Listen up!

Listening, really listening, can make a difference.

S- likes to talk. She really likes to talk. She really, really likes to talk. Unfortunately, this sometimes means she talks to the exclusion of listening.

Not long ago S- and a friend went to the park and played golf. The friend drove her home afterward and dropped her off in the parking lot. S- climbed out of the car, closed the door, then leaned through the window to thank her friend and let him know she'd had fun.

After several minutes her friend told her he had to go. He had something else he needed to get to.

"Okay." . . . blah . . . blah . . . blah . . .

Half an hour later she was still leaning through the window. She was still talking. He tried again.

"Great. But I really have to go. Maybe you can finish your story next time we get together."

"Sure. One sec." . . . blah . . . blah . . . blah . . .

It took an hour and a half from the time her friend drove into the parking lot to drop her off until the time S- pulled out of the window and let him drive away. It had the effect of making her friend choose not to hang out with her the next time she asked, and leery of agreeing to hang out with her anytime in the future. And it only happened because she wasn't listening.

There are several reasons people don't listen well. Some of them are:

• Focusing on our own thoughts, ideas, and stories;
• Assuming we know what the other person is saying or thinking;
• Trying to come up with our response before the other person is finished speaking;
• Being too tired, hungry, etc., to give our full attention;
• Coming into a conversation with prejudices or other preconceived notions.

How can you spend just five minutes overcoming your barriers to active listening?

Pardon You

Forgive: To give up a feeling of resentment

A couple of years ago I took a university course called Psychology of Happiness. It was just a short course. One month, two credits. During the course we started discussing forgiveness. Should people always be forgiven? Are there some things that are unforgivable? Should anything be forgiven?

There was a lot of discussion. A lot of argument. Heated argument. There was a large, loud contingent of people who believe that there are definitely things that are unforgivable. Most of them had examples.

• abuse
• cheating in a relationship
• murder
• rape
• and more

We didn't discuss what forgiveness is.

The definition of forgiveness has nothing to do with accepting someone's bad behavior. It has nothing to do with keeping a toxic person in your life. It has nothing to do with giving approval to the person whom your forgiving. It, in fact, has nothing do with the other person.

Forgiveness, by definition, is letting go of your resentment.

You can forgive someone and still recognize that you need to distance yourself from them, or know that their behavior is such that you can no longer allow them in your life. That is, forgiving someone is something you do for yourself. You do it for your well-being, your state of mind, your health.

Can you take five minutes to let go of a resentment that you've been clinging to?

Re-View of the Day

Do you know what you did today? Look again.

I was hanging out with my nephew the other day. He's a teenager and, like most teenagers (like a lot of people, really), his mood can change faster than Lady Gaga changes outfits.

I was helping him with his math homework. This is often an exercise in patience and tact; he does not enjoy math. He'd stare at the problem. He'd write it down. He'd scrabble with the steps, scritching his pencil across the paper as he thought. And, eventually, he'd arrive at the answer. It was slow-going, but he was getting it.

And then we reached a problem that he couldn't figure out. He tried. I tried to help him through it. He tried again. I tried again. No luck. After struggling with it for a while, I told him to skip it, told him he could see if his teacher could explain it in class the next day. We continued with the rest of the assignment.

That night, as I was saying goodnight to him, the good mood vanished.

"This is stupid. I'm not tired. I shouldn't have to go to bed. This entire day has sucked!"

I sat on the floor next to his bed. (He's got a reverse-loft, so there's not enough room to sit on his bed without hitting my head.)

"Really? Nothing good has happened all day?"

He shook his head. I sighed. I started asking him about specific parts of his day. Things that had gone wrong, such as not figuring out the math problem. Things that had gone right -- figuring out all the other math problems. He managed to come up with a lot of things he'd done well during the day, and we talked about how to do more of those sorts of things more often. We also talked about how he might be able to avoid some of the problems he'd had throughout the day. Within five minutes, he'd calmed down. His day no longer seemed so bad. And the following day looked promising, too.

If you take five minutes to review your day, you can figure out what worked and how to repeat it, and figure out what didn't and how to avoid it.

Persephone, hold firm

If something doesn't feel right, even when it's an offer of help, maybe it isn't.

I'm moving tomorrow. A friend drove up from Colorado to help. When he made the offer he told me that he could get a good deal on a moving van and offered to rent one and drive it up here.

I hemmed and hawed. Wouldn't that end up being awfully expensive? Sometimes they charge per mile on top of the rental. He insisted it would be a good deal, but promised to give me prices before he reserved it. When he called me with them, they turned out to be just about the same as what a U-Haul truck would cost to rent. I suggested I just reserve the U-Haul so he wouldn't have to deal with it.

"But how would I get out there, then? Or, if I drive, what would I do with my car."

I had three suggestions: rent a car and drive up, take the bus, fly. He had arguments against each of them. Although I wasn't comfortable with the decision, I eventually agreed to leave the renting of the van to him.

He arrived yesterday. In a cargo van. Not a moving van, a cargo van. For the same price the U-Haul would have been. We've loaded it as full as we can, but there's a lot that won't fit. My vacuum. My shelves. My loveseat. And more. I have to leave them behind.

In the scheme of things, what I'm leaving behind is just stuff. It doesn't matter. But I shouldn't have to leave it. Had I held my ground and told my friend that I was uncomfortable with him renting the moving van, that I wanted to make sure I got the van I wanted, I wouldn't have to leave anything behind. He might have been annoyed, but not for long. I would have had to pay for him to fly out, but I'll end up spending more than that to replace what's being left.

It's my fault, and I'm annoyed with myself.

What can you stand firm on in just five minutes that may save you headaches or expense later?