The art of listening

I have spent some time messing about with Instagram (photocat24) and am rediscovering the fast and easy happy feeling when receiving comments. My life is not that big and interesting, but it is big and interesting enough for me, and it’s fun to share little bits out of it via Instagram, a little free phone app that lets you take wonderful phone photographs. Easy peasy. I am aware that I often use the same two or 3 filters. A simple gal keeps it simple. I will snap some today of our art afternoon we are having. Sandra, Jessica and Olivia are coming over, and I have a gelli plate ready in the fridge. Honest to god. The plate will be fun. Maybe I will dash into town to get some extra water color paper. When the print bug is in my kitchen, I go through paper like a hot knife through frozen butter.

And why might I have been missing in action from my blog?

I got shocked. Seriously. The person who shocked me knows who he is, further elaborating is not needed. But lets say that the voltage was sufficient for a complete meltdown on my side. I had to install a new fuse box. It took me a couple of days to arrange things in my head, and now I am back in action. The level of aggression I got was PHEW, GET OUT OF HERE PHEW… DOG ON IT…

Why is it that communication with some people has to end in disaster? And why do people still feel the need to stump below the belt and kick where it hurts the most? I don’t know…

I guess it is uncertainty and not having a firm grip on their own life. Which goes for all of us on some days. We all have crabby days. The question is whether it is needed to work that crabbiness out on the wrong people.

Long time readers of this blog do know that I had a couple of “minor issues” with nuns in my school days… Serious issues that took me a long time to get over, most of the abuse has now been classified under done and dusted. But when I am tired and worn out, that’s when the old skeletons in the closet pop their ugly head out. Last week I was trying to have a conversation, but failed miserably because the other party did NOT want to listen at all. Not to my story. I did not have the correct mittens to get this little ciabatta bread out of the oven.

Lets make this story short: the other party claimed that my childhood nun experiences were fables and made up. Thank you other party. I will now cut you out of my life completely. I don’t need people who spit nastiness in my face without a solid reason, and I don’t need people who do not know how to listen.

It’s baffling how few people really know how to listen. The art of listening is on the decline. Few people get it that listening is easy. The other party does not need an answer, or justification. I keep preaching that when listening, the only correct thing to do to say : I have no answer for you and/or I don’t know what to say. Because that is what most talking people want to hear. We don’t want answers or being talked down or being hit with sayings that it will get better… When down in a well you don’t want to hear that you might get back out. All you want is someone to acknowledge that you are at the bottom of the well. From that point on one can start looking on how to get back out. If that at all is the goal in the first place.

I must say though that someone not really knowing me telling me that my childhood “was not that bad was it? Your stories are all fables!” really kicked ass. Telling an abused person that it was after all not that bad is grove negligence.  And pretty unforgivable in my book. How many times can a donkey hit the same stone and hurt its foot? I have been a donkey.

Having said all that, for the same bit I did have friends who I could tell the story of the meltdown to, they did listen, telling me that they had no words. Which was what I needed. Badly.

The new fuse box is now working and in full swing, and I do have one person less to worry about in my life. Which is good. It’s hard to realize that relationships with certain kinds of people are not livable. They are a dead born child to say it with a flemish saying. Gutwrenching to experience and totally bad ass energy. I will move on in the knowledge that what goes around comes around.

Sow the wind and reap the whirlwind.

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8 thoughts on “The art of listening

  1. WOW! Another example of the lack of respect in this very unkind world. There is no mutual relationship without it. Sorry you had to discover you didn’t have a friend to begin with, but you do not lack people who care and respect you!

  2. Wow just wow how dare this person say that to you. I for one and my brother as well know that there are some very mean nuns out there and I know that you had it worse than we did. So glad the day turned out better with your paper making and friends around you.

  3. I’m completely at a loss. Why in the world would someone who wasn’t there tell you that your experiences were all untrue? They may have only been exposed to the story book kindly nuns, but the others exist and there are more than enough stories about them to prove that out. I’m so sorry you were hurt. But on the happy side, somewhere in the post, between the hot, humid South and the cool English summer, is something that I hope will make you smile!

  4. Have a wonderful time with the gelli plates! ArtTherapy. You may know the old Native American saying – Until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes…don’t judge. Your story Cat also reminds me that “hurt people hurt people”. Big hugs.

  5. I love you, and understand those blown boxes. Happy Instagramming; that is an app made for you!

  6. I’m sorry that happened to you, Catherine. You and I shared nun stories when you were in Phoenix, and I can certainly relate. However, even if I had no idea what you went through, I would never, EVER, suggest that you didn’t actually go through it! Good riddance to abuse and abusers. Moving forward!

  7. Your planned day of friends and art sounds wonderful! Would so love to be amongst you all. You are blessed to have them in your life and it is so unfortunate that someone you don’t even know comes along and lashes out. He must have his own demons to even attempt to tell you that yours don’t exist, don’t you think? The world is full of people in denial about truthful, factual, recorded events let alone events they were never a part of. I’m weary of trying to figure people out…people are so on edge at this time in history, and for valid reasons. Have a wonderful day, and paint yourself into a beautiful mood!

  8. Hope you enjoy your Art afternoon with friends who appreciate your company.There is always one who seems to delight in upsetting you, their words can be so cruel.
    Glad you are beginning to feel better.

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