This is the Editor's Letter I wrote for the March/April issue of Ragan's Journal of Employee Communication Management. I reread it the other day and thought I'd like to get others' thoughts on it. So if you're winding down on a Friday ....
***
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how to connect with other people.
An old friend of mine asked me recently why our e-mail exchanges are so infrequent these days. She and I used to type hundreds and thousands of words back and forth, arguing about politics, articulating our views on religion, exercising our rage, expressing our joy and generally indulging in no-holds-barred repartee.
It was a hell of a lot of fun, for the years it lasted.
But she’s right: We don’t do it much anymore. Forced to think about why, a number of reasons occurred to me. I’ve had a child, who takes a lot of the spare energy I used to pour into these e-mails. Also, my friend and I have gotten to know each other better, and so there’s less to discover.
There were other reasons, too, some of them personal.
But there was one reason I forgot to include in the 1,000-word e-mail that I used to begin to explain our relative quiet lately.
Oh, maybe I didn’t forget.
Maybe I just didn’t want to say it.
Maybe, as a writer, I’m afraid to think it.
But here it is:
I don’t think I believe in words as much as I used to.
W.H. Auden said words aren’t everything—just all we have to work with.
When I read that in college, I had no idea what he was talking about. To a young English major, to a young lover, to a late-night theorist, words were everything.
That has changed over the years, as I’ve watched, in roles ranging from observer of employee communication to husband and brother and son and friend, the loudest words be drowned out by the subtlest contradictory actions. And as I’ve watched humble actions overwhelm the fanciest words.
I’ve also found words wanting in so many moments: In trying to understand what’s really happening in the mind of a troubled loved one, in trying to explain what’s happening in my own mind, in trying to change what’s happening in anyone’s mind, in trying to show love and respect. What you say at the wake means so much less than your having showed up.
I know that my slow-shrinking faith in words is not part of some larger social trend. Quite the opposite: All the bloggers and the podcasters in the world must think they are making a difference with all their words, and Time Magazine must agree, as it named their collective influence the “Person of the Year.”
Perhaps my faith in the power of words isn’t shrinking at all, as much as my faith in actions is growing, and looming large in comparison. To me, being a fellow traveler—being an effective communicator—means less frequent sharing of insights and more simply showing up, listening when you’re asked to, responding when you’re asked to do that and trying to offer some humor in between.
My dad is a writer, too, and he once said, “You know why old people are quieter, don’t you? Because they have more to be quiet about.”
And less, I would add, to be constantly talking about.
So I’ll end here.
Comments (13)
Bravo! Could not agree more.
A few years back I had a bout with depression and I was tempted to hole myself up and feel sorry for myself. My husband encouraged me to find something to do for someone else every day - bake cookies for a neighbor, make dinner for a friends who's sick, offer to keep a friend's child for her for a few hours. I, of course, thought a weekly session at a therapists would help where we could talk about my "problems," but I thought I'd humor Craig and give his suggestion a try.
My husband's a wise man. It's amazing how powerful the doing of something is compared to the talking about what needs to be done.
David, when is your dad going to start blogging?
Posted by Eileen | April 20, 2007 11:08 AM
Posted on April 20, 2007 11:08
Actions speak louder than words.
A simple thought that we heard long ago, and forgot in the busyness of life.
Glad that you helped us to remember. Now go out and do something nice for someone else--and don't tell anyone else about it. Some actions benefit us more when we stay quiet.
Posted by Tom Keefe | April 20, 2007 1:59 PM
Posted on April 20, 2007 13:59
And yet isn't writing an action in itself?
Delivering a message -- of hope, of understanding, of sympathy, of outrage -- is not so far removed from baking cookies for a neighbor or doing a friend a favor.
No offense, David, but I'd rather read your words than eat your cookies!
Posted by Ron Shewchuk | April 20, 2007 5:52 PM
Posted on April 20, 2007 17:52
Thanks for your thoughtful responses, all.
1. Eileen, why do you think my dad should blog?
2. Tom. I took your car to Jiffy Lube and had the oil changed.
3. Ron: Right on, brother.
Posted by David Murray | April 21, 2007 6:51 AM
Posted on April 21, 2007 06:51
'Cause he always has incredible things to say. At least let him guest blog for you while you're on vacation...The guy is totally quotable.
Posted by Eileen | April 21, 2007 3:34 PM
Posted on April 21, 2007 15:34
At the very least, Eileen, I'll refer him to this blog and see what he has to say!
Posted by David Murray | April 21, 2007 6:36 PM
Posted on April 21, 2007 18:36
David, I wondered how that Jiffy Lube sticker got into my Passat. I'm required under our employee lease deal to use a certified VW dealer for service. The company revoked my lease today and charged me $750 for the partial engine rebuild--something about sludge. I'm on probation at work for violating the rules. My coworkers are laughing at me because I have to hitchhike to work.
Thanks for thinking of me. [:>)
Posted by Tom Keefe | April 22, 2007 8:21 PM
Posted on April 22, 2007 20:21
Tom--
We both live in Chicago. Feel free to borrow my 1964 International Harvester Scout for as long as you need it. It's running pretty well.
(I'm like Reggie Jackson, of whom his Yankees teammate Catfish Hunter once said, "Reggie'd give you the shirt off his back. Of course, he'd hold a press conference to announce it ....")
David
Posted by David Murray | April 23, 2007 6:37 AM
Posted on April 23, 2007 06:37
David,
Perfect! I can take the train and skip hitchhiking downtown. A '64 Scout is a nice upgrade from my '71 Chevy Nova with "three-on-the-tree" and front bench seat that wiggles on the passenger side. Have you changed its oil recently? If not, I'll stop by Jiffy Lube.
Tom
Posted by Tom Keefe | April 23, 2007 11:51 AM
Posted on April 23, 2007 11:51
No, Tom. It needs an oil change. But you'll have to go to Duluth, Minn. to get the oil filter.
Thanks,
David
Posted by David Murray | April 23, 2007 12:14 PM
Posted on April 23, 2007 12:14
David: I'm new to your blog and you blew me out of the water. I'm a lifelong word dog and a devout communication freak. I write because I love it, because I'm good at it, and because I think I can DO good with it. But for years I've been feeling...disappointed in words. Maybe they just couldn't possibly ever live up to what I expected them to do, but I've seen them used for evil too many times--in marketing, advertising, PR, politics, families, pulpits, and coffee shops. And the most interesting phenomenon, I think, is the surge in B.S. I blogged about Harry Frankfurt's little gem, "On Bullshit," here: http://terrierista.typepad.com/terrierista/2007/04/when_harry_g_fr.html
Thanks for writing about hard stuff.
Posted by Jane Greer | April 23, 2007 2:45 PM
Posted on April 23, 2007 14:45
Jane--
It's good to hear from a fellow traveler. And that's no bullshit. I'll keep reading yours if you keep reading mine .....
David
Posted by David Murray | April 24, 2007 7:09 PM
Posted on April 24, 2007 19:09
David: I haven't had an offer that good since Perkins came up with the Tremendous Twelve. You're on!
Jane
Posted by Jane Greer | April 25, 2007 8:31 AM
Posted on April 25, 2007 08:31