When it seems all is lost, listen
I went to an authors' talk a few days ago at Wellesley College. Andrew Forsthoefel, a 2011 graduate of Middlebury College (same year as my daughter graduated from college), was talking about his book Walking to Listen. I had seen an article about him in the Boston Globe a few months earlier, and because I believe that our current political climate demands that we LISTEN to people, I was intrigued by his story.
I sent him an e-mail, and he got back to me and let me know about his book and his talk at Wellesley.
Hoping to pick up some pointers about how to get people to talk to me, I attended his presentation - and bought his book.
Today I started reading his book. It seemed like my best option - given that the House was on the verge of passing Trumpcare and I needed to get my mind off of what this means for people like my daughter who have a pre-existing condition.
As I read, I realized that Andrew was not going to give me any nuggets of wisdom about how to make my goal of listening to strangers any easier. I did find out that Andrew was scared about approaching people - not just about being rejected, but about being physically attacked. His mother's landlord sent him off with these words of wisdom: "Don't trust anybody". The whole point to him WAS TO TRUST PEOPLE.
He felt foolish at first. He thought that "a lifestyle of comfort and consumption inhibits peoples' ability to make a pilgrimage."
After reading fifty pages, I realized that Andrew would have no trouble getting people to talk to him. "And then there was serendipity, that inexplicable cascade of just-so conditions that moves your right where you didn't know you wanted to be, to people you didn't know you were looking for."
I realized that I want to listen to people, but I want it to be on my terms, on my schedule - to fit into my idea of what the future will look like.
After meeting Andrew, and reading some of his book (I am a slow reader), I know that I will renew my efforts to listen to people, and to be open to who they are and what they have to tell me.
I sent him an e-mail, and he got back to me and let me know about his book and his talk at Wellesley.
Hoping to pick up some pointers about how to get people to talk to me, I attended his presentation - and bought his book.
Today I started reading his book. It seemed like my best option - given that the House was on the verge of passing Trumpcare and I needed to get my mind off of what this means for people like my daughter who have a pre-existing condition.
As I read, I realized that Andrew was not going to give me any nuggets of wisdom about how to make my goal of listening to strangers any easier. I did find out that Andrew was scared about approaching people - not just about being rejected, but about being physically attacked. His mother's landlord sent him off with these words of wisdom: "Don't trust anybody". The whole point to him WAS TO TRUST PEOPLE.
He felt foolish at first. He thought that "a lifestyle of comfort and consumption inhibits peoples' ability to make a pilgrimage."
After reading fifty pages, I realized that Andrew would have no trouble getting people to talk to him. "And then there was serendipity, that inexplicable cascade of just-so conditions that moves your right where you didn't know you wanted to be, to people you didn't know you were looking for."
I realized that I want to listen to people, but I want it to be on my terms, on my schedule - to fit into my idea of what the future will look like.
After meeting Andrew, and reading some of his book (I am a slow reader), I know that I will renew my efforts to listen to people, and to be open to who they are and what they have to tell me.
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