Letting the words flow
When it’s not the wind or the currents disturbing the calm, it might be people like me. (Image by ekrem)
I’ve been working on my ability to speak extemporaneously.
Of course, anyone who knows me would say that I have absolutely no problem speaking extemporaneously. But what I mean is, I'm working on my ability to speak clearly and succinctly. My ability to make a clear point without planning out every word that I'm going to say ahead of time. I'm sure the people who know me well would agree that this is, in fact, a challenge for me (and often, for them).
Sorry. The truth is, I don't always know where I'm going until I get there. That's why it's been so incredibly helpful to me to spend a lot of time writing in addition to, inevitably, spending a lot of time speaking.
What can I say? I'm an extrovert. That means that not only am I energized by interacting with other people, I process information verbally. In other words, I learn from talking, ideally to others.
I wish there were another way. Well, in fact, there is another way. It's me talking to myself. Sometimes, this is writing, but other times, it's me ranting into some kind of device. But whatever I'm doing, it's active. It's externalized. Somehow, the ideas don't develop in the same way when they're stuck inside my head.
Over the years, I have learned to forgive myself for this trait and work around it. Understanding my need to process ideas verbally and externally has allowed me to build systems that allow me to do it without driving other people crazy. Well, at least, I've tried to reduce the extent to which I drive other people crazy. Writing, recording, and finding acceptable channels for sharing has reduced my reliance on non-consenting individuals to help me process and refine my ideas.
That said, I constantly have to curb my tendency to exuberantly and excessively contribute to meetings and conversations. It requires slowing down, listening, and finding ways, if possible, to record my overflow of ideas, responses, and reactions while someone else is speaking. I do especially well when interacting with people asynchronously; I can review their ideas in detail and contribute my own in detail without interfering with their process.
Ironically, I'm sharing all this not because I love to hear the sound of my own voice, but because I want to be helpful to you. isn't that funny? Here I am writing hundreds of words about the fact that I process ideas externally. Out of anxiety, I am predisposed to check myself and check on you. have I bulldozed over you in this conversation? Am I dominating? Am I talking about myself too much?
Of course, this is a one-way conversation right now. You’re not here, so I can't ask you any questions. But the reason that I'm sharing is still to seek connection. In talking about myself and sharing my own process, I'm hoping that you can see something of yourself. You may see something of yourself in ways that you are similar to me, or perhaps, as I describe myself, you are able to recognize an aspect of yourself in realizing how different we are. Either way, what I hope to offer is an invitation to reflection or even conversation.
People suggest that using “I” makes writing inherently self-centered. But I think that’s a question of context and intent, not language. Some of the most generous writing I’ve ever read was written entirely in the first person. It didn’t ask me a bunch of questions about myself or offer to solve my problems. It shared vulnerably and vividly from the perspective of one human being, and thus gave me an insight into myself, others, and the shared human experience.
I still struggle, on a daily basis, with the concern that I am saying too much or sharing in a way that feels less like an invitation and more like a lecture. I’m still learning how to calm the sense of urgency that tells me that I’m going to run out of time to say everything I want to say. But I’m also discovering that, the more I share, the more effective I’m becoming at expressing sophisticated ideas in fewer words, along with the feedback that I’ve shared something helpful or meaningful. Sometimes, I’m just running my mouth, but not always.
Maybe someday, I can be a calm, quiet, mysterious figure who speaks or writes only when I have something profound to say. But in the meantime, the only way I can think of to get to that point is to let the words flow. Thanks for reading – I truly appreciate it.
