Miscommunication

"I know that you believe you understand what you think I said, but I'm not sure you realize that you what you heard is not what I meant." Robert McCloskey

The quote above was written by one of my favorite children's book authors, Robert McCloskey. Mr. McCloskey was born in 1914, and spent much of his life not far from where I currently live on the Maine coast. He won numerous Caldecott Awards for his work, and was celebrated in both the Midwest, and his adopted home of New England."One Morning in Maine", "Blueberries for Sal", "Time of Wonder", and of course, "Make Way for Ducklings" were books that I treasured in my childhood. I was even more excited to share these books with my children. Yet, it's the quote above, that Mr. McCloskey said in the late 1970's, that has resonated with me in my adult life. Despite my memories of happy, peaceful scenes, and my beloved rocky shore, the sad fact is that every day I seem to find more and more miscommunication. People with whom I speak seem to have a completely different understanding than my own. My children believe I've said one thing, when I'm quite sure I've said another. My husband and I completely miss each other's points on serious issues. My friends and I find ourselves wondering if our feelings should be hurt, or if we have simply misread a situation or a particular comment. In short, Robert McCloskey's humorous take on miscommunication appears to be entirely appropriate for most of us, much of the time.

There are two sides to any misunderstanding: the misunderstood and the "misunderstander". As a constant talker, I find myself on both sides of this dilemma far too often. When my comments are misconstrued, I feel frustrated. I try to remember if I made my point with validity and clarity. I gauge if the receiver was simply not paying attention to my point, or if she had her own agenda. Finally, I simply retrace the steps of the conversation, word by word, as best as I can, to figure out where my own words were unclear. If I firmly believe that my intent was effectively communicated, I have to wonder where my listener could have gone astray. Was it my fault? Should I have asked if she 'got it' or is that condescending? It's a tough call, because as we communicate with another person, we want to respect their intelligence and abilities. We certainly don't want to treat our contemporaries like kindergartners of whom we require a detailed recitation of the directions.

In the same way, I have greatly misunderstood the comments, context, insinuations and ideas of others. Just as I cannot expect everyone to fully grasp my ideas, I have learned that I have much progress that needs to be made in my own understanding. Too often, I take a remark personally, that isn't meant to be hurtful. Or, I will believe a project is of lesser (or greater) importance on a team, misunderstanding the
urgency of it, or lack thereof. Without truly comprehending the point, I will make my own conclusions, which, inevitably, are wrong. This can be incredibly embarrassing. I would like to be seen by others as trustworthy, helpful, insightful and cooperative. But, when I am clearly not comprehending a situation, I can appear disorganized, lazy, unobservant and useless...simply by not clarifying a task, a comment or a goal.

What can we do to ensure better communication? I believe this question is the best beginning: by acknowledging any uncertainty and by asking questions. I would rather be asked a dozen questions, than to have my words taken out of context, or have a project veer off in the wrong direction. I would rather risk embarrassment of seeming uncertain than follow instructions that are incorrect. It's sometimes difficult to know when we're on the wrong path...on the wrong train of thought or following a misguided lead. If my instinct is starting to tickle my conscience, I make sure to slow down, try to ask myself if my own priorities are interfering with a solution, and then retrace back to the core of the problem. Better communication can also come with increased communication. Keeping team members abreast of developments, double checking facts before using them and keeping all parties informed can save a great deal of time (and trouble).

Of course, there are times in which we wish we misunderstood a person. Having had a remark directed at me, recently, that was incredibly rude and unkind, I know that there are instances in which better communication, or level of understanding, will do little to alleviate the sting. Yet, by asking a question to the ill mannered person, you also have the advantage and requiring her to explain herself. "What makes you feel that way?", "How did you draw that conclusion?", or even just "Really?", said with a big smile, can throw your opponent completely off balance. Rephrasing their question to you, or their comment to you, in the same words they used can be another way to insist upon clarification, rather than just allowing the rudeness to remain unchecked. This way, you are not standing for the nonconstructive drivel, but are placing the onus on the speaker to explain themselves...and all in the name of better communication.

I am only a novice on the path of good communication. I have put my foot in my mouth up to my ankle. I have gone running with a work project in completely the wrong direction. I have gone to meetings on the wrong day, but the correct time. I have missed appointments. I have shown up when I was not expected. In truth, my own journey towards better communication will be a lifelong one. I hope by asking better questions, by listening carefully the answers, by considering all sides to a disagreement, and by basing my own answers on thoughtful facts, I can improve the way that I understand others....as well as saving myself from the painful foot from mouth extraction in the future.

