Knowing What You Want

[rowyn]

haikujaguar wrote a post about different kinds of listening a couple of days ago. One of the things that struck me about it was that she contrasted "listening to feelings" with "listening to ideas", and I've seen more often a similar-but-different dichotomy, between "offering validation/sympathy" and "offering advice/solutions".

To some degree, this is the stuff of social anxiety --"ZOMG I am LISTENING WRONG I didn't even know you could screw that up. D:" But it's particularly interesting to be conscious of the different response styles when you're the speaker: "when I am saying something, why am I saying it? What sort of response do I want?"

Frequently, I write about things where I don't have a strong need to receive or avoid a particular kind of engagement. If I write about what I did on my staycation or post a book review or my exercise routine, my purpose is to chronicle my life for my future reference and to share bits of me for the entertainment of my friends. Any response to these that's well-intended will be fine. I am not going to be upset if someone disagrees with my review or offers cleaning advice or suggests an alteration to my biking habits. I may not agree or accept the suggestions, and I wasn't looking for them, but I am perfectly happy to have them offered.

But sometimes I write something specifically to get advice: "why can't I get this database to do X?" and in those cases I'll stipulate I want advice: "Suggestions welcome!"

But when advice isn't welcome, like if I'm whinging about going to my day job or because I got poison ivy, and all I want is sympathy and not suggestions on how to save more money or poison-ivy-avoidance strategies (step 1: stay inside and avoid all greenery), I don't usually put up a disclaimer "not looking for advice".

... actually, a lot of the things I don't want to hear advice about, I just don't *write* about. Many of the things that I'd like my ideas to be heard about, I don't write, either. Religion. Politics. Finance, even, to a lesser degree. Topics so fraught that it's very easy to trigger defensive reactions in the listener, or to have a response trigger the same in me. Sometimes it's not even that I mind listening to contrary responses, but that I often don't have anything to add in reply. I don't start the conversation because I don't know how to end it. "Agree to disagree" doesn't seem to work as well as I might hope.

Anyway, I am wondering now if it's feasible for the person who introduces a topic also to define what they hope to gain from talking about it. Explicitly, instead of implicitly, via the dozens of social rules and cues we imperfectly share across our culture. This seems, perhaps, more achievable in blogging -- "my journal, my guidelines" -- than in normal conversation. It does seem a bit awkward, but maybe less so than 'I'm never going to talk about this at all.'

Comments

[jordangreywolf.livejournal.com]

I don't think I seriously put much into thought about what I *want* in terms of response. Sometimes I think I post because I've got this mindset of making lists and feeling accomplished if I can check something off, and it feels like it's more official if I can get a witness on it. ;) For art, it's usually a matter of "posting on the fridge door." I can see a hundred things wrong with my own picture, but I post it anyway because somehow "it doesn't count" unless it's posted where someone else could see it.

When I'm writing things out and I could really use a response, I think at least 75% of the time, I write a small essay in a comment or a post, and then delete it before ever submitting it. When I plot things for adventures, I often WRITE OUT outlines that only I will ever read ... and quite possibly never again after actually writing it (or else what I actually print will be a very abbreviated form of it -- a sort of mnemonic, slightly more sophisticated than a string tied around my finger to remind me of something). Often it's just the process of thinking it through solidly enough to put into words that is a large part of my working-it-out process.

Re: Politics, religion, finance/economics; I think I avoid talking about either a great deal with anyone. Gwendel might disagree; at home, when I'm parked in front of the computer going through one of my time-wasting browsing loops, I have a very bad habit of reading news sites and then making some groan or laugh or whatever and she asks what's up. Either I say "Oh, it's nothing," which only makes her curious, or else I tell her, and I really should have learned by now that she's probably NOT interested in my take on these things. (She has drifted leftward on most issues compared to me.) At least on the internet, emoticons take a CONSCIOUS effort to include, and I usually have the sense not to post commentary on political issues when most folks reading/responding to my posts would take offense at my position. (Whatever world it is in which friends engage in "friendly political arguments," it's not mine.)

[rowyn]

I do that "thinking out on paper" with problems a lot. It's just much easier to figure things out if I write them down than in my head.

I relate to the way you feel, here. I enjoy discussing politics less and less as I get older. :/ Even with people I agree with, I often feel alienated by their thought processes, by the tendency to think those who disagree are stupid, ignorant, or malicious. *sigh*

[jordangreywolf.livejournal.com]

Re: Writing Things Out:
Exactly! I am very bad with conversations about complicated topics, whenever I have to do a lot of "setup" to explain whatever it is I have to say. I run the risk of losing track of what in the world I was trying to say in the first place, or being tempted off onto some wild tangent and never coming to the "point." If I write something down, I can do a far better job of editing it, splitting things off, and coming up with a path from point A to point B ... if, that is, I put my mind to it. ;)

Re: Politics, etc.
I know many people who disagree with me on very important points (things that are a far cry from "vanilla vs. chocolate") and yet I think of them as being very smart, knowledgeable and moral. I understand that they have very different personal experiences, very different assumptions about the nature of the world, and of the way the world should be. I sincerely doubt I'm going to effect any sort of positive change in the world by SHUNNNNNNING anyone who disagrees (as if the loss of my occasional comment on their social posts or refusing to do gaming stuff with them is going to be some great tragedy).

I still get upset, and get defensive and take things personally. My ideal is not quite the same as my practice, I'm sad to say. I just try to remember to take a breath, take a step back, and turn the table around, and look at how my statement of MY beliefs might provoke the same responses in someone else. It's too easy to get overly focused on the idea that if I believe A, and someone else believes B, if he says, "B is correct!" then it means that "A is incorrect!" and I take OFFENSE at that. Also, I have to remember that I haven't held the viewpoints I have today for my entire life. I might hear something that compels me to rethink my position -- or at least not to be so certain and feisty about it.

Also, I don't want to contribute to the trend of walling off people who think differently than me and just picking and choosing what media I'll listen to (where everyone agrees with me), what circles I'll frequent (where everyone agrees with me), etc. I try to check out multiple news sources for different angles on a topic, rather than the one I think aligns with my worldview the most. Surrounding oneself with virtual "yes men" just means that I'll end up with a worldview that's likely to come crumbling down messily if someone else comes along with a "No!" that's the least bit thought-out.