I couldn’t (more useless facts) because you see I (extraneous details) and so I (bla bla friggin bla). But instead, I’ll just say “Thanks. I get it now. xo”

When Seeing Isn't Believing

Barbara: I remember watching the film What The Bleep Do We Know? several years ago. I don’t know if any of you have seen it, but it’s an interesting look into the quantum physics of life. It’s very accessible and easy to watch and understand, but also very hypothetical, so you can grain-of-salt everything in it. But we loved the questions the filmmakers posed and some of the arguments their scientists and experts offered, and we had lots of really fascinating family discussions about the theories. 

One theory that made the strongest, most lasting impression on me (and it’s been a while since I’ve seen it, so I may be screwing it up) was that if we have no experience with something, we can’t (or have great difficulty) processing it. They gave the example of Columbus and his ships arriving on the Bahamian shores for the first time. Apparently, an island village populated by hundreds of indigenous people was located in direct line of their arrival. Columbus’s ships would have been well within sight of the villagers while the ships approached and then anchored and before the European sailors came ashore and the two different peoples finally made initial contact. But apparently the villagers DID NOT SEE THE SHIPS. Even though these were enormous vessels, and even though they were anchored for DAYS! Only the villagers’ shaman was finally able to discern that there was something there, and he had to explain to the villagers what he saw before they could see—and therefore process––them. HUGE SHIPS. THREE OF THEM. (Now, please don’t ask me how our historians know this fact—is this something passed down through stories or through detailed accounts? I don’t remember this being addressed in the film.) 

I was blown away by this fact. That you could see something, but NOT see it if you didn’t understand it. I think the film put forth the notion that if aliens indeed came among us, we might not see them because we wouldn’t understand them. Okay, so that’s my long-winded set-up for my own experience: 

My husband and I were in a deep sleep one night. Suddenly, I was jolted awake—by the sound of faint but insistent rustling. I couldn’t figure out what it was. I wondered if I was hearing a mouse that had somehow infiltrated our to-that-point rodent-free fortress. I was apoplectic. Don’t think I need to explain such abstract fear to any of you? Well, I reached over and turned on my bedside light because I had to see what I was dealing with (and then get my husband to actually deal with it). And then I saw it––this fat, little CREATURE on the ground near our bedroom door, just sitting there, staring off into space. I have had experience with mice (our last house was a hell-hole for them), and this was NOT a mouse. And it seemed way too round to be a rat (god forbid). It felt rodent-like, but for the life of me, I COULD NOT identify what it was. To make matters worse, my husband was still fast asleep, not yet on his white horse ready to rescue me from this mysterious infiltration. Would this creature still rise up and attack me? Would it scurry into my walls to forever torment me with its midnight rustlings? Terrified, I nudged hubby awake. 

Groggy and eminently calm, P. looked up and said: “What’s Cinnamon doing on the floor?” What? … Cinnamon? … Really? And then I saw the creature for what it was: our younger daughter’s beloved, adorable, and slightly manic hamster, Cinnamon—who had lived with us for almost TWO YEARS! Somehow M. had left the cage unlatched and Cinnamon, poor thing, in her all-night exploring frenzy, had bumped against the open door of her cage and tumbled off the shelf where the cage is perched and landed in a pile of M.’s clothes (the one time I was THRILLED she doesn’t throw her dirty clothes in the hamper) and decided, what the hell, she was going to explore the ol’ household for posterity’s sake. 

Thank goodness, Cinnamon was none the worse for her little adventure, but I have still not gotten over that utterly disorienting feeling of confusion I experienced on looking and looking and LOOKING at her and not understanding what the hell I was seeing. 

So, point is, don’t ever ask me what’s what because what the bleep do I know? 

Deb: Incredible! They could not see what they just could not take in. There are mornings in front of the mirror like that for me.

We were in the Congo in January and we were deep in the jungle in a very small village. This village just happened to be in a flight path and we asked our interpreter what the kids in the village thought of the planes flying overhead all day and he said that they think they are big birds. They just can’t take the truth in.

And from Cinnamon the Hamster’s POV, I’m sure he was staring out in space thinking, “If I knew the humans were unconscious when it gets dark, I would have partied like this long ago!”