Don McMinn

 

Silence is one of the great arts of conversation. Cicero

Several years ago I heard the Juilliard String Quartet present a lecture/recital. Their playing was wonderful,  but my biggest take-away from the event had nothing to do with music but rather the quality of their conversation.  While I was intrigued by what they had to say, I was particularly fascinated by how they conversed. Through their example I learned how important it is to have times of silence throughout conversations.

Before the quartet played, they shared their thoughts about the musical piece they would play. They also conversed in-between movements. It was a relaxed and thoughtful conversational atmosphere in which each player had the opportunity to speak.

One at a time, a player would share his thoughts, and when he was finished there would be silence— sometimes lasting 10-15 seconds—before another member of the quartet would comment on what had just been shared. The group had such high respect for what each colleague was sharing that they allowed time for each statement to “sink in” before another thought was introduced into the conversation. Also, while one person shared, the others seemed to truly listen; they were not just using that time to craft what they would say when it was their turn.

For instance, one member might say, “The thing I enjoy most about the second movement of the Beethoven is that it borrows the theme from the first movement but develops it in a unique way.” Then there would be silence. And then another player might offer, “At first glance, the themes seem to compete with each other, but near the end of the movement one understands that they are actually complementary.” Then another pause…and so on.

The key element in this respectful and profitable conversation was the moments of silence.

When was the last time you conversed with a group of people and the conversation contained times of silence? It’s a rare occurrence. Normally, we try to anticipate the end of someone’s sentence and then compete with others for who speaks next. Sometimes we don’t even allow a person to finish his thought; the beginning of our new sentence overlaps the end of his.

This concept is so foreign to most people that the only way I’ve been able to incorporate it is to discuss it with a particular group and then practice. I did this with my family. I distributed this essay, we talked about it, and then staged a trial conversation. At first, it was difficult and awkward—it’s hard to change deeply-ingrained patterns—but eventually the conversation became well-paced, courteous, and profitable.

What are your thoughts?

Each of us carries a word in our heart. For some, the word is “yes.” Yes, we believe we can succeed. Yes, we can learn. Yes, we can make a difference. Others carry a “no,” with all the negative baggage that accompanies it. —Martin Seligman

Which of these two words best describes you? Are you inclined toward “yes” or “no”? What is your default setting? What is your first response to life’s stimuli? Asked another way, are you an optimist or a pessimist?

Before you answer that last question, know that Dr. Seligman’s research indicates that 3/4 of Americans have a proclivity toward pessimism, so three out of four readers of this essay are in the “no” camp. Are you? Most of us have a hard time being honest with ourselves, so you might want to take a random survey among your friends and family.

Why would anyone choose to be a pessimist? (It is a choice one makes.)

• • • Long term, people won’t enjoy being around you.
    • Your view of life will be sullied.
    • Your mental and physical health will suffer.

Choose to be an optimist:

• • • People will be attracted to you.
    • Life will be more enjoyable.
    • You’ll enjoy better mental and physical health; optimists get sick less often and live longer.

Some people accuse optimists of being naive; after all, bad things do happen. Yes, we need to be realistic about the past and the present, but let’s be hopeful and optimistic about the future, and let’s not dwell on the negative.

I appreciate the balanced approach espoused by psychiatrist Leonard Zunin, who has identified four basic orientations:

1. 1. 1. Those who see only the negative
      2. Those who see only the positive
      3. Those who see both and focus on the negative
      4. Those who see both and focus on the positive

It seems to me that number four is the preferred position.

When I think of an optimistic leader, former President Ronald Reagan comes to mind.

Immediately following an assassination attempt on him, while being wheeled into the operating room, he said to the physicians, “I hope you boys are Republicans.”

In 1982, at the depths of a depression, Richard Wirthlin, Reagan’s pollster for six years, came into the Oval Office with his semimonthly report. He told Reagan the bad news, “Thirty-two percent approval rating—the worst ever for any sitting president in the second year in office.” Reagan reportedly smiled and said, “Dick, Dick…stop worrying. I’ll just go out and try to get shot again.”

The following poem describes a young optimist. When this lad enters the workforce, I’ll hire him.

