Hearing My Truth >>>
In a much more common example, one you may more readily relate with, I recall while looking for a job last year feeling highly motivated to work part time for a shop whose manager seemed to share a lot of the same business values as I did.
Having applied and interviewed with her, I remember the immense discouragement that came up for me in hearing a voicemail from her saying that, as things were, the job I was applying for may not be what I was really looking for.
Rather than walk away from that experience with the sense that I wasn’t heard for how much I wanted the job and how important it was to me to be seen for that, I called her up almost immediately (having breathed and sat with myself first around what I really wanted from the conversation) and had the following dialogue:
Manager: Oh, hi, Kelsey! I’m sorry things just didn’t work out for us here.
Kelsey: Listen, I really want you to hear how much I’m wanting this job. I’m willing to make my schedule work in a way that makes me more available to you or even start with less pay. I guess I just wanted to be sure you understood how much I was enjoying the idea of working for you, because I got a sense that we really care about some of the same things when it comes to doing business with people.
Manager: Oh… Well. You know, I honestly didn’t know it was that important to you. I was under the impression that if these particular hours we talked about weren’t that conducive to your schedule then you’d rather look elsewhere…
Based on her interpretation of our prior interactions, the manager had assumed that I wasn’t interested enough in the job to want to serve her needs for greater reliability with time and work. On the contrary, I was, and having a conversation where our needs and feelings were on the table prevented either of us from misunderstanding each other’s intentions in the relationship.
An important aspect to the way I approached this conversation that I mentioned was that I sat with myself beforehand and confirmed that I was in a place to hear “no” if that is how she responded (and from there decide whether to continue pursuing the matter or begin the process of mourning and acceptance around it not working out as I’d hoped).
Even at times when we are experiencing urgency in our situation and imagine having little time to really check in with ourselves beforehand, it is of critical importance to me to at least slow down the interaction enough to make this check in possible, despite someone may be waiting for our response. (There are certainly cases where the other person isn’t willing to wait for us in this way, but it is more often the case that this step is both possible and necessary for deeper listening or authentic expression.)
And in case you were wondering, I did get the job thanks to this conversation, and better yet started out on the foot of deeper connection with my manager than I might have otherwise because of my willingness to be authentic and empathic with her.
I guess would be as Kierkegaard (spelling?) an authentic person. He gives an example of an authentic person as: a man taking a walk before dinner. As he walks he thinks of his wife who is cooking him dinner. He envisions her making a pot roast with potatoes. He relishes the idea of the pot roast, since it is his favorite. He then returns home to find a meat loaf on the table for dinner. He sits down and eats the meat loaf with al the relish he would have had if it was pot roast and praises his wife’s cooking as if she had prepared pot roast. As an ‘Authentic Man’ his needs were met either way and there were no regrets.
OR
A man falls through thin ice on a lake. As he clings to life a crowd gathers. The crowd discusses what to do to save the man, going over many options. One man seeing the man in the lake grabs some rope rushes out on the lake and saves the drowning man. The saviour did not pause to think of his own safety or go over the best options, rather he acted.
I guess I would not spend so much time thinking of what my needs are but accepting the circumstances of the situation. Because the situation will almost always turn out OK, or perhaps give me a learning experience from which I can profit in some way. Or dictate the course of action necessary.
It is not that I don’t have needs but that when I am in a situation with other people I tend to think, for the most part, about their needs. After all, true love is about the other not the self.
Although this may not be the best way to look at things it is how I do so. And how I do , is usually the best Way of Being. Diverse Wanderer
Jim! Great to get a comment from you! 🙂
I’m curious where you read about that story in Kierkegaard — do you recall? I’m interpreting it as “being authentic is linked with having no regrets” (which I greatly disagree with), but I’m not certain that that’s what either you or he are trying to convey… Would you let me know what it is that you see in the way the man responds to his wife’s cooking as authentic (perhaps keeping in mind that when we’re talking about authenticity in NVC, we’re partly referring to the honesty in expressing what’s really coming up for us to someone else — to varying lengths)?
I also am hearing what you’re saying in the second story as that there are times when taking time to think/feel through things could result in disaster. I totally agree with this. How we (very) consciously program ourselves in non-life-threatening situations to respond, however, may very well affect how we end up responding in life-threatening situations; so while I believe in the power of unconscious responsiveness in situations when the time to respond with effectiveness to saving or serving life is short, there’s still a lot of in-between moments when the time for careful, conscious consideration may be more life-serving than instant (“less-mindful”) reactivity. And those mindful moments could very well enhance or change our inner programming for the better so that our unconscious-response moments are all the more effective or life-serving. How does this thought land in you?
Peace to you, my friend!
The little boy came down the stairs for breakfast and announced,
“I had two bad dreams and twenty-thirty good ones.”
“What were the good dreams about,” his father asked.
“Dragons” the little boy replied.
“And what were the bad dreams about?” his father asked.
“Dragons” the little boy replied.
I love this little anecdote, Howard ^_^ Would you be willing to explain just a bit for me why this came to you (I’m guessing while reading this post)?
Missing you guys — hope all’s well out there!