listening Archives %- – Rock The Wrinkle

When did listening become a rare….very rare….talent?

Probably about the same time selfies became the only way to experience anything.

Can we truly not sit still for 5 minutes, letting another person bare their soul, without already coming up with what we want to say, that so often is about us, and not them?

I confess it really bothers me. I so treasure the people in my life who actually want to hear what is happening in my life, listen to me when I’m in need of another person’s understanding, and not immediately make it relate to them. And if I’m honest, I only know a few who will do that. Research says humans generally listen at a 25% comprehension rate. I have a feeling political candidates in a debate listen about 5% of the time, if that much.
Being a good friend (which to me, means listening) is something I work hard at. Because like anyone, I know there are those days when you just need to vent. You need to express your frustration over work or relationships. You want, just for a moment, to get a little empathy for your chronic pain or your work struggles or whatever is vexing you.

Why is it so important? When you really listen to someone, you are taking them seriously. You are showing them respect. You are saying you care without saying a word. That’s something we all want—to be heard, to be acknowledged.

So if you need to tell me about something that matters to you, I listen. I look at you, I don’t look around the restaurant at other people. (55% of the meaning of our words is derived from facial expressions.)

I do not look at my phone. (Studies suggest we are distracted and/or preoccupied 85% of the time while we are supposedly listening.)

I do not prepare a dialogue about how all this happened to me only yesterday. (Studies also say we listen at 125-250 words per minute, but we think at 1,000 to 3,000 words per minute. Uh-oh.)

I’m not a saint, and sometimes I do better than others. But I really try to hear you, whether you are a friend, a client, or a stranger who needs directions. And so very often, I don’t get that back. Not even a smidgen. It’s sad.

I think most people are innocent in that they don’t realize what they are doing. We live in such an immediate, reactive, self-absorbed world. We have to take our picture every 5 minutes. We have to let everyone know what we’re doing every 5 minutes via Facebook and Twitter. Our phones are attached to our hands, yet we don’t really communicate with anyone. Instead, we text 4 words and expect an immediate response. We don’t write letters anymore pouring our hearts out and thus we never receive any either.

For most people, finding 10 minutes of quiet in a day—sans a device— is not only impossible, it’s not something they want anyway.

I think we are losing each other. It’s a bit frightening. Maybe the much younger generation is good with all this.

But I’m not.

And I would hope boomers and beyond are not either. Because after we’ve retired, or our spouse or friends have passed away, and our lives have grown much smaller, I think we’ll so desperately want someone to talk to—someone who will just listen to us and let us listen to them.

Who will see us and hear us.

I just pray we remember how.

“Wisdom is the reward you get for a lifetime of listening when you’d have preferred to talk.”

Doug Larson

The world is changing in every way. Yet while many of us are faced with the same challenges as before, it can just feel much harder when you feel confined within four walls. Living with or taking care of someone with dementia or other cognitive issues is never easy, especially now.

And often it’s even harder: not being able to visit a loved one due to a lockdown of a community. Or, attempting to have a conversation through a glass window or door.

When we love someone, and we see her or him slipping away from us (physically or mentally), it can be so hard. It can leave you feeling helpless, and often, angry.

If your mother or father ever suffered or suffers from Alzheimer’s or dementia, you know how hard it can be to have conversations. Their reality is not the same as yours, and the challenge of trying to adjust to that on the spot can be hard for many adult children. And if your visits are currently limited to a wave from outdoors, the guilt and frustration can be overwhelming.

When my mother’s mind began to fade, she was convinced another woman lived in the house and the clothes in a particular closet were evidence of this. She also would become angry and want to know why I had not come home from school on time (I was fully grown). Many times, she was convinced she saw her mother in the room (her mother had died many, many years before).

It hurt and confused my father, and could make him angry. It frightened some people. And while it could break my heart, I learned a very valuable lesson about communicating with someone with memory challenges..

Don’t argue.

It’s hard for many adult children to accept this. They feel it’s their duty to correct Dad when he says he has to get back with the squadron before it takes off. Or remind Mom that Dad is no longer alive and she shouldn’t set an extra place for him. Or stubbornly demand a parent remember everything correctly when the simple medical fact is, they can’t. You do. But they don’t.

If all your mother or father has left is the life they live in their minds, because physically they can no longer garden, run, travel, cook, or repair the car, let them have those moments of peace. And if your parent is upset about something that just isn’t true (such as how he or she needs to go the bus stop right now and go home), instead of arguing, why not just redirect the conversation into a pleasant memory or topic.

Things change for all of us as we grow older. For someone with dementia, the changes are frightening and lonely. I have watched a lot of futile arguments and the results are everyone is miserable. But when you can just go with the flow, nod your head and smile, and redirect the topic of conversation, things go much better.

Because I believe even as our minds go, one very important thing still is true: we all want to be heard.

Alzheimer’s Association offers this advice for helping your loved one communicate:

Be patient and supportive. Let your loved one know you’re listening, show you care about what he or she is saying, and don’t interrupt.
Offer comfort and reassurance. If they can’t communicate, let them know it’s okay.
Avoid criticizing or correcting. Instead, try to find the meaning of what was said.
Avoid arguing. Even if you don’t agree with what was just said, let it go. Arguing just increases agitation.
Encourage unspoken communication. Ask your loved one if they can point, or gesture, if they are having trouble communicating.
Limit distractions. Try to have your visit in a quiet place so he or she can focus on what they are trying to say.
Focus on feelings, not facts. It’s the emotions that count, not the facts.

Of course trying to do some of these things through a window of an assisted living or memory care community is even harder. But there are some tips from experts on how to stay in touch during these difficult times.

If your loved one can communicate by phone, try to keep a regular schedule for your calls. Same for visits…if every Tuesday at 10 a.m. is a good time, put it on your calendar and let your parent’s caregivers know that’s when you’ll be there. Drop off letters and packages…get the grandchildren involved in making something your loved one can put on the wall or keep to remind them of you. Frame a fun photo. (Do remember to follow cleaning tips with everything you make and deliver. ) Make use of online chats if possible.

Easier said than done I know. But remember you are not alone. Check out caregiver support groups online or talk to a friend or spouse. Even in these times, help is out there if you look for it. Go for a walk and let yourself relax. Take care of yourself as much as you can, and maybe you’ll find it a bit easier to meet your loved ones where they are.