Conversations

One starts the conversation and the other person is thinking of his response. As soon as there is an opening, the other person starts talking while the supposed listener is thinking of what he will say next. This continues until they part, each pleased at what they said, neither having listened nor understood what the other had to say.

A good listener is often considered a good friend.
Example:
“Don, I’ve got a problem and need your help. Have you got a few minutes?”
“Yes, of course. What’s the problem?”
Steve begins to explain his situation in detail while Don listens attentively, often interjecting “Hmmmm.”
“I know what you’re thinking,” says Steve, but what you don’t understand is…“
“Interesting,” says Don.
“What makes this problem so difficult to solve is the fact that…“
“Wow,” says Don.
“Yes, it is a problem, and what I was thinking to do is…“
“Sounds like a solution,” says Don.
“Yes, I think that’s what I’ll do. I think it is the solution. Thanks. You always know how to help me.”
“No problem. Glad I could assist,” said Don.

Sounds like a typical conversation.

It also sounds as though the listener knows enough not to offer a solution to the problem. When one states a solution and the other takes it, it makes the listener responsible for the out come. On the other hand, if the listener comes up with a few options, it is up to the other person to make the choice on his own.

I agree, Zada, and I think most people don't really want advice so much as they want someone to listen while they explore their options.

Ann

That's true Ann.
The example I gave was a great learning experience for me. An Air Force buddy always came to me with his problems. All he wanted was for someone to listen. I usually just make exclamations like, "Wow, Hmmm or Geeesh." I never offered an opinion and he thought I was brilliant. He solved his own problems. He once told someone that he enjoyed talking with me - that I was a good conversationalist.

Is it any wonder that people go to phychiatrists and pay them to listen? Others are too prone to offer opinions and then get into an argument about it. And as Zada says, if you give an opinion, and it doesn't work out, they have someone to blame.

There's a technique called Active Listening where, instead of offering advice/your opinion, you simply acknowledge what the person said or restate it in similar words so they know that you have understood their point.

I believe it's true that most people aren't seeking a solution when they share a problem, but they do want someone else to understand and offer support. Even if that is simply an acknowledgement that a situation is challenging.

Merri,

That's a technique we learn as teachers for when students come to us with problems. I used it on my own children as well. The other day Susan mentioned that, as a counselor for HS students, she still relies on that old question she got from me: "Wow, you have a real problem. What do you think you could do to solve it?"

Ann

You people are wimpy. I would have said, "Where'd you get a nutty idea like that?"
"Man, you're stupid. Here's how I'd do it."
"Did your mama drop you on your head when you were a baby? That's the craziest idea I ever heard."

Of course that's what you'd say, Dick!

As a counselor, I did not have one philosophy of helping. I just listened a lot, not an easy thing on a messageboard, unless you count reading lots of posts, but it is difficult to have eye contact and nod.

My other talent was I had a good memory. Someone would come back after a couple of years and I'd ask how their cat Sox was. I would not have even thought of this person's cat, but when they entered the room all this info came into my head, and they felt good I remembered about them.

I would use the listening techniques with my kids, like "it sounds like you are angry" and they'd say, "Don't social work me."

Carol

Your kids got too smart, Carol. Sounding boards are great when you can find one you can trust. Sometimes a person just needs to vent, and get things into perspective.

I do that Zada. Then I thank people for listening. It is amazing what benefit venting can have.

Sometimes I used to write letters I would not send. I always felt much better after writing them.

Carol

Hubby always says, "don't use that psychobull.... on me!" I think that by listening that is just what we are doing. At least a form of it.

I was a professional psychotherapist/counselor/social worker. Every couple of months I go out to lunch with the woman who is still office manager/executive director at the mental health center I used to own. The other day we talked about her first day on the job and how she came sobbing into my office and said, "I can't do this job. It is too sad. Those people are really hurting." That was 22 years ago and she is still there.

We decided we couldn't even put into words how you stop sobbing about the hurting people while feeling compassion and empathy. I am a writer. I have no idea how to really explain that. It is a sort of detachment but not really, it is a healthy detachment that keeps one strong and able to help.

And I retired and studied history and did other things. But in studying I was drawn to the stories of the people. I had been writing stories of people for twenty years, stories that were put in locked cabinets and eventually shredded for privacy.

And we talked about those people, how we know so much and it can only be in our minds, how we hold many secrets. Being in a mental health profession in a small town is not easy. You go places and people are judging and you think, "You only know half the story." Being in rural health you do not specialize but deal with all sorts of problems and are there for all sorts of people.

I try very hard not to be a counselor anymore. I try to detach. I don't social work my children, but I listen, and sometimes I'll say things like, "He is grieving a great loss. Sometimes people are difficult during those times."

I want to be retired. I want to write history but am drawn to the personal stories of those I read about in history books.

For many months while ill, no one brought me anything to listen to. If there were any problems in their lives, they didn't tell me. I was sort of in a bubble. But now that I am walking and out and about, I am a fish out of water.

I try very hard not to "social work" anyone here. I just like being part of the group.

Carol

Abe F. March wrote:

A good listener is often considered a good friend.

That's so true, and the entire post should be included in every marriage guide.

During my marriage, my husband was willing to listen when I had a problem. The only problem was that he'd listen a couple of minutes, then cut me off by telling me what I should do. The result? I felt frustrated and emotionally detached, even if the advice was good. And I never felt he was a good listener.

Women instinctively know how to listen. We nod our heads and occasionally say, "I understand," and let the other person talk and talk and talk. That's why women seek other women when upset - we need someone to simply listen.

Brenda Hill wrote:

That's why women seek other women when upset - we need someone to simply listen.

Boy, you sure could have fooled me. Seems to me we men are always listening.

Quote :

I would use the listening techniques with my kids, like "it sounds like you are angry" and they'd say, "Don't social work me."

Carol

I hear that! My kids called me the "armchair psychologist." I don't have any real credentials, just read a lot. They complained; Susan once wrote an essay about it for her HS English class. The last sentence was, "At least I always knew how to find my crayons." She got an "A."

Ann

Dick wrote:

Quote :

Boy, you sure could have fooled me. Seems to me we men are always listening.

Men "listen" in the same manner Abe implied in his OP:

Quote :

...the supposed listener [has neither] listened nor understood what the other had to say.

Ann

Shame on you, Ann! I just nod in agreement. . .or sometimes I just nod off.

...what?

My mom, being the powerhouse, claimed the absolute right to construct the family's perception of reality. She insisted, though, that we verbally agree. One of her most frequent statements was, "Isn't that right, Clarence." This was not a question. The length of time between her declaration and his expected "Yes, that's right," was always a measure of his momentary willingness to risk total chaos.

Brenda Hill wrote:

Women instinctively know how to listen. We nod our heads and occasionally say, "I understand," and let the other person talk and talk and talk. That's why women seek other women when upset - we need someone to simply listen.

My observation is that women do a lot of talking "at" each other, especially when moms of small kids get together. They talk at each other about stuff nobody but themselves could possibly care about, and just "mmmhmmm" each other.

When you only have people with vocabularies of 100 words or less, it is good to talk to adults. However, I wanted to have conversations about the world, philosophy, etc.

From some writing:
I found myself missing the almost constant peer camaraderie I had at college, either in n a sorority house with fifteen other women, or part of small classes where there were always in-depth discussions. In college, my husband and I had similar lives, but now they were very different. I found myself spending my time in activities such as cleaning, cooking, washing clothes and taking care of babies. The taking care of babies was the fun part, and the others were quite necessary for that endearing endeavor, but quite different than college classes or my husband's flying airplanes faster than the speed of sound. I felt an underlying unspoken need to find a way to let go of the past and embrace the future, while keeping all I had learned and loved.

Good points, Carol. Life is a continuous path of leaving things we enjoy behind.

I think I have met Ann's mother. Several times.