Anyone who answers without listening is foolish and confused.
Proverbs 18:13 EXB
My wife was walking through our neighborhood and met a woman who had just moved in a few doors down. They were standing in her driveway swapping stories and getting acquainted. It was a chance to help the new neighbor feel welcome.
As they were talking, another neighbor who lived next door on a higher lot walked out to the fence and started yelling. “Your tree is too tall,” he said. “It’s blocking my view. Don’t you know we have rules about that around here? I’m going to report you to the association.” He continued his venomous attack until his wife came out and pulled him back inside.
I’m sure our new neighbor was thinking, What in the world have we gotten into? A couple of weeks later, they had the tree removed. I’m guessing she had some long discussions with her husband about the incident, and they probably weren’t very positive. They had been attacked and naturally formed an opinion about their neighbor.
I’ve had occasional conversations with this man in the past. He’s always seemed a little eccentric but never vicious. But a few months ago, he met me in my driveway. He said, “I’ve seen you leading a seminar a few times in your driveway about three o’clock in the morning, playing music from the back of your car. You had chairs set up, and the noise woke me up. So I got up to see what was going on and saw the lights on at your place. I was just wondering what that was all about.”
I’ve never led a seminar in my driveway at three o’clock in the morning. I don’t know that I’ve ever seen three o’clock in the morning.
That was my first clue that something was wrong. We learned that he’s experiencing dementia that appeared rather suddenly. He’s become much more forceful, and we’ve seen other family members around the house to take care of him.
Our new neighbors didn’t have that perspective. It would have been natural for them to begin a negative relationship, seeing this elderly man as the enemy. But a new perspective changes the way we experience things.
Someone said, “In the absence of data, we tend to make things up.” That’s why it’s important to keep talking about hard issues. If we don’t, we won’t know what the other person is thinking. So we start believing our made-up perspectives, imagining things that aren’t there and assuming they’re true.
When people have an issue with someone else, they are often uncomfortable talking to them about it. So they take the easier path, which is to talk with everyone else instead of that person. Any time we talk about people without talking to them, we run the risk of damaging our relationship with them. The only way to build healthy relationships is to go directly to the person involved, even if it’s challenging.
Haters in the Shadows
Authors discover this quickly. People read their books, form opinions, and write them in book reviews, blog posts, or other publications. If they disagree with the author, they often write scathing reviews about the book. But they often critique the author’s character as well.
I’ve always found it interesting that these critics present their opinions so strongly and confidently, but they’ve never had a conversation with the author. They speak from the shadows, saying things they might never say face-to-face.
Years ago, after my first book was published, I read a review a college professor published in his school’s alumni journal. He said that while the book was one of the best books on the subject he had ever read, he was concerned that I had quoted people he considered to be the most damaging to what he believed and taught. It was guilt by association. Since I quoted them, he assumed I agreed with their entire position and was siding with the enemy. As a result, he couldn’t recommend the book.
When I read that, I was more disappointed than angry. He was entitled to disagree with me, but he told others that I held a position I didn’t. I believe that even people I disagree with say some really intelligent things occasionally, and I’m comfortable quoting them. Evidently, he didn’t share that opinion, and he used that as the basis of his critique. He wasn’t attacking just my content; he was attacking my character.
If he and I had sat down over coffee, we could have talked about it. He could have said, “Here’s my concern about what you wrote, and here’s what I’m planning to say about it. But I’d really like to hear your perspective before I do that.”
If that had happened, I might actually be okay with a negative review from him. If he had showed me enough respect to connect first, he wouldn’t be speaking from the shadows.
Dancing Alone
When a conversation gets tough, many people simply disappear. They don’t like conflict, so they disengage from the other person to avoid confrontation. But at the same time, they put their feelings in writing where they can be aggressive without having to deal with the other person’s response. They might also start talking to others about what the person is doing.
Communication is kind of like being on a dance floor with a partner, and we’re trying to dance together. Dancing isn’t an exact science, and success depends on being attentive and responsive to what the other person is doing. We can’t ignore each other.
When we criticize someone behind their back, it’s like ignoring our partner on the dance floor. Instead of trying to work with them, we simply criticize every move they make. We yell about their lack of skill and how inferior they are to us. We’re dancing alone instead of dancing together.
A good friend of mine owns a contracting business. It can be a cutthroat field in which lawsuits are often assumed even before a project begins. Most communication takes place through email. He told me that those email conversations often escalate quickly, and each reply becomes more heated and vicious than the last. In a matter of a few hours, tempers flare and accusations are made. “It just becomes the way people communicate,” he said. “It’s all being done in writing, and it’s easier for people to yell when they’re not sitting across the table from each other.”
He said that when the first email comes through that hints at rising emotion, he doesn’t reply. He simply picks up the phone and says, “Hey, I got your email. What’s going on? Let’s talk about it.” Sometimes he’ll take the time to drive across town to have lunch with someone just so they can look each other in the eyes and share their perspectives. “It doesn’t matter how tough they are or how heated they sound in writing,” he says. “Almost everybody softens when you sit down with them.”
That’s a key principle: We can’t text a tough conversation. The tougher a situation gets, the more we need to move toward face-to-face connection and attempt to see the other person’s perspective.
Different Views
So how can people who are so different work together when conversations get tough? We need to look through the other person’s eyes and see what they see—not so we can agree with them but so we can understand them.
My wife and I saw a sculpture in front of an office complex that demonstrates the concept well. We stood on opposite sides of it, knowing that we were looking at the same sculpture. From her side, it was obviously a slim, attractive girl wrapped in a delicate gown. But from my side, it was a huge nose with a giant nostril at the bottom.
