On the Art of Conversation

I pride myself on having many interesting friends. One such friend of mine, a linguistics major whom I’ve known since high school, recently returned from a four month long foray in Europe. Whilst there, she farmed in France, played harp and flute in market fairs, and looked at strange, modern art in a museum which professed itself to be a center for archaeology.

We went, yesterday, to enjoy a cup of tea and to catch up. After all, we hadn’t seen each other for several months, and my dear friend always had plenty of stories which I could be entertained by for hours. In addition to this, my friend and I have something very important in common: neither of us quite know what we are going to be doing with our lives. This is a state which, I have discovered, many people, young and old, find themselves in but which they do not like to talk about.

In any case, while we sat and drank a pot of Glenburn Autumn Oolong tea, I realized something was going in my brain; while my friend told me her stories, I was actually listening. I wasn’t thinking about what to cook for dinner, or what points I wanted to bring up when it was again my turn to speak. No, indeed, I was completely absorbed in her story. I wanted to hear all about the olives she received at a market in Italy. I wanted to know which manuscripts she’d looked at in that library in France. I wanted to be as engaged as possible in the conversation.

Let me say, I don’t think I’m a bad listener. Mostly, I just lack an attention span when it comes to conversation, a problem which has plagued me my whole life. But, I suppose, the thing which was different about this conversation was my earnest desire to participate in it, and to be a good participant, it’s crucial that you be able to listen. Otherwise it’s just a monologue, and though Shakespeare thought all the world is a stage, I tend to disagree.

When I conference people on their writing, I try to cultivate this Art of Conversation. I try to listen so that I may participate as best I can with the other person. Even if their story isn’t as exciting as farming in France, it means something to them, and I owe it as a consultant to be the best conversationalist that I can be. Conversation is an art which must be cultivated over time and, I have found, the best conversationalists are also the ones who are the best listeners.

So the next time life just gets a little to hectic, sit down with a mug of tea and remember to listen.

As Always,

Julia