The Perks of Laryngitis (really).
I’ve just shrugged off a bout of laryngitis— and despite a red-raw throat, there were unexpected perks.
First: not being able to talk at my usual 90mph.
At the hairdressers’, our dynamic changed. We normally chat nonstop about life, movies, and the headlines—in between solving the world’s problems (if he’d added the ten-minute hot oil treatment, we would have nailed the mid-east peace process.)
Instead, I listened. And without our rapid-fire volleys, we shifted gears. To the pain of seeing his elderly mother enter a home. To his worries that his son is struggling at school. Sure, we still laughed, but with more attention to other things.
I relied on hand signals, clumsy at first: I looked as if I was landing a plane, arms flailing in all directions. Marcel Marceau would have been proud. Or not. Eventually, they became more nuanced.
With my newfound economy of speech, I weighed my utterances carefully. Like words on a news script, each had to earn its place. I tuned in more to the other person – their pitch (high and stressed?), pace (relaxed?) and their body language (betrayed or conveyed their dialogue?)
And listening to the car radio, I realized some long-misheard lyrics, like R.E.M’s Losing my Religion. Turns out, it doesn’t say: Let's pee in the corner, Let's pee in the spotlight…
Laryngitis, glad you hit the road. But maybe you weren’t all bad.
Do you feel listened to? And how good a listener are you?
This takes me back to France when I rebooked train tickets. The guy refused to speak English. I know a handful of French, like every 10th word in a sentence. I relied so much on his gestures and tone. He was working me! He knew I could only catch a little bit but enough. All I could do was listen and watch. Funny how you can glean more when you can’t speak!
Francie, great to see your name pop up! Your story made me smile, and it’s so true. When we’re put in a position of having to only listen and watch, it changes the dynamic and lends a different perspective. And I’m reminded of a funny human quirk… why do people think simply repeating themselves more loudly means we’ll understand more? 🙂
Please stop by anytime,
Alicia
You know, I suffer from the same thing – wanting to share my own life’s foibles…that I sometimes need a reminder to stop and listen to others…so true! This was a great reminder and also how sweet of you to always look for the silver lining…so smart!
Thanks, Louisa!
-Alicia
Let’s pee in the corner??? Could be my son’s mantra. Glad you cleared that up but Michael Stipe might prefer it that way… if he knew. My brother used to think the Go-go’s were singing about “Alex the seal”
Megan, I laughed! “Alex the Seal?!” – Oh, the Go-Go’s hit: “My lips are sealed”! Funny how we can be convinced lyrics are something else entirely. Thanks for dropping by,
Alicia
Recently I was chatting with my husband David, about some of the food choices we have been making. We talked about some of the practices & processes used in the animal farming business and in particular how, until about 2 years ago, I had never really considered how cows continually produced milk (thinking it was a natural occurance) – of course now I know different.
He said that some years ago he had explained some of this stuff to me and I realised, at that moment, that I had spent time ‘listening’ but not ‘hearing’ – I clearly wasn’t ready to truly hear it.
I realise now that sometimes we think we’re good listeners, but do we really ‘hear’?!…. My mother would always say “you have 2 ears and 1 mouth, use them in that order”!
Thought provoking post Alicia, thanks! x
Deb, I completely get your point. It’s so easy to listen, but not truly hear the content of what someone is saying, or just as easy to miss the cues from body language.
And I love that saying – actually, it’s in my book!
Thanks for your thoughtful input.
Alicia