Communication Glitches

Last night's storms took away our cable, so no internet for me and a quiet night on Blogspot. Since we are expecting more storms tonight, I thought I had better post while the posting is good; here goes.

I have typically been a sounding board to friends; often asking pointed questions to help to guide someone through a quandary and into their own solutions.  I was good at it and it made me feel useful. Motherhood changed me; I became a problems solver. Hungry, I will feed you. Hurt, I will bind and comfort you. Sad, I will dry your tears and pat your hand, and on and on.  I morphed into someone who met needs and in so doing became someone who attended to the guessing game of What's Your Problem instead of "What's My Line."  In losing myself to a role, I diminished my ability to elicit from others and lost my knack for guiding them or myself.

Guiding through a state of confusion is a wonderful program of walking with someone; sometimes just ahead but more often, side by side.  The two critical tools are a loving knowledge of the person and listening. Listening in particular diminished for me with parenting.  It began in the infant stage when cries were always open for interpretation only; non verbal, you learn to distinguish need by tone, intensity and pitch.  I am pretty good at that with spoken language as well.  With infants my goal was always fix it, fix it, fix it and that became my habit. With young children and teenagers the age old "Because I said so!" reared its' necessary ugly head and it too, became habit. Reasoning with terrorists, teenagers and critters can be fool-hearty.

Friends do not need repair, they need a soft place to land; a place made out of ears and heart.  As disgusting an image as that is, the reality is true.  My friends of late have been barraged with responses from me of an "I can fix that" nature, and have lovingly listened while I waxed profound.  In truth, I am not that well informed as to solve their issues with a band aid; not very surprised are you.  Now that we are older, solutions are not readily, if ever, available.  Time, wear , beliefs and experience often preclude them and rather than guiding through murk into light, we walk together through thickets without escapes.

The joy of walking side by side, sometimes clearing a slightly wider path, or chipping at thorns, is the new course.  I don't have a the answers to the questions and my friends don't expect any, but having company is comfort, salve, joy and laughter we can share.

"Lend me your ears" is an intimate request, the result of which is the deepening of bonds well heeled in experience.