Talking

The hardest part of growing up is talking.

I really thought I had learned how to talk as an infant.  Then I had to learn to write so that what my brain thought, I could put down on paper instead of out my mouth.  I know that I know a lot of words.  I use lots of them everyday.  BUT, I have also learned that there is a difference between talking and communicating.


I can talk to lots of people.  I do it everyday.  Most of the time it means little.  The normal 'elevator talk' is such that I don't remember half the time what I even said and to whom I said it.  Then there are the 'rounds'.  I make those every work morning to check in with people and catch up on work issues.  Sometimes family issues.  Sometimes just gabbing.

Then there is family.  They don't appreciate my efforts of surface talk.  They want to actually have me sit down, look at them, and converse with them.  No, I'm not kidding.  For them, the chat mode is not acceptable.  But chat mode puts distance between me and those around me.  My family wants more.  They want me to participate in their lives in a different way than I participate with people at work.

When I listen, I can't have anything else on my mind.  Imagine, trying to process only one thing at a time!  I am not good at this.  I have tried to analyze it, but it comes down to, I am not sure that I want to hear what is said.  Although I may be successful in many areas, I am still sensitive to 'not being good enough'.  I may hear it over and over, but there are still scars from younger years of 'not being good enough.

I am not sure writing it helps, but maybe that is better than just keeping it inside.  I don't have a picture for this one.  It would be a storm of internal conflict that I had hoped had worked itself out years ago, but it hasn't.  Guess it one of those things that I keep hoping I can outgrow.  Maybe I will never outgrow it.  Maybe I just have to grow into it...can't hurt to try.