Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force. The friends who listen to us are the ones we move toward. When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us unfold and expand.
—Anonymous
The greatest motivational act one person can do for another is to listen.
—Anonymous
This month the topic for Robert Hruzek’s group writing project is What I Learned From…Odd Jobs. Robert wants to hear about the strangest, most unusual job we’ve ever had. Since I’m a volunteer at heart, I’m not restricting myself to activities I’ve been paid for. I figure if it was something that required commitment for a reasonable length of time, it counts.
My most unusual job, then, was listening to an acquaintance for at least two hours a session, two or three times a week for several months. The woman in question was in her late 60s, had worked most of her life, and was facing retirement. It was time for her to move on, but she couldn’t imagine what she would do without work to structure her life. So she tackled the problem by talking through it. And when I say talking, that was it. She wanted no comments or other interruptions from me. My job was simply to listen the whole time.
If you’ve ever been in a situation like that, you know how hard it is to be just a listening post, with all of your own experience, thoughts and talents pushed aside. I sometimes felt I could easily have been replaced by a tape recorder or by a friendly pet.
How did I get into that situation?
I didn’t expect it to be like that. I assumed she would be thinking on her own and wanted someone to bounce ideas off of. That’s what works for me. I find changes are more fun when I try things and share the results with someone else. When I discovered she didn’t want that, I did try to make the interaction less mind-numbing for me. I actually brought a timer and suggested we take turns talking and listening. That idea lasted about ten minutes. Then she ignored the timer and kept talking.
Why Did I Continue?
So why didn’t I just call it quits? I asked myself that question more than once, and the answer was always: it felt like the right thing to do. The sessions were clearly doing her a lot of good, so I decided to keep going until she had made her transition. She wasn’t talking for the sake of talking, she was seriously working towards something. The process wasn’t going to go on forever. And, in fact, after several months she was started in her new life. She signed up for some courses at the local university and became involved in causes that she cared about.
What I Learned From the Experience
What did I learn? I learned how much I care about making a contribution, something to make this world a slightly friendlier, more loving place. I had always believed that one of the best ways to do that was to listen deeply to another person. But after this experience I learned that I have to pay attention to my own interests and talents, too. So I started looking for situations where I could be more than just a warm body, a listening post. I’m not at all sorry I had this experience, but I don’t feel obligated to ever do it again. Instead I’m living by my motto,
Find what you love to do and find a way to share it with others.
There are all sorts of ways of making a contribution. And there’s no rule that says you can’t have fun doing it.
What about you? What has been your most unusual job? Do you have an urge to make a contribution? If so, how do you go about it? Please share your thoughts and experience in the comments section.
Thanks to bikehikebabe for commenting on last week’s post.
This post is also part of Marcus Goodyear’s Lessons From Odd Jobs group writing project.