...and it's a good day to just listen

A dear friend and mentor sent me short poem over the holidays that I’d never heard of before…or at least don’t remember ever hearing. I’m guessing like a lot of people that watch NASCAR, Gold Rush and New Jersey Housewives…I don’t read a lot (any) or know of many (any) poems…so the fact that it wasn’t familiar doesn’t seem too unusual. In all the years I worked in construction, or for that matter in almost any other job (newspaper boy, ski technician (bum), high school football coach and union administrator), I don’t recall anyone ever even referencing a poem, or sonnet or rhyme (OK…there’s the classic Nantucket limerick every construction apprentice should know).  As a matter-of-fact, until that cat I’d also never heard of (Richard Blanco) read that "One Today" sonnet at the recent inauguration of President Obama’s second term…I’m not sure the last time I even heard someone reference a poem.

If you fashion yourself as a learned academic or culturally enlightened type, it’s vogue to gush about the magical beauty of  the Blanco offering. But I just read it again and well…I dozed off before reaching stanza forty seven. To me it was like too many of these blog posts…it was just too long. The great thing about the poem sent by a friend in December is that it was nice and short…and more importantly to someone like me…very easy to understand.

There are multiple versions of this brief and simple old nursery rhyme, including one popularized in WWII which tweaked the last verse in an attempt to tie silence to security. However as best as I tell from a rudimentary internet search (using what I’m told is now the antiquated, assisted-living browser internet explorer), the most recognized version, which plays on the perception of owls as the traditional symbol of wisdom, goes something like this…

“A wise old owl lived in an oak
The more he saw the less he spoke
The less he spoke the more he heard.
Why can't we all be like that wise old bird”

Now, I so want to think this was sent to me because my silence means I remind the sender of the owl…but it’s also possible it was a message to stop talking so much or that I should stop presuming anyone wants to read this nonsense every week. But I’m hoping they sent it because I am quiet a lot.  As an example I routinely sit in silence and don’t say much in groups, but it’s not because I’m like a wise old bird…it’s because I can’t follow much of the conversation. I’ve always had this complex about not measuring up intellectually. It’s not fun to feel dumb, but I routinely sit quietly listening to others while failing to understand much, or at least even some, of what is said.

Sure, much of it is my own fault. If tuning out others was an Olympic sport, my trophy case would reduce Michael Phelps’s gold medal achievements to a mere footnote. But the more alarming problem is that even when I try to listen…I actually feel as if much of what is said is just gibberish. Many times, you could hold a gun up to my forehead and ask me to summarize a recent speaker’s comments…and I’d have nothing. What’s worse…is that while I’m legitimately and completely lost, I often glance around at others that are hearing  the same thing and notice they seem to be actually following the conversation, even nodding occasionally (god…I have trouble spelling that word) as though they understand and are in agreement. Though I want to believe some are faking it…I do think there are those that actually understand. Even more disheartening, there are even a few people that will refer to what an earlier speaker said…as if there was some nugget of wisdom in something I couldn’t even follow.

What’s the point of all this…heck if I know. I guess part of it is that I wish I’d paid more attention in school. I should have exercised my brain better, stayed at UCLA, read more,  learned a couple foreign languages (even gibberish) and focused more on developing my listening and cognitive reasoning skills (you’re right…I really don't know what that means either). But while I’m willing to accept most of the blame here…I don’t want to put this all on me. I still have this visceral sense that many increasingly overvalue talk and undervalue action. We used to have a saying on the jobsite when folks stood around and talked too much. It went something like… “Let’s hear a little less signing and a little more picking.”

I picked up a book (big font and lots of pictures) recently ahead of a flight to Los Angeles entitled “It’s Not What You Say, It’s How You Say It.” Just a few pages in, there’s a quote from English novelist George Eliot that reads “Blessed is the man who, having nothing to say, abstains from giving us worthy evidence of that fact.” I don’t heed that advice near enough…but I’m going to try to apply it more going forward. I’m going to try to be more like that bird.

Have a great weekend. Try to take some time to enjoy the people and pets that matter most to you. Turn off the TV, tune into people and do the things you enjoy.  One phone call, a challenging diagnosis, some unexpected news or one x-ray, can flip your priority list on its head in a heartbeat and instantaneously trivialize the stuff you thought was so worthy of time, attention and stress.

Start the weekend with some music...