PAY ATTENTION
I woke early this morning, just before 5 a.m., and realized that my body was not really interested in more sleep. So I got up and decided to spend a little bit of time on a manuscript that has been sitting waiting for some revision attention for a long time.
In the manuscript, in the section I did some revisions this morning, there is a passage about paying attention to the world around us, where we are "right now". And from that point, it goes on to discuss paying attention to those people around us.
It got me thinking of an annoying thing I see in conversation from time to time: people who are supposedly engaged in a conversation, but who are looking everywhere but at the person they are "talking with."
Now, I can understand certain circumstances where the wandering eyes during conversation make a little bit of sense -- like at conventions, where there are crowds of people wandering about and you're keeping an eye out for someone you might know or need to talk to. But most of the time, it involves people who have actually stopped, faced someone and addressed them, and ostensively made a non-verbal contract to be conversationally engaged with the other person.
It really bugs me personally, when I'm talking with someone and the other person's eyes never rest on my face, never meet my own eyes. When they give no indication that they are listening at all by any of the usual visual clues. Frankly, it hurts. I know a couple of people who do this to me frequently. It feels dismissive, as if I don't really exist. I'm left wondering if my countenence is so hideous that they cannot bear to meet my eyes. I mean, I know I'm no beauty queen, but I don't think I'm that repuslive.
So I'm left with the conclusion that far too many people never consider the discourtesy that comes with failing to demonstrate that they are being attentive through the simple act of meeting the other person's eyes, at least occasionally.
It's a little weird to me, because meeting someone's eyes is such a small thing to do. It acknowledges the very existence of the other person. And I personally think there is far too much in our modern life that does not do that: automated answering menus of recorded voices ("Press 1 for Billing"), menus that sometimes do not even tell you how to get though to an actual person to speak to (whether the actual person is actually in India or not); ATM machines, which are very convenient, but definitely not personal; drive-through fast food workers, who pay so little attention to your order that you frequently have to correct them ("No, Combo Number TWO, not Three" - leaving you wondering how the sound of "two" can possibly be mistaken for "three"). By contrast, I have learned that the simple act of lifting my face from the menu at a sit-down restaurant and turning my face in the general direction of the waiter gets me better service. When I actually make eye contact and, even more so, actually smile at the waiter I get attentive service.
So why, then, is it so hard to get that attention for my supposed friends?
When I try looking at it from the other direction, the only cause I can think of that would create this behavior (besides flat out lack of interest) is that the person has taken too much to heart the saying that "the eyes are the windows of the soul" and they are afraid of truly being seen, of having someone look in and see all the things they try to hide from the world - the hurts, the angers, the insecurities, the fears.
For a time in my life, I had gotten out of the habit of looking in people's faces when talking with them. It was something of a fear reaction. It began on one specific occasion: I was talking with my best friend about Easter and what the reaction of the disciples might have been after the crucifixion. As I spun out my speculation like a story, I saw her eyes fixed on me, fascinated. It made me very, very conscious of the power of storytelling, and the power of focused attention on another person (for I had been looking right into her face while speaking). I was alarmed at having that kind of power over someone. So I shied away from it by not meeting people's eyes as much.
But eventually I changed my mind on that. People deserved a better response from me than to have me constantly looking away when they tried to talk with me. And coming back to it, I have rediscovered the power of the attentive look, the direct gaze and smile. Such a small, easy thing, to give that direct look and a genuine smile - and so nourishing to the recipient. I have seen a tired old man straighten up like a freshly watered plant, simply because I smiled at him through my car's windshield.
God looks at us every day, every minute. His attention is there and waiting, without impatience or distraction. And it is not difficult for us to do likewise to our fellow humans, even in a small way.
I woke early this morning, just before 5 a.m., and realized that my body was not really interested in more sleep. So I got up and decided to spend a little bit of time on a manuscript that has been sitting waiting for some revision attention for a long time.
In the manuscript, in the section I did some revisions this morning, there is a passage about paying attention to the world around us, where we are "right now". And from that point, it goes on to discuss paying attention to those people around us.
It got me thinking of an annoying thing I see in conversation from time to time: people who are supposedly engaged in a conversation, but who are looking everywhere but at the person they are "talking with."
Now, I can understand certain circumstances where the wandering eyes during conversation make a little bit of sense -- like at conventions, where there are crowds of people wandering about and you're keeping an eye out for someone you might know or need to talk to. But most of the time, it involves people who have actually stopped, faced someone and addressed them, and ostensively made a non-verbal contract to be conversationally engaged with the other person.
It really bugs me personally, when I'm talking with someone and the other person's eyes never rest on my face, never meet my own eyes. When they give no indication that they are listening at all by any of the usual visual clues. Frankly, it hurts. I know a couple of people who do this to me frequently. It feels dismissive, as if I don't really exist. I'm left wondering if my countenence is so hideous that they cannot bear to meet my eyes. I mean, I know I'm no beauty queen, but I don't think I'm that repuslive.
So I'm left with the conclusion that far too many people never consider the discourtesy that comes with failing to demonstrate that they are being attentive through the simple act of meeting the other person's eyes, at least occasionally.
It's a little weird to me, because meeting someone's eyes is such a small thing to do. It acknowledges the very existence of the other person. And I personally think there is far too much in our modern life that does not do that: automated answering menus of recorded voices ("Press 1 for Billing"), menus that sometimes do not even tell you how to get though to an actual person to speak to (whether the actual person is actually in India or not); ATM machines, which are very convenient, but definitely not personal; drive-through fast food workers, who pay so little attention to your order that you frequently have to correct them ("No, Combo Number TWO, not Three" - leaving you wondering how the sound of "two" can possibly be mistaken for "three"). By contrast, I have learned that the simple act of lifting my face from the menu at a sit-down restaurant and turning my face in the general direction of the waiter gets me better service. When I actually make eye contact and, even more so, actually smile at the waiter I get attentive service.
So why, then, is it so hard to get that attention for my supposed friends?
When I try looking at it from the other direction, the only cause I can think of that would create this behavior (besides flat out lack of interest) is that the person has taken too much to heart the saying that "the eyes are the windows of the soul" and they are afraid of truly being seen, of having someone look in and see all the things they try to hide from the world - the hurts, the angers, the insecurities, the fears.
For a time in my life, I had gotten out of the habit of looking in people's faces when talking with them. It was something of a fear reaction. It began on one specific occasion: I was talking with my best friend about Easter and what the reaction of the disciples might have been after the crucifixion. As I spun out my speculation like a story, I saw her eyes fixed on me, fascinated. It made me very, very conscious of the power of storytelling, and the power of focused attention on another person (for I had been looking right into her face while speaking). I was alarmed at having that kind of power over someone. So I shied away from it by not meeting people's eyes as much.
But eventually I changed my mind on that. People deserved a better response from me than to have me constantly looking away when they tried to talk with me. And coming back to it, I have rediscovered the power of the attentive look, the direct gaze and smile. Such a small, easy thing, to give that direct look and a genuine smile - and so nourishing to the recipient. I have seen a tired old man straighten up like a freshly watered plant, simply because I smiled at him through my car's windshield.
God looks at us every day, every minute. His attention is there and waiting, without impatience or distraction. And it is not difficult for us to do likewise to our fellow humans, even in a small way.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home