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Conversation Tip: 4 Simple Words Help Clear the Air
“Tracey, why was there a book with a price dot on the sale shelf?”
I answered Joan’s question and several more, but she didn’t seem satisfied until I said, “Maybe I made a mistake.”
It wasn’t Joan’s questions but the underlying needles that bothered me. As she was leaving the library, I said, “May I walk you to your car?”
“You seem annoyed. What’s going on?” I listened as Joan (not her real name) blew off steam. She recounted how I’d done X and Q. For example, I seemed to be double-checking how she shelved books. This upset her and Crystal, who also took it personally.
The temptation to defend—I mean, explain—myself was great. Instead I said, “Is there anything else?”
Yes, Joan added that I’d done P and Z.
I listened intently.
“Is there anything else?”
“No. That’s all.”
Conversation Tip: How to Deal With a Complainer
Today’s guest blogger is my friend Bryan Zerr, creator of the KnowComplaints Movement. This is an edited version of his insightful message. Take it away, Bryan!
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Well, this might not be the single most effective way to stop someone from complaining, but it’s a loving, effective strategy with a big gift attached to it. You not only change the course of the conversation, you get to inspire someone’s heart and create an opportunity for deep connecting.
Imagine chatting with your friend Pat. You realize your conversation has turned into a complaint fest. Pat is stuck in resistance. She’s lost in her story about how bad everything is, and she’s really into sharing it with you.
You want to change this for yourself, but you also know how bad it feels to be distressed and believing it, so you want to bring her relief. Here’s the solution:
A Zippy Anecdote
I called AARP—for you youngsters, that’s the Association for Retired Persons—to get a copy of their DVD Staying Sharp. Not that I need it. Oh, no, not me.
The friendly phone person says, “What’s your last name and zip code?”
For the life of me, never have I had trouble with this item, I swear. I couldn’t remember my zip code. Fortunately, I found it amusing. After a long pause, I said, I can’t remember my zip code.”
She said, “Don’t worry. It happens a lot.”
“This is ironic. I’m calling to get the brain boosting info.”
“Just in time!”
That tickled my neurons, and I blurted out the number.
“I see you’re in sunny Hawaii. My daughter lives there.” And off we went into an interesting conversation about how her daughter’s adjusting to island life. I’m so glad I didn’t scold myself for my lapse because I was open to sparking that conversation.
Don’t Leave Home Empty-Headed
Conversation Secret #51
Bring several good conversation questions everywhere you go. Don’t leave home empty-headed. Read the newspaper. It’s full of interesting and controversial topics.
And here is exhibit A, an article about Smokey the Cat:
“Smokey the cat’s loud purr has been likened to a lawnmower, a hair dryer and a ‘Boeing 747 coming in to land from a mile away.’” His purr been recorded at 73 decibels, which could account for why he was dispatched to a shelter 3 years ago. The recording has been submitted to Guinness World Records.
He didn’t sound lawnmower-loud to me, just annoying. Click here to hear him for yourself.
OK, back to conversation questions: You could talk for a while about cats and their horrible habits. [Can you spot my feelings about the li'l critters?] Then branch off into pets in general and the sweet habit your dog had of bringing you her dish at suppertime. And how she broke 2 ceramic bowls before you smartened up. OK, I smartened up.
How to, Um, You Know, Like Spoil a Conversation
Last week I was listening to this, you know, podcast. The topic interested me: it was, you know, how to set goals. And one of the two speakers sprinkled, like, empty words as frequently as I am, you know, doing right now.
Listening for the goal-getting gems was, you know, like panning for gold. Nuggets were there, just hidden in a stream of, you know, like, distracting pebbles.
Enough examples? Point made?
What to do about it?
If you don’t care how you sound, and your friends understand you just fine, thank you very much, the answer is a big, fat nothing. However, if you want to
- communicate more effectively
- set a good example for your children
- get a job
- keep a job
- get a raise or
- get a better job, then
it’s time to declutter your head. Give those verbal tics the boot.
