“Mary Miller was there,” he said. “I haven’t seen her in years.”
“Did you talk to her?” I asked. “Anything new?”
“Yes, I did. And no, not really….”
He continued….sharing the names of others in attendance.
I wasn’t listening. My mind had galloped off onto its own frontier. The mention of Mary conjured memories and questions.
Is it in my nature to forget to listen?
All communication is a little bit like playing the telephone game where messages are passed from one to another?
Words pass through our filters like water through the auto-drip?
Lime and calcium deposits slow, divert and cloud?
I caught myself and said, “Sorry, can you start again? I just remembered to listen.”
A friend has shared with me:
All conversations are with myself. Sometimes they involve other people.
As I work on my communication, the meaning deepens.