Other people love us, and sometimes they forget

So much of life
is so agonized by wising, wanting, demanding
that some one,
or some ones
appreciate or love or approve of us more.


Trick and truth is:
they do love us.
They may be capable of appreciating us.
They may have the generosity to approve of us.
They may not.

And they do love us.

They just don't know it.

This is an exercise from the book, for sale to the right:
And it's a doozy.

Take someone with whom things seem not to be "going so well,"
and write a if from them to you,
a pretend
letter
to you.


In that letter say exactly what you want to hear.

This is them.

If the letter is kind and loving and apologetic and open
and insightful and seeing how you and they are the same,
and admiring and loving you.

This is who they really are.

You'll feel it.
You'll notice it.

They might never notice nor ever feel this love.

Oh, well.
It's there.

Life is good.

Just relax when someone can't come through with the goods.

Life is good.

They would love you if they could.

They are afraid,
or don't know how to love,
or are afraid to love more,
or afraid to love at all,
or never really learned how to love.

And where are they going to learn?

You loving them, even when they forget that
they love
you.

That's one way they'll learn.

And another: they'll discover the pain of not loving themselves,
and stop.
If they are wise and alert and notice what's what.

If not, they'll keep suffering and
not yet knowing how to love you,
and so be it.

Love them all you can.

They are you, when you forget how much
love you have.

When you forget how much love,
you
are.

Good.

Improving a Relationship: Listening with Feedback

This is so simple.
And it works.

It works because it violates several of the habits
of the conversations
that we have that either "get nowhere"
or
"go downhill fast."

It violates the habit of interrupting when we get worked up
about what the other said.

It violates the habit of defending ourselves before we've really
considered the "other side."

It violates the habit of:
"What I have to say is important. You, shut up and listen."

It violates the central habit of arguing, the two sided game
of
"I'm Right and you are Wrong."
"No, no, you've got it backwards: I'm Right and you're Wrong."

And you've heard of it before,
it's called reflexive listening.

And here it is again.

1. Get a timer. Set it for two minutes.
Let your partner have their turn.
They say anything they want for the two minutes.
You say nothing.

2. After the two minutes, you repeat back to them
what you heard.
No interpretations.
No defending.
Just what they said.
Pause. Breathe.

3. Ask them of you missed anything.
 a. If so, have them repeat what you missed
 b. And you repeat back what you missed.
 c. And you asked again, Did I miss anything there?
 d. If not, move on. If yes, go back to 3.a.

4. Now it's your turn.
You talk for two minutes.
"Your side" of the issue.
Or just what's important to say, having heard and listened to
what they said.
Go slowly.
Don't try to be right.
Try to talk from your feelings and wishes, leaving out
any criticisms ( including criticisms of them for being
critical. One person at a time wising up)
Talk from what you want and you wish for and the solution
you'd like to see.

Go really slow and actually listen to yourself,
your voice tone, your undercurrent messages, your needs or wants or feelings.
Try to sense your body as you talk.

Which is to say: As much as you can, be present.

5. The timer rings ( later, you can go up to 3 or 4 minutes,
you'll have to discover how long you can listen and still hear it
all and repeat it back). You stop.

They tell you what they heard and ask if they missed anything.

6. And so on.


You'll  know you're really getting somewhere when you're as interested in
their side of things as you are in your own.

This is your life.
You supposedly love this person.
This is a chance to make things better.

Take it.