Guidepost Nine: The Power of Contribution and Compensation (Aka Episode 52)
A Whackadoodle discussion with my student, in which I share some advice from my father.
She’d seemed particularly pensive during our tutoring session, so as she was packing her books to leave, I had to asked, “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, it’s fine,” she said and kept packing. Suddenly, she sat back in her chair with a thump and asked, “Have you ever had to deal with someone who interrupts you all the time? And I don’t mean just interrupts you. Someone who doesn’t wait for the end of your story before needing to tell their own. It’s like your story suddenly inspires them to tell their own story, which is so much interesting than hearing yours?”
My brain instantly started laughing. “You mean like when you start to express your opinion, and they immediately feel the need to express their own opinion without listening to yours?”
She began to nod. “They do that also, don’t they?”
“Yeah, they do. And to be honest, I’ve been known to do it myself.”
“So what do you do when it happens?”
“You mean when I do it, or when someone else does it?”
Her face scrunched up, she was thinking so hard. “I feel like I’m supposed to say both.”
“What do you want to say?”
She hesitated. “I think maybe both?”
“Before I answer, can I ask why it bothers you so much?”
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “But it just feels like they just take over. They might think that they’re helping, but they’re really just taking over, and I don’t like it when people just take over. It’s like they think they know everything, and I know nothing. I have actually had people plan my whole day for me without even asking what I think.”
“I don’t suppose you would like to provide details.”
“Not on the Internet, no.”
“Okay, well, in answer to your question, when I notice myself taking over, I try to sit back and take my father’s advice. He used to tell this story about how when people are talking, you should wait ten seconds before responding, just in case they hadn’t finished talking, and to also give yourself some time to take in what they had said, possibly even choose your reaction rather than reacting without thought. Problem is, for a long time, I never took his advice. I would hear what he’d said, but I would always assume that I already knew the end of his story, so I would start talking without waiting the ten seconds, or even asking what he had learned during those ten seconds. I mean, let’s face it, waiting ten seconds for a Choleric is like waiting forever. But one day, I actually asked him what those ten seconds did for him.”
“So, what did they do?” she asked after waiting ten seconds.
“They taught him that a lot of the time there is no need to talk at all because the other person would just keep talking. He said that it worked really well for him as a shy kid, and I expect that it kept him out of many an argument. I also remember nearly falling on the floor with laughter when he told me.”
“I don’t get it.”
“It’s because sometimes reacting or talking won’t change a thing. Sometimes people really don’t care, or will never accept what you think. Sometime listening is your best choice. Sometimes asking a question is your best choice. Sometime excusing yourself from the room to take a walk, or soak in a bath, is your best choice. And sometimes, your best choice is to speak up because you actually have something worth saying. The ten seconds gives you the time you need to make that choice.”
“So it’s kind of like that story you tell about praying fifty times a day.”
“Now, I’m not sure if I get it.”
“Well, it’s like the fable you told me last week about listening to your moral compass, but instead of praying, ‘Have I done well?’, you ask yourself, ‘What is my best choice right now?’ Does that make sense?”
“I certainly does.”
“And what do you do when someone else does it?”
“Same answer. You can’t be responsible for what other people do. You are only responsible for what you do. So the ten seconds gives you a chance to decide what to do. Some people are so anxious to write their own story that they never really take yours in, and in most cases, it’s best to just let them. It’s only occasionally that you have to take a stand.”
“But when do you take a stand?”
“When you have evidence that what they are saying is wrong, and you decide that taking a stand could make a difference.”
“So you think they do it’s because they’re anxious?”
“I think listening to others is a gift you give to them, and sometimes even to yourself. People don’t always know how to give that gift back to you, and it is pointless to fault them for it.”
“But what does that say about Compensation and Contribution?” she asked suddenly. “If I listen to others, aren’t they supposed to listen to me?”
“I suppose in an ideal world, but this is not an ideal world.”
“But isn’t that what this Guidepost means? That I will get back what I put out?”
“Oh wow,” I replied, slapping my head. “I see the problem now. You’ve been seeing Guidepost Nine as a promise when it’s really more of a warning. What you put out will return to you. Anger begets anger. Violence begets violence. Ignorance begets ignorance. What other people put out is up to them. You can’t control that. You might be able to influence it, but you can’t control it.”
“I know that, but I still don’t get it. I mean why is Guidepost Nine a warning?”
“Because maybe, if you keep receiving something that you don’t like from someone, you need to look at what you have been giving. I have a very dear friend who is always offering help that I don’t want, need, or ask for, then she gets upset because I don’t appear grateful for all the help and advice she gives. Well, the reason I don’t appear grateful is because I’m not really feeling grateful. I’m kind of feeling taken over like you said before.”
“So, it’s like when someone wants you to attend a party that you don’t want to attend, but they keep pushing you until you say, ‘Fine, okay.’ Then they get upset because you didn’t have a good time?”
“Yeah, it’s kind of like that.”
“But why don’t you tell your friend how you’re feeling?”
“Because of the ten seconds,” I replied. “I know that if I tell her how I feel, it will only make her feel bad, or angry, or worse. Why would I want to do that to a dear friend?”
“But how will she ever learn?”
“I don’t think it’s my job to teach her.”
“But then it will keep happening!”
“Unless I change my response,” I half smiled. “So far, I have chosen not to do so because she is not ready to learn, or at least she is not ready to learn from me. When I need to put my foot down, I do. When I need to set a boundary, I can.” I looked at her frustrated face. “I guess what I’m trying to explain is that Guidepost Nine is subtle. It has nuance. Sometimes the only thing you get back from what you contribute to a situation is wisdom about what, or what not, to contribute next time; but I do like to think that wisdom is always it’s own form of compensation.”
In high school I had a terrible time making small talk at a party. So, when I had an assignment to write an essay I chose to write about participating in a conversation. One of the books I read taught about listening. It said most people don’t listen because they’re too busy deciding what they are going to say. It recommended focused listening and waiting 10 seconds before responding. It gave you time to decide what you wanted to say. At the end of ten seconds someone else was talking I never had to say anything. It made participating in a conversation much easier. I never had to say anything.