We could describe what we saw and think the other person was completely crazy. She could wonder why I was chuckling at the absurdity of the statue, while I could wonder how she could think it was beautiful. We could argue all day about what we saw because it was so obvious to us. Then we could drive home in silence, feeling like the other person was just being stubborn.
What could we do differently? I could walk to her side and see what she was seeing. Then we could walk over to my side and see what I was seeing. Then we could hold hands and explore the statue together because we had seen each other’s point of view.
Fear of Footwork
When two people dance together, they have a common goal. They want to have a pleasant experience and enjoy each other’s company. When it works, it’s magic. Things can happen on the dance floor that never happen when we’re alone or standing still.
Before my daughter’s wedding, my wife and I took a few ballroom dance lessons. I knew there would be the obligatory father-daughter dance, and I didn’t want to be embarrassed. But it was more than that. I wasn’t concerned about only myself and how people saw me. I was also concerned about my relationship with my daughter. Next to my wife, she’s the most important girl in my entire world. It was her special day, and I wanted to give her the focus she deserved. I wanted to dance well for her, not for me. I don’t know that I succeeded technically, and she probably had some bruises to show for the experience. But sharing that dance with her was one of the highlights of my life. My relationship with her was important enough to put in the work.
Dancing isn’t a scripted exercise. There are patterns that have to be learned, but a couple improvises based on what they’re feeling individually. They don’t know exactly what the other person will do and how they’ll respond to each other’s moves. It can be messy for a while, and people step on each other’s toes. Nobody is in control, and that can feel uncomfortable.
That’s how it is with conversations. When they get tough, we can get frustrated when the other person doesn’t respond the way we expect. Conversations can be messy and really uncomfortable. But to keep our conversations healthy, we need to remember one thing: we gotta keep dancing.
How do we learn to dance together? We take lessons. We work on the basic patterns and then learn how to use them to improve. We get better and try new things. We learn how to anticipate the unexpected from our partner and how to respond appropriately.
Learning to dance is a lot like learning to communicate effectively:
“But they’re being unreasonable,” you say. “They’re the problem. They need to change, or we’ll never figure this out!”
That might be true in both dancing and communication. If we both feel the other person needs to change before anything can happen, we’re at an impasse. There are always two perspectives, which is what provides the potential for great solutions. It takes humility to admit that we might need to change as well.
It’s easy to focus on the other person’s clumsiness. But if we want rich conversation, we have to put in the work to master the steps. Maybe one person learns quicker than the other and gets frustrated. They get their toes stepped on. Instead of quitting, they keep practicing until they learn to sense the other person’s moves. Little by little, they find success.
We know the value of vibrant communication, and we work toward it. But when challenging issues arise, it’s easy to stomp on each other’s feet. Our energy goes toward attacking each other instead of toward resolving the issue. No matter how tough the conversation becomes, we need to constantly remind ourselves—and each other—of the most important perspective: if a relationship has value, it’s worth the effort.
We might have to say, “I’m so frustrated with you right now that I can hardly see straight. But I’m not giving up, and I’m not going away. You’re worth it. We’re worth it.” We might have to walk off the dance floor so we can calm down. But the separation is temporary and always includes the commitment to come back and keep dancing.
Dance Practice
This dance takes place every time we interact with another person. The give-and-take of negotiating a business transaction, dealing with a client’s objections, or interacting with a friend at church means we’re dancing every day. We have plenty of chances to practice in our casual relationships, preparing us for connection in those relationships that matter most to us.
Think about sitting with a salesperson in a car showroom trying to get the best price on a vehicle. They might be outgoing and friendly or quiet and seemingly sincere. If you’ve had bad experiences with car salespeople in the past, you’ll be watching their dance moves to see if you can trust them. What they say determines what you say, which determines how they respond, which determines your next action. It’s like dancing with a stranger, trying to figure out what they’re going to do next. Instead of seeing them as the enemy who has to be beaten, you focus on the issue at hand: getting the car you want in a way that provides an honest outcome for both you and the salesperson.
This morning I saw a mini-dance as I waited to board a cross-country flight. A passenger stood in line as the gate agent checked people in. Suddenly, he recognized her as someone from his past and approached her with a hug. “How are you? Wow! It’s been so long since I’ve seen you. How have you been?”
“Good,” she said. “Really good. How about you?”
“Good. Really, really good.”
“That’s good,” she said. “Is your family good?”
“Yeah, they’re really good,” he said. “How about your kids?”
“Oh, yeah, they’re good. They’re all good.”
“Good, good. Really good,” he responded.
It was funny to watch, because they were trying to dance. They tried to connect, but they were taking baby steps. Neither was sure what to say, so they said everything was good. Eventually, he boarded the plane as their awkward conversation ended, and she went back to her duties at the gate. (She was probably still wondering who he was.)
I don’t fault them, because we all find ourselves in that situation. Sometimes we don’t know what to say, so we just exchange a few “goods” and move on when the conversation gets uncomfortable. But if a relationship is one that two people value, they keep dancing. They keep exploring their common ground and their perspectives to find ways to connect more fully.
Value motivates us to continue the dance. Focusing on the value of our relationships gives us the reason to stay committed to the dance when things get tough.
Practical Steps for Gaining Perspective
So we’ve decided to stay in the dance. What can we do to build those rhythms and smooth out the footwork to facilitate healthy conversations? Here are some practical steps: