Shut up and listen

Even if he talked, and she didn't, it still counted as a conversation.

Rachel Joyce, Miss Benson's Beetle

As someone who normally contributes very little to conversations, that sentence from Rachel Joyce's fine novel Miss Benson's Beetle (more about that next time) stood out for me. Conversation involves both talking and listening. Ideally there is some of each for each participant in a conversation, but as Margery Benson observes in the novel, neither is absolutely necessary.

There are some people, of course, who could never have a conversation without talking. Their own voice is, in fact, the only one they want to hear. Other participants are little more than props.

Recently I participated in a series of group discussions where the basic ground-rules were 1) no one reveals any personal details shared in the group, 2) everyone gives the speaker their full attention, and 3) no one interrupts another person who is talking.

Even for me, rules two and three were difficult to follow. I had to bite my tongue more than once. Others found them all but impossible. When other people talk, their words remind us of our own situations, our own experiences. Our minds wander. Someone else has lost a loved not? Well, we have lost loved ones too. Someone else has been sick? Well, we've had something worse. Someone else has moved into a new home? Well, we have moved into new homes. Instead of listening fully to what others are saying, we start thinking about what we can say next. Sometimes, too often in fact, we jump in before the other person has finished and try to make the conversation about us. I call this "hijacking a conversation."

One woman in the group lost her husband just a few months before. She revealed that since his death she has yet to find anyone she can share her thoughts and feelings with. Her friends interrupt. Everyone wants to give her advice. All want to tell their own stories of loss. Yes, these count as conversations, but sometimes what we really want and what we really need is a monologue— with an audience willing to just shut up and listen.

Some people pay analysts a lot of money to experience this, but we shouldn't have to. Sometimes we all need a Margery Benson, and sometimes we just need to be one.