I have a question that I always ask when I give a training to a group, or begin coaching sessions with a new client. It’s probably the key-est of the key questions, because the answer determines so much.
What about how you talk is causing problems for other people?
That’s it. That’s the question.
What don’t others like about how you communicate?
If you can answer this question -- if you are willing, even eager, to go through a process that will answer this question -- then you should sit through one of my workshops, or listen to one of my talks, or jabber away with me one-on-one.
Because you are ready to deeply investigate -- and fix/improve -- one your primary human skills: the ability to talk to others in ways that they enjoy.
In order to be enjoyed, you have to get rid of your non-enjoyables.
And do you know who defines those?
Other people.
We can all become aware of our communication liabilities deficits, but only when we listen to feedback. Because a lot of times you may be doing something that has always been part of how you talk, no one has openly commented on it before, and you do it without even being aware that you’re doing it.
But it’s actually a real problem, one that diminishes the enjoyment others have when they talk to you.
To find your weak spots, you have to get feedback from others.
Let me tell you a quick story about one of my “feedbacks,” a lesson in my own dysfunction that I had to learn.
My daughter once told me that she didn’t like it when I joked around when she was upset. That I joked too much when she came to me with a problem.
Which, yes. I do. I do joke. I don’t put on a clown suit anytime someone is sad, but my default reaction to sadness, or anxiety, or hurt -- or really any of the negative emotions -- is to mix at least some lightness into the communication. Not a ton of it, but I almost always inject some humor. Because, to me, it feels like a salve. A momentary reprieve. A nod toward the light at the end of the tunnel. It says this isn’t so bad that we can’t also still connect to the light side of things.
That was my theory.
Which failed miserably for her.
Maybe it was because I didn’t do the entire sequence well. To add lightness you need to do empathetic communication. You have to earn the lite moments. Which you do by matching someone where they are, acknowledging and validating their emotions, expressing support, being authentically connected and just listening. Maybe I don’t do those as well as lightness. In fact, let’s just say that is ture -- I don’t do those as well as lightness. I’m not nearly as good or natural about nurturing someone through bad experiences. I do it, but I don’t think I do it well.
But it’s what my daughter needed me to do well. And she’s very important to me.
So I adjusted. I recognized this liability of joking too much, and I recognized my deficits in doing good empathy comms, and I set out to get better.
And, a few months later, my daughter mentioned to me that she appreciated the changes I had made.
Don’t get me wrong. She didn’t feel I was going it perfectly. And I still have other things in my communication with her that don’t quite measure up (and she has a few of her own that have needed tweaking, we all do), but we’re betttttter.
And better -- growing towards good, growing towards great -- is all we can ask for.
So, I ask you -- what are your communication liabilities and deficits?
And do you want to make them better?