WHEN YOU DON’T HAVE ANYTHING TO SAY…DON’T SAY IT RIGHT AWAY
That nonsensical bit of advice was the end result of a conversation with a friend about the unconscious effects of discomfort. I was sharing about a pair of recent back-to-back social skill misfires. We quickly concluded the following possible truths. Philosophical maybes.
For most people, sitting with another human being in comfortable silence is …
- An acquired skill
- The sign of a really good friendship
- Almost impossible
Do I worry about my communicative skills? I have my moments.
At a recent event, an after party in Washington D.C., I ran into Tony Bennett. I’ve always loved Tony Bennett. We greeted each other warmly and then I stood next to him thinking, “I’m standing next to Tony Bennett and I can’t think of anything to say.” It was a large gathering on the hill, wall-to-wall politico big shots and celebs, happily gabbing away and here we stood in this little prolonged oasis of silence.
It was odd. I wasn’t uncomfortable and I don’t think he was either. I had just stepped into what an actor friend calls ‘the white room’. That mental space where there is simply no thought. It’s forgetting lines, losing your place in a story your telling or a conversational “page missing”. In Spanish it’s called “Laguna de Menta”. The mind lagoon.
I’d like to think my psyche had simply decided this was a very nice man, that I was in a safe place to, so the message was “give your brain a rest Paulie. You don’t need to try to entertain or impress him. He’s fine. He’s Tony Bennett.
So, I just stood there, as disengaged as a carriage horse munching on a bit of foliage.
On the other end of the spectrum, my next exchange at the same party was with Michael Feinstein. It started like a verbal drag race. I flew off the “Hi Michel!” starting line and launched into a warp speed dissertation on the similarities between Oscar Levant’s melody for his song “Blame it on my Youth” and George Gershwin’s melodies. This was a conversation we might’ve had at the end of a leisurely dinner, but it made no sense in the din of a crowded, noisy cocktail party. Especially delivered at a verbal velocity reminiscent of my cocaine days. Lovely.
Michael responded with a smile that morphed into a confused yet still friendly look. He laughed when I said, “Yeah. I know, I’ll get back to you about this”
It was probably my ego bouncing back after the Tony Bennet meets Marcel Marceau moment.
I love that I’m at a place and time in my life when I’ve begun to observe these moments and examine them. There’s valuable information there and life improves when we use it. It’s affirmation number five in our book. “I will continue to examine my behavior on a daily basis.”
On the listening side of the skill set I am prone to ‘trigger trips.’ A mention of San Simeon, the Hearst castle and I’m suddenly remembering a time in my twenties when I tried to sneak into the Hearst hunting lodge … and once back in my body realize I’ve missed two minutes of a companions story.
But wait! There’s more!
In the middle of a lovely conversation last night, with someone I deeply admire who was sharing intimate information about her childhood, I spotted a billboard and practically screamed “Michael Bolton’s coming to Miami!” My less-evolved self surfaced like a Tourette’s outburst
I have one final admission for this conversational confessional. I sometimes catch myself delivering what I’ll call “space filler babel”. Walking with a pal I sometimes unconsciously begin sharing whatever’s on my mind. Information of little interest to anybody but me. Even from my end it’s annoying.
The gift in the exchange that started this blog came when my friend shared a story from her childhood. It seems her father preferred silence from his children unless they had something to share that they’d learned. My first thought was how mean. She insisted it was quite the opposite. It created an unconscious monitoring system where she began to edit the thoughts she shared. It truly makes her a much more interesting person to be around and frankly it put a new target on my horizon. To relieve myself of the need to fill the space with words, let the silence frame more meaningful dialogue and ..
Well, there is no ‘and’. I’ve said enough. Our journey of self-discovery is endless and I hope sharing my thoughts may be helpful. We’re all connected in this marvelous dance of communication and my goal is to keep learning, adjust what needs to be adjusted and always remember that the most valued elements that decorate my noisy life can actually be described in two words. Gratitude and trust.
Did I ever tell you how Tracey and I decided on Gratitude and … whoops
Paul Williams is a singer, songwriter, actor, recovery advocate and has been a fixture on the American cultural scene since the seventies. His book Gratitude and Trust is now available.