Aren’t we lucky to be us?
Even when we think of empathy as a tool for good, it might not be a good idea to oversell its strengths, and we should remember that there will always be people who will use it against others for their own benefit.
As long as it doesn’t seem fake, the more we establish familiarity with our audience – not speaking to them from left field or from on high – the better chance we have that they’ll listen to what we have to say. And possibly even accept it.
I hope they’ll pay attention not so much to the mechanical things, like a sudden change of pace in a talk or a sudden change in volume of their voice. I hope they’ll pay attention, instead, to the fundamental source of that pacing and volume, which is the connection with the other person. That connection makes us respond like a leaf in the breeze to whatever is happening in the faces of those in front of us.
I had always wondered why people wanted to be rich and famous. If you could be rich and anonymous, that would be fun. To be famous and not rich, the way we were, was the least fun. It takes time and effort to be famous, and if they offer you fame without the money, don’t take it. It’s a scam.
I’ve been an improviser since I was in my twenties. There’s really no failing in improv. You just go on to the next thing.
Being truly connected to the other person happens when we see them in a way that’s both emotional and rational, especially if we include listening with our eyes: looking for clues in the face, in gestures – in all the nonverbal signs of a state of mind. It’s complete and total listening. First, it’s understanding what another person is feeling – what’s usually called empathy – and second, an awareness of what another person is thinking – what scientists call Theory of Mind.
In fact, it’s not until about the age of four or five that it even occurs to children that deception is possible. There’s no point in lying if everybody knows what you’re thinking!
My kidneys were expecting orange juice. Silly kidneys.
Aristotle is often quoted as saying that a story should have a beginning, a middle, and an end. That’s true, but I don’t think that’s the whole story. After all, a dead cat has a beginning, a middle, and an end.
The person who’s communicating something is responsible for how well the other person follows him.
Allowing this childish curiosity to continue on my whole life has given me a sense of satisfaction, and maybe even a sense of meaning. No matter how old I get I have the feeling that if I can keep this curiosity flame lit I will see the world in a way that never gets stale... life will have a taste that delights.
There is no hidden meaning to life... looking for one is our problem solving brain chasing its tail.
We were developing empathy and the ability to be aware of what was happening in the mind of another person. This, we realized, is the key, the fundamental ingredient without which real communication can’t happen. Developing empathy and learning to recognize what the other person is thinking are both essential to good communication, and are what this book is about.
Not being truly engaged with the people we’re trying to communicate with, and then suffering the snags of misunderstanding, is the grit in the gears of daily life.
Most research, I think, can only suggest, or point toward, an insight of some kind.
If I’m trying to explain something and you don’t follow me, it’s not simply your job to catch up. It’s my job to slow down. This is at the heart of communicating: If I tell you something without making sure you got it, did I really communicate anything? Was I talking to you, or was I just making noises? In the mirror exercise, is the leader enabling the follower to follow, or is he just waving his arms?
It’s being so aware of the other person that, even if you have your back to them, you’re observing them. It’s letting everything about them affect you; not just their words, but also their tone of voice, their body language, even subtle things like where they’re standing in the room or how they occupy a chair. Relating is letting all that seep into you and have an effect on how you respond to the other person.
I took a bold step and stopped reading the scientists’ research papers before I met with them. I would come in armed only with curiosity and my own natural ignorance. I was learning the value of bringing my ignorance to the surface. The scientists could see exactly how much I already understood, and they could start there.
Real conversation can’t happen if listening is just my waiting for you to finish talking.
You could measure how long I would remember that moment by the redness of my cheeks. My father saw that I liked projects and taught me how to make lamps out of Chianti bottles.