When I Was Tempted to Apologize
Yesterday’s nightmare turned into a delightful occasion. It started when I took the dogs to the bark park, bought sour cream, and followed a car to my home. I pulled into the garage and walked toward the car, thinking perhaps the driver was lost.
Far from it.
We were high-school classmates who traveled in different circles. I had invited Cheryl over so we could get acquainted. And I totally forgot! Yikes!
[Note to self: always, always, set the reminder alarm on my computer calendar.]
What to do, what to do? I decided to follow my own advice in my last blog: Don’t apologize, just carry on. I pretended nothing was amiss. “I’m so glad to see you. Thanks for coming.”
While I hosed Scooter’s muddy feet, I could hear Cheryl talking cheerfully to OOdles. Not only that, they were sitting together on the living room floor, which was littered with dog toys. Thank God the carpet was clean. I joined them and began what turned out to be two hours of great conversation.
When You’re Tempted to Apologize
Do you claim to have terrible public speaking skills? Are you worse than King George VI of Britain, who stu-stu-stuttered his way through The King’s Speech?
I didn’t think so.
In terms of fears, public speaking ranks right up there with drowning and/or sitting beside a a compulsive talker on the flight to Tokyo.
And that’s just silly because most people do an OK job of it. Speaking, not drowning.
Yesterday I went to a workshop for the Friends of the Hawaii Libraries. We’re the volunteer advocates and fundraisers. At lunchtime the microphone went around the room, and people shared what was going on at their library. I talked about our last book sale, which raised over $6,000 in 2 days. (Color me proud.) The representative from Molokai talked about giving several children’s books to every mom with a newborn, an idea we thought brilliant.
You Can’t Tell a Millionaire By His Blue Jeans
You wouldn’t look at John Tippin and think, “There goes a multi-millionaire.” With his blue jeans, leather jacket, and his gray hair pulled back into a long braid, he looks more like Willie Nelson than Donald Trump. And that quick and incorrect assumption was almost the undoing of a Las Vegas cab driver.
The cabbie was taking John and his wife to the Vegas Hilton. A huge sign in the front of the hotel read, “Home of the World-Record Megabucks Jackpot, John from Hawaii. The cabbie pointed to it and said, “Can you believe that ass____? That sonuvabitch came to town, put nine dollars in the machine, won $12 million and took it all back to Hawaii?”
“Really,” said John calmly. “Well, can you believe that ass____ is sitting in the back of your cab? Can you believe you just lost one hell of a tip?”
4 Tips You Can Use Today to Silence Negative Self-Talk and Have Fun at Parties
While getting a pre-holiday haircut, I said, “Stefanie, are you going to any Christmas parties?”
“Yes, but I probably won’t go.”
“Why not?”
“Oh, I start thinking about how I’ll have to talk to people, and it doesn’t seem like much fun. So I usually stay home.”
Psychologists have a fancy name for this behavior. I call it Sinking Your Own Boat.
Stefanie sinks her boat with her thoughts, one at a time. She feels more and more burdened, heavy, and miserable with each message from her imagination:
- “It’ll be boring.”
- “I might not know some people, and I’ll have to talk to them anyway.”
- “I don’t know what to say.”
- “What will I wear?”
- “I don’t like driving at night.”
Glug, glug, glug. Down goes the Good Ship Lollipop, sinking a fun evening with it.
De-Cluttering the Skeletons in Your Family Closet
Oprah’s family secret is out: She has a younger half-sister, Patricia, whom she met for the first time at Thanksgiving, 2010. Only one person in her family knew that Oprah’s mom gave up a baby for adoption. (Way to keep a secret, Auntie!)
Imagine Oprah’s surprise. I was surprised like that while visiting cousin Nancy in Ohio. Driving home from the airport, Nancy said, “Guess who can’t wait to meet you.”
“Tell me, tell me.”
“Aunt Mildred.”
“Who’s Aunt Mildred?” I was 35 and didn’t know my mom had a sister.
Mom had kicked the bucket eleven years earlier, and I could hardly wait to meet Aunt Mildred. Would she be vivacious and witty like Mom? Could we be close? In short, would she fill the Mom-emptiness in my heart?
No. She was her own self, grandmotherly in the old-time way.
