What you hear when you really listen is much richer than what you hear when you talk. Read some of Darla’s thoughts as she listens to other’s stories.
So you reckon you know something about derby? We caught up with the Night Witch, April, the bench coach for the Sirens at the Augusta regional Low Down Thrown Down. I asked her when she started to derby…..
Enjoy her story and watch for this sport to go mainline.
SKATE ON, Night Witch!
Darla
So, you think bench talk is all chatter about this and that?
Consider this more grave topic. Benches in the cemeteries.
Oh, I see you are a little uncomfortable with this, perhaps? Is it because you don’t sit on benches in cemeteries?
Or maybe you don’t talk to other people there. Continue reading A Bench with Grave Implications
“So, Darla,” my dear readers ask, “I do listen to other people. Why don’t people listen to me?”
Oh, I see you’ve noticed. That’s the first step, of course. Being able to see the eyes glazing over, the yawn behind the hand, the fidgeting…you might be surprised at how many people actually don’t notice that they are boring their conversation companion to tears.
So how to get your companion to listen to you?
Talk in colors.
You may have heard that artists are told to tell a story with their painting. So you need to paint a story with your words.
Let’s say, instead of “I went for a walk today and there were flowers…”, try “You should have seen all the shades of purple on Broadway today.”
Or, ” I am so exhausted, I just want to go take a nap…”, try, “I can just imagine what it would be like to bundle up in that red afghan my mother knitted for me and take a nap.”
Enticing, yes? And bound to elicit a colorful response.
Try it, and see if your bench companion isn’t hanging on your every yellow.
Until next time, then, you with the golden gift of gab.
SKATE ON!
Darla
(Surely you recognize this bench in Guell Park near Barcelona, Spain, designed by the master of color himself, Antoni Gaudi!)
Good morning, my readers.
Today I offer this suggestion. Learn to listen like a dog.
I suggest you try it. Next time you are on a park bench (or just about anywhere, I can suppose), and you are in a conversation with someone (just about anyone, I suppose), listen to your mind.
You will most probably find that your mind is going in all these crazy directions. Like, say, trying to figure out how to respond to what you hear. Or, how to argue or agree with what you hear. Or, listening for a period at the end of the speaker’s sentence so it will be your turn next to speak.
Oh, yes. I assure you that is what you’ll hear. And most of the time your mind’s voice drowns out what the speaker is actually saying.
But let’s consider a dog. Does a dog think about his next response? Or jump in to offer a nuanced opinion? Or does she begin to plan her next walk while listening to you?
Of course a dog doesn’t do those things. A dog just listens. That’s why we like dogs so much. They just listen.
Not at all like a cat, who definitely has an opinion about everything. You can see the wheels turning in a cat’s head while you are speaking to him. In fact, the cat might easily just walk away in the middle of your sentence.
And not like a rabbit, who fidgets and just wants to get away.
So, try this next time you are in a conversation. Make like a dog and just listen.
What you hear may be richer than the voice in your head at the moment.
And with that thought, I’m off.
SKATE ON!
Darla
(You got to love this pup waiting patiently outside a store in Alpine, Tx.)
So, listen. This is Darla, from ” Darla the Roller Derby Queen”.
If you’ve read the book you know I do most of my storytelling, and my listening, on a park bench. I never know who will be on the bench with me, but it always turns out to be the right person at the right time with the right message. That’s just the way it works.
If you haven’t noticed, there are a LOT of benches around. Just start paying attention and you’ll see them. In parks, obviously, but also in front of buildings, in train stations, in cemeteries. You will see benches in movies, in advertising campaigns, and just sitting there in front of you. I can go on and on, but you will get the picture if you just start looking around.
And there is no better place, metaphorically, to get to know someone you probably wouldn’t meet otherwise. You just have to quit talking and learn to listen.
That’s what the blogs in Art of the Listen will be about.
So, listen. You just might meet a friend.
Skate On.
Darla
(Waiting for the ferry to go to Bolivar Peninsula on the Texas Gulf Coast.)
