Communication

At any given moment I have eight to ten plates spinning on sticks like a carnival attraction, in my head. And that's just a light day. Some are big plates like the fate of the world and my part in it. Some are small ones like trying to remember what was on my grocery list now that I'm at the store and left the list at home. But no matter the size, they are all spinning at the same time, and dropping even one is not an option.

As a result, my mind often filters information, quite severely in fact, to the point where I hear something and immediately forget it. At least that's what I'm telling myself the reason is; better that my mind has a fine-tuned filing system and not early-onset senility. But there are things that get lost in the great purge, vital things. Like recently misplacing my daughter's passport, or not fully paying attention to a friend telling me about something awful they are going through. Thankfully, that's not all the time and my mind does tend to have backup storage that plays in the middle of the night, providing me the necessary opportunity to overthink and obsess what was said until dawn, while I plot how to apologize in the morning. My head is a scary place. It's not always fun in here. 

BUT that does not mean that I am not interested, not absorbing and processing, not acknowledging your crisis or triumphs in an attempt to get to the "now, let's talk about me" portion of the conversation. I am acutely aware that it can come off that way but that is not what is happening. OCD is a blessing and a curse. And I apologize if I didn't explain that to you at the time of forgetting what you were saying. 

Decades ago I went on a blind date with a man who could not stop talking about himself. The phrase "I couldn't get a word in edgewise" comes to mind. Through dinner, I was just sitting there watching the performance. No need to listen or add a comment, no need for even a "hmm". He was in the spotlight and couldn't see, nor concern himself with, the audience. To add insult to injury, he was a royal jerk, so much so that I would have preferred he was acting as a character in a play instead of a real person. When the meal came to a natural conclusion and the check arrived, he looked at me and said "how do you want to split this?" It was the first time he had asked me a question or even engaged me in conversation, the entire evening. I'd like to say I replied with some witty quip. Instead, I excused myself to the bathroom and hailed a cab without saying a word. I was young. Not my finest hour. But he was an ass. The friend who set us up no longer speaks to me. Just as well. I don't need friends like that. My only regret is that I never told him to do better on his next date.

The point of this trip down memory lane is to say that I am listening even if in that moment it appears otherwise. Perhaps I'm processing something requiring more bandwidth than I have at the moment. Maybe I'm saving it to replay later when I've fully digested what you said. Of course, it could just be that you blathered on ad nauseum without bothering to check if I was in the room, so I decided to check out. 

The moral of the story is, I apologize for the filter-happy filing system that is my brain processing function. It is also to say a conversation goes two ways; I didn't buy a ticket to a show. I'm thrilled you feel comfortable enough to talk to me all about yourself, but consider that while you've given me tons of background on yourself, you literally know nothing about me other than what I have managed to "squeeze in edgewise" by way of unheeded reply. Come up for air and ask me a question even if you have to pretend that you're interested. I at least text the next day to say "I'm sorry. I was listening. I have now reviewed my mental notes during my bout of insomnia and I'm ready to discuss further. Please continue to tell me things even when it appears that I've gone blank. The recorder is still on."

One last thing: To that man at dinner. I know that you are used to being heard, being in charge, being the boss. You are not regularly in a position to listen and learn. The stories and lives of the people you speak to are unimportant in your daily transfer of information and assignments to them. I understand completely how after years of being in a position of authority, you've dismissed or even forgotten how to reverse roles and be on the receiving end of data. That is all well and good in business. Relationships however are a partnership, an equal distribution. And while it may appear that your dinner guest is your perfect match because she is agreeing with all you say, it does not mean that is ALL she has to say. And if that relationship continues, I foresee your eventual boredom. With nothing to say (or nothing you allow to be said), your partner is not adding to your life in any way. They will become just another subordinate yes-man and therefore as easily replaced as staff. The burden of doing all the heavy lifting in a relationship will eventually wear on you. You may not know why, but you will feel the weight. Consider sharing. 

Or not, it's up to you. But I still don't regret what I did and the cab driver thought it was a great story.