One story

I had the radio on in the background as I worked. I could hear the start of a call-in program, but blocked it out - until I heard a woman saying she hadn't spoken with her sister in over 20 years.

That was a story I knew about. My sister and I could go for years at a time hunkered into painful silence. This woman was clearly in pain and hadn't the slightest idea what to do.

The host of the show is a PhD. psychologist, who is both caring and knowledgeable in a very broad range of psychological issues. Her advice to this woman was spoken with kindness and concern. Her advice was that life is short and a sister is too valuable to lose...couldn't she just let the conflict go? Now, this woman had been grappling with this separation for 20 years. Letting it go is one of the first strategies we try to use when we finally realize we are estranged and still care about someone. This woman needed something before she could let it go. She needed to be heard. More importantly, she needed her sister to hear her.

When yet another caller brought up a painful family estrangement - this time with a wedding on the horizon that would bring the family together - I had to call.

I'm a mediator. After September 11 I started giving free conflict resolution workshops in libraries around the state. At the end of the workshops I would challenge people to resolve a conflict in their own lives. The second time I made this request I was feeling pretty uncomfortable. My sister and I had not been on speaking terms for three years. If I was going to be asking people to "get down in the peace trenches" and resolve a conflict themselves...I was going to have to go there too.

It took us six months (and a wedding on the horizon) to come to the table and four hours at the table. Three hours into it I found myself digging in. I was listening to things my sister was saying that were simply not true. The barebones might be what happened - a statement made, a question asked - but the interpretations and meanings that she was giving them were not. These interpretations were extremely painful to hear...and, as I said...they were Wrong.

I had a choice at that point. I could persist in trying to sort out what she was saying that was "right" and what she was saying that was "wrong." Or I could face the one truth we shared: she was in pain and I was in pain...and I could start by acknowledging hers. I'd love to say it was that easy. It wasn't.

I teach this stuff. I use it in mediations. I couldn't do it. I went completely numb; I couldn't think; I couldn't feel anything. That was all I could say, "I can't think; I don't feel anything; I'm numb." The mediator asked if I'd like a break...would I like to take a moment outside?

It's hard to explain...though I'm quite convinced others experience something very similar. Nothing in me wanted to let go of "I'm right." There was, in fact, a palpable sense of fear and danger in letting it go. The hamster wheel of my mind went round and round:"...If I'm not right...then she is...and I'm wrong and and and I'm NOT...SHE is...that's not..." I went outside and sat on the steps. I cried. I tried to remember the steps of Nonviolent Communication...I knew I should empathize. But I couldn't.

So I sat on the steps and cried and breathed. And in a few minutes I was less numb; I could feel my butt on the cool, stone steps. I could think again. I could feel. I knew there had to be some truth or something of importance in what Peg was saying. What was it? At that point the fear stopped. I was curious and concerned. I could "see" Peggy again, rather than our differences. I got up. I didn't know what I was going to say, but I could feel our connection and I'd speak from there.

When we returned to the table, Peggy spoke first. She retracted one of the conclusions she had been drawing. She had heard me and she acknowledged it. That offering opened wide the door I'd started to crack open on the office steps. I spoke my own version of acknowledgment. And with that, we set to rebuilding the foundation of our sistering.

I doubt this project, Interdependence Day, would have seen the light of day without her help and unflagging faith.

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I wish I could tell you it will be easy. It might, but don't count on it.
I wish I could tell you that all mediations work. They don't.
Or that all mediators are skillful. They're not.

The work of Listening well is an emerging human faculty. Awareness of it is percolating throughout our culture. Though few of us have a gift for it, we can develop it. Listening, with genuine curiosity, is a powerful antidote for what separates us.

Listening is not something we are taught, nor is it second nature to us, particularly when a situation is touched with the charged energy of conflict. I think of developing our ability to listen as a generational strategy. Sometimes, when I read or listen to the news, I wonder if it isn't more of an evolutionary process. My fondest hope is that, with persistence, learning the skills to listen well will take us less time than it took us to develop the opposable thumb.

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Check out Trails, Tools & Tips for ideas and strategies that can help you become more effective in facing and resolving conflict...