I need a new phone. This one is glitching. It’s probably from the many falls and cracks and what have you. So I call the claim company because it’s new and I’m paying insurance on it. They want account information, of course, but my ex is the account holder, even though I pay my own bill and I am on the account as well.
I ask the agent what other information will be needed so I don’t have to converse with him more than once and she doesn’t answer my question. I repeat my question slower and louder, which I tend to do when people irritate me. I can cop to it. Not proud.
She then gets an attitude with me but still doesn’t answer me so I ask a third time, with unnecessary punctuation and she finally answers me angrily. If she had simply answered my question the first time none of that would have needed to transpire.
I get it. We are locked into this stressful world where we are always waiting to talk, or rather in our own head with our own thoughts and agenda. I totally get it.
Listening is a lost art. I enjoy and am grateful when people take the time to stop what they are doing and listen to me intently. Because even then, truthfully, we are barely listening. Even when we give all of our attention, retention is devastatingly low. But at least during the exchange care and consideration is given and that is priceless in an of itself, I believe.
I always enjoy how deeply it moves people when I simply listen to them. When I stop every thought in my head, suspend all judgement, and just listen and witness where they are in life. It’s the simplest thing in the world but it always feel extraordinarily powerful. It’s like the best and easiest super-power we can access whenever we want to. Honoring what people are saying and letting them be and feel heard.
It surprises me when people outright lie or omit things when speaking to me. I can usually sense when something people say isn’t quite accurate but it is usually never my place to question it. For starters because it generally isn’t something that I need to care about and secondly because they, for whatever reason, want me to believe what they are saying.
I consider it like going on a small trip with someone to their make believe world. Sometimes it’s fun. Sometimes it’s drama. I always go with it, because it’s usually never a life or death matter and it just really doesn’t matter to me. It’s not generally going to affect me either way. If that’s the story people want me to hear and believe, fine. Ok.
I used to date a man that told tall tales. Like how he saw a marathon and impulsively decided to join it and ended up running all 26 kilometers with no prep and training. Just on a whim. Uhu. On and on he told these horribly outlandish stories.
I think he was trying to see at what point I would call his bullshit. Even his roommate would shake her head and roll her eyes and I would calmly just be like “Really?… hmmmm…ok.”. I’m guessing he was probably so used to being charming and women loved his clean cut, nice guy thing, that I stumped him a little. Especially since I’ve always been a “show me” kind of person and he wasn’t impressing me with his usual schtick. I think this puzzled him so much he just made his stories more and more elaborate and eye raising. Needless to say that never went anywhere.
He never got that it’s really easy to lie. Most people can do it by default. It’s the truth that is hard for most people. Most people couldn’t tell you their deepest, darkest truth if their life depended on it. Simply because it’s buried so deep inside. So….yea…..I don’t know. Honestly, it confuses me why people even say most of the things they say to begin with. Most dialogue seems completely wasteful to me.
I realize this may seem an odd stance being that I love connection and authenticity so much and dialogue is one way to achieve that. I just find that the more I simply listen and calm the hamster wheels of my own mind the more I can be authentically myself as well and respond with my heart. I’m not saying it’s easy always. But it’s so very richly worthwhile. No? 💋🥰💖🌈🙏🏽🌊