About two weeks ago, one of my best friends sent along an email with a link to an article which appeared on the website “The Art of Manliness.” I’ve mentioned that internet destination here before (actually turned this friend onto it), as well as the embarrassing truth that it was my wife that suggested to me about a year ago that I needed to regularly visit the site. This most recent link from my buddy was to a post entitled “15 tips to better listening” (click here to read) and the electronic message he included read simply “thought you might appreciate this.” It’s funny, I thought my buddy would appreciate some instruction too…so I did a couple google searches and sent back a cut-and-pasted article entitled “How to be a better friend by avoiding the urge to send insulting emails.”
Well…despite the offence...I read the article...and while I hate to admit it, it was pretty good. There were a host of suggestions that were quite helpful, and several recognizable sins (including number 15 which warned of the pitfalls when pretending to listen or faking interest), of which I am frequently culpable. As often happens when I go to that web address, this visit to improve my poor listening skills also enabled me to stumble across a related article on the paramount importance of eye contact. Given this is yet another area where I’m woefully below average (truly…that’s an understatement), I was especially grateful for the well-written piece regarding how one might improve in this critical area of visual communication.
While the email and listening link were helpful, I’m still tripping on my friend’s email message and the suggestion that I would enjoy receiving it. Like most human beings that lie about craving constructive criticism, I don’t really dig having my need to improve in some area pointed out to me by others. Perhaps the sting of the corrective link could have been tempered with a different accompanying message…maybe something like “here’s a link to something you don’t need to read” or “I’m passing this along guessing you authored this great piece.” However, even when tempered with such softening, I think I’d still rather get a link to a different kind of story.
You see, without even a whole lot of effort, I can think of a myriad of article links on a host of different subjects that would have been far more flattering to receive. Even in the pre-dawn fog of a Friday morning and just off the top of my head…I can think of about 10 titles that would have been more apropos. They could have included any number of the fitting suggestions listed below.
· 3 clear signs you’re already a great listener
· 7 reasons why people want to be like YOU
· 5 tips to make others comfortable with your justifiable confidence
· 10 tips on making the most of your infectious charisma
· 10 reasons why god had you in mind when he invented mirrors
· 8 reasons your blog is great even though nobody reads it
· 5 easy ways to match your wardrobe to your rugged good looks
· 20 reasons why your chiseled frame doesn’t need Insanity or PBX 90
· 11 reasons why your increasingly gray hair really does look distinguished
· 5 insights into why your soft midsection is even hotter than a toned six pack
I understand the desire to pass along seemingly helpful information because there are any number of website articles I’d like to pass onto a host of folks that I think could be useful. Once again, without even thinking, I can conjure up more than a few people that could benefit greatly from any one of the following posts:
· 10 reasons why ear-hair should be mowed…or at least combed
· 1 helpful hint regarding the intended function of the top button of your dress shirt
· 8 reasons why combing your hair isn’t selling out to the 1%
· 5 basic benefits of owning and using an ironing board (and an iron)
· 6 reasons why eventually…you really do have to live within your means
· 1 important rule why being on time matters
· 10 rearons you shouldn't let the fact you're the only one reading this blog bother you
· 1,000 ways the ready, aim, aim, aim, aim approach results in devastating paralysis
· 1,000 ways the ready, aim, aim, aim, aim approach results in devastating paralysis
So…while it’s tempting to pass along those helpful links to some good folks I know (including me), something tells me those on the receiving end wouldn’t really “appreciate” getting them. What’s the lesson here? If you’re drawn to send your friends or colleagues a link to an instructional site regarding some skill on which you think they can improve, fight that urge. (Sure…you might be thinking that you’ve seen self-help links posted on this very blog at least twice a month…including more than one about listening…but nobody sent me a link to a story about the importance of leading by example ((or accepting personal responsibility))…so really…I can’t really be blamed). For every perceived flaw you’ve identified in others, they’ve likely stumbled across more than a few legitimate shortcomings in you. Save your constructive criticism for the mirror…at least until you no longer recognize that blemish-free image that’s staring back at you.
Yeah, yeah, yeah…I know what you’re thinking…but once again…do as I say, not as...
So…last Saturday I drove my mom down Pacific Coast Highway from Santa Paula, CA to the First United Church of Santa Monica, CA to a memorial service for the pastor that served in that parish for 23 years. His name was Don Shelby, and I have written about him here before. I wish I had the talent to adequately convey his extraordinary impact on that church, the surrounding community and to my early life…but any attempt I make here would fall far short of what is deserved. He was a giant of a man, and the packed Saturday service was worthy of his widespread influence.
The entire time I attended that church, from the time I was about 10 until I was around 29, I always sat in the balcony. For this service, we sat on the front right-hand side, and when the processional hymn (A Mighty Fortress is Our God) began to play on the sanctuary’s massive pipe organ, it sounded as though we were sitting in the Cathedral of Notre Dame. The Postlude at the conclusion of the service was played by UCLA’s Dr. Christoph Bull. There are hundreds of renditions of the number, and that best of those has been known to move folks to tears. Normally, I don’t make the plea that you listen to the music, but if you close your eyes…this tune can change your life. Take a couple of minutes to truly listen, and of you’d like to see what it takes to play something like this, you can watch and listen to the YouTube link too (it’s actually a better version).
Have a great weekend.
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