I passed a sand lot yesterday,
Some kids were playing ball
I strolled along the third base line
Within the fielder’s call.
“Say, what’s the score?” I asked.
He yelled to beat the stuffing,
“There’s no one out, the bases full,
They’re winning forty-two to nothing!”
“You’re getting beat, aren’t you my friend?”
And then in no time flat
He answered, “No, sir, not as yet!
Our side hasn’t been up to bat!”

I’ve been thinking about how to honestly and appropriately respond to conversations in which I disagree with what is being said.

For instance,

• • • I was talking with a friend who veered off into a controversial political issue. I guess he just assumed I agreed with his convictions on the topic, but I didn’t. Should I have jumped into the fray? If I don’t say something, he might assume my silence means I concur with his thoughts. But pushing back might lead to an argument.
    •  I was part of a conversation in which someone energetically shared about a certain topic, but her facts were wrong. Should I have corrected her?

In these and many other conversational situations, I’m trying to discipline myself to respond appropriately. There are several options.

1. 1. 1. Sometimes I need to speak up and challenge what is being said, even if it leads to an uncomfortable conversation. I must be kind and tactful with my pushback but I should be straightforward in sharing my thoughts, even if it may produce an uneasiness or even tension. 
      2. At other times I should simply not respond. Sensing the larger purpose of the conversation, I might realize that the comments being made are not central to the overall thrust and direction of the conversation. Or, I may value the relationships of those involved so much that I should not push back because doing so might sully the relationships. 
      3. Or, (and here’s the trust of this post) I can say “No comment.”

“No comment” can mean several different things:

• • • I don’t agree with what’s being said but I don’t want to get embroiled in a lengthy, potentially combative conversation.
    • I don’t have an opinion about the particular subject or scenario.
    • I don’t have time to pursue this topic right now.
    • For whatever reason, I want to stop this part of the conversation.
    • I do have a lot to say, but I don’t want to offend you.

So by saying “no comment” I’m actually commenting. 

What are your comments? (respond below)

Benjamin West was just trying to be a good babysitter for his little sister Sally. While his mother was out, Benjamin found some bottles of colored ink and proceeded to paint Sally’s portrait. But by the time Mrs. West returned, ink blots stained the table, chairs, and floor. Benjamin’s mother surveyed the mess without a word until she saw the picture. Picking it up, she exclaimed, “Why, it’s Sally!” And she bent down and kissed her young son.

In 1763, when he was 25 years old, Benjamin West was selected as history painter to England’s King George III. He became one of the most celebrated artists of his day, becoming president of the Royal Academy of Arts. Commenting on his start as an artist, he said, “My mother’s kiss made me a painter.” 

What if she had responded differently; what if she had rebuked young Benjamin for the mess he had made with his paints? What if she had scolded Benjamin and taken away his art supplies? Years later it might have been said, “His mother’s rebuke crushed his artistic gift.” 

Perhaps his gift would have emerged either way, but isn’t it grand that his mother’s kind and encouraging words affirmed and gave momentum to his talent.

Proverbs 25:11 says, “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.” West’s mother’s words were fitly spoken and unleashed Benjamin’s prodigious talent in painting. 

We all possess a powerful asset that doesn’t cost us anything to dispense and it’s self-replenishing—words of affirmation. When spoken at critical moments, they are powerful enough to change a person’s life. 

I’m grateful for times when I was the recipient of life-giving words. 

• • When I was six, my grandfather saw me playing with random pieces of wood and nails and said, “Look what Don is doing; he knows how to figure things out.”
  • When I finished my year as president of my church youth choir, my minister of music wrote me a letter, commending me for strong leadership.
  • In my first job directing a church choir, a physician in the choir approached me and said, “You really get a lot accomplished in rehearsals.”

Of all the millions of statements I’ve heard in 70 years, why do I remember these three? Because they impacted me deeply and changed the trajectory of my life.

Your words are extremely powerful, especially when you’re in a position of authority. Parents, grandparents, employers, teachers, persons in uniform, elected officials…use your position and the power of your words to encourage, stimulate, and inspire people.

Benjamin West painted his sister’s portrait on the furniture and floor. Because of his mother’s careful response, he would someday paint portraits of Benjamin Franklin, George Washington, and English royalty. 

At the top of this post is a picture of his famous painting: The Death of General Wolfe

What are your thoughts about this essay?