Momentary Mindfulness

Don't be fooled by the calendar. There are only as many days in the year as you make use of. ~Charles Richards

If there is one lesson from living in Maine that I've learned the most strongly, it is to appreciate the magical days of summer. Before I have time to settle into a pattern, the summer has passed and the cold is inching its way into our lives. The warmth, the longer hours of daylight, the influx of new people visiting and the beautiful rhythm of tree frogs, bellowing at night, all make up a tapestry of moments. When viewed together, each one of these individual experiences can create a collage of summer memories. I can remember feelings that accompagnied entire summers. Some years were happier than others. Some seemed full of activity. Others seemed downright decadet in their languidness. But, each summer tends to incorporate feelings as a whole, just as if I can take a jam jar, bottle that particular year, and write "Hectic" or "Boating" or "Travel" on its label. Summers take on personalities. I have heard friends and family members all say "Don't you remember that incredibly hot year?" or "Do you remember the summer we all got sick?". The days and weeks and months become an amalgam of feelings regarding those months between Memorial Day and Labor Day.

Because our brains tend to process memories with labels, too often we lose the individual memories of specific events. We can recollect ideas, moods and overtones, but too many times we fail to capture snaphots of exact moments of perfection. It is my own belief that by allowing these times to be filed along with everything else in our brains, we tend to lose them as "too much paperwork". Yet, without those specific instances of reflection, we are left of vague images that all blur together. This happens to people with the very best of memories. We can only 'store' so much before our minds move into overload. And yet, without creating a way to remember special events, how can be certain that they won't be lost entirely? Pictures do help, of course. But, far too often, photos become posed, and then posed again ("Sit NEXT to your sister...") and the spirit of the image you take will not be the spontaneous twinkling you were hoping to capture.


So, what can we do? We can begin by practicing mindfulness. Mindfuless is defined as a "mental state, characterized by calm awareness of one's body functions, feelings, content of consciousness, or consciousness itself." This doesn't mean we move away from the experience or the action itself. It simply requires us to look at each experience with appreciation. The gratitude might be about being with your friends or your children. It could emcompass the way the sunshine feels on your face early the morning. It bring an increased attention to the sand between your toes at the beach. Or, it could be simply a feeling of thankfulness...for being alive at this very moment in time. Mindfulness doesn't mean we have to move away from the world to sit in meditation for hours at a time. Mindfulness can be the gift of perception that all is truly well...regardless of the circumstances. We can teach our minds and our hearts to appraise and assess our current surroundings, to cultivate a memory by saying "I want to remember sitting on the porch like this..." and to cultivate moments of grace in our appreciation.


Much of the time, our singleness of thought can lead to mindfulness. Have you ever said to yourself,"This has been such a wonderful day...I want it to last forever!" That is a powerful emotion, and with that powerful emotion comes long lasting memory. I can remember, when I was very young, a parade I was in with my cousins. I was terribly nervous, because I had never been in a parade before, and I could barely recollect seeing one. However, my cousins' hometown of Belvedere, California was hosting a small parade one summer. I didn't know how to ride a 'two wheeler' yet, so my aunt Nancy pulled out the kids' tricycle for me. I can vividly recall decorating that little bike with ribbons and bows, and festooning it to try to resemble a float. I can remember wriggling with excitement as my cousin, Lori, did my hair, and as I anticipated the start of the festivities. I can still feel my 4 year old feet on the pedals, reminding myself to keep pedaling, no matter what, and not to stop before the big kids. I was so afraid of making a mistake, falling over or just embarrassing myself, that I kept whispering to myself "Pedal...you can do it...a little bit more...pedal...you can do it...this is a special day..." Because I talked myself through this event with such reasoning and intention, I can remember the parade with exceptional clarity. I have more vivid images of this one day than I do of the rest of the years surrounding this parade, despite our having photographs to commemorate them. Why? It's because, without knowing it, I was practicing mindfulness. I was creating a memory pattern that I would never forget.

We can use mindfulness to create memories of simple, every day pleasures. I can remember breathing in my new babies' scent from the tops of their little heads, and just taking in that exact moment of experience, knowing that they would never be one day old again. I can resurrect my feelings from my wedding day by thinking about how it felt to let go of my father's arm, and pick up Jeff's,at the front of the church. I can recreate what it felt like to be skipping by mother's side, holding her hand, as we walked down 5th Avenue in New York City, just by catching the whiff of hot pretzels. Often, we don't even realize we're practicing mindfulness to create a memory. It just happens. We see a particular shade of green, and we're reminded of our grandmother's house. We taste a piece of pie, and in an instant, we're transported to our best friend's kitchen. Mindfulness doesn't just capture our thoughts, it can recall all five of our senses at the moment of that something special occurred.

If you could pick, what would choose to remember? What feelings, what sights, what smells and what sounds would you take in? If you could pick 'a best day to last forever' memory, what would it be? Perhaps your moment is one you take out of our heart and cherish. Perhaps it's an experience yet to come. For many of us, it's a bit of both. We can appreciate the joy we felt in the past, while still feeling an exceptional sense of excitement about the moments that lie ahead of us...just waiting for us to experience them. But, when you do...tell yourself "Keep pedaling..." and treasure that moment in your heart.


Memory is a way of holding onto the things you love, the things you are, the things you never want to lose. ~From the television show The Wonder Years