Tuesday, April 14, 2015

Curiosity and Cool ❤️

When you create The Listening Fort, be prepared for 2 reaction:

Curiosity.

And... "Cool."

(I love how I left this thing overnight on GMU's campus completely unattended, and returned the next morning to find it respectfully untouched... except for the rain.)


Building the Fort




Sunday, April 12, 2015

A Tale of Two Spaces (and Sculptures)

Today, I went to George Mason University's Campus to shoot a bit of exploratory footage so I could explain why I chose my location for The Listening Fort.

The choice for my location is a connective space that adjoins the two buildings where I spend the majority of my workday. And I am lucky to have it! But I did not choose the space for its convenient location to me: I chose it because of this:

This is "Woman in Hammock" by Azriel Awret," and she is my favorite sculpture on George Mason University's Campus.
I wanted to choose a place and a sculpture (body) that already helped me welcome others into a position of listening and comfort. She does this. 

 

I think "Woman In Hammock" and the space she helps create is quite different from GMU's most famous sculpture... GEORGE MASON (below). While George is loved by many as a symbol of the University, he, in his open area, is attended by the kind of busy walking and "coming and going" that makes him a "doer" rather than a "listener." This is most likely why he is such a popular gathering spot on campus tours, but he is not a natural chaperone for the kind of quiet, intimate talk that students, teachers, or other campus cohorts need to have to feel comfortably heard and understood as part of "good talk" between equals.

 If you notice the open location and visibility of George, you can see the contrast between his exposed position and the nestled space of secret comfort offered by "Woman in Hammock." Both are part of the University, but each say very different things about how we spend our time and move within each others' lives (and how we might comfortably share time and space in our immediate environment).










For a more comprehensive explanation of my choice, please watch the video below:


Tuesday, March 31, 2015

#TheListeningFort (F.O.R.T.)



...my sign!


In the next couple of weeks, I will launch The Listening Fort, a quite literal, physical, experimental project where I will begin playing with spaces, materials, and the interactions of people in an attempt to discover ways to improve what I am thinking of as "protective listening." Of course, there are many ways to think about this idea. I love how Carl Rogers classically talks about it: his thoughts on "active listening" and empathy have set the foundation for much of what I am doing, and I love how he so simply believed that listening could shape us. And for the better! Rogers was a trained psychotherapist, but the brilliance of his work (and what I advocate and hope to fully explore) is a kind of everyday improvement of listening.

Here's the thing, though--we live in a world that is so loud. Unfortunately, this has set up a kind of false idea about listening--that perhaps silence=listening or that talk is stronger than listening. Something like that. But what I am getting at when I say "listening" isn't simply silence or quiet (though, those are valuable things). And I'm not purely describing something as hard to achieve as understanding, either. Because sometimes we might not be able to fully understand, but we can listen protectively and compassionately, can't we? Reserve judgment? But good listening is something that needs a space--at the very least, the hug of a well-turned ear--to happen in a way that is safe, meaningful, and fulfilling. And some spaces, some positionings of ourselves toward one another, some shapes of the intimate area in which we hold conversation help us hold better listening.

So, in that spirit, here is part of what we might think of when we think about building a Listening Fort anywhere and everywhere, improvisationally and with care:


F: Focus and Feel

Focus, first, on what demands your attention--the distracting thought about the fight you had last night or the text message that you just received. Go ahead and acknowledge the peripheral things that demand your focus. Recognizing the presence of these ambient focal points will help you focus on the real concern--the person (or people) you would like to listen to. Refocus your attention toward the physical, mental, and emotional space that you share. Then ask yourself--how does this feel? and what are we feeling? Is the person I am listening to comfortable with the level of focus I am providing? Is this too much or too little? "Focus" is often embodied in physical responses like eye contact and affirmation gestures (for example, head nodding or facing the listening). While things like eye contact may, indeed, be encouraging as a way to say "I'm listening" to some, it can be intimidating to others--it can gesture too much focus, signaling threat rather than protection. Syncopating your listening postures to the expressive comforts of the primary communicator allows them to be their speak more openly, and you can help them do that. Remember the balance of Focus and Feel.

O: Object Orientation

Most spaces (big and small) are not ideal listening environments. The wonderful thing is, we can almost immediately improve just about any space we occupy. With a little improvisation and a bit of reorientation, most spaces can become a bit more comfortable and a bit more listening friendly.

I will detail this more in the future, but for now, think of this:

When I turn my body toward you to listen, I am saying, "I want to orient myself toward you because I care about what you have to say." The objects in our immediate environment can help us relay that message simply and efficiently, too. Think about the orientation of chairs in a coffee shop or office. Next time, if possible, ask the person you are speaking with if they prefer to sit face to face or shoulder to shoulder and orient the chairs that way. If a table separates you, orient objects so that touch is possible, if desired. Allowing the objects in your immediate environment to help create a feeling of safety and security, if only a transient one, is an oft-overlooked aspect of our listening architecture, but it is one that is vital to feelings of achieving (and providing) comfort and belonging.

R: Reciprocal Response

This one is intuitive, I think, though not always easy to achieve. When we listen, we must think in terms of reciprocity before we respond. Reciprocity in communication is tricky because it has to do with the content of what has been said, the volume, the relationships, etc. Most listeners aren't expected to just sit silently and say nothing--we have to talk eventually. And when we do, we need to provide communication that helps the conversation grow, right? It would be nice if we could just say, "I understand," but sometimes we don't understand, and that is a tough position to be in as a listener. As a researcher, this is a concept I am still dealing with--the idea of reciprocity and response. But I think (for now), that when we are trying to provide protective listening, we should perhaps form what Martin Buber would call an I-Thou Relationship.

T: Time Together

Of course, time is a precious resource, so giving your time to someone else is a meaningful gift of self. It is essential to good listening and good conversation. As important as carving out any space or turning one's ear toward the speaker, making time for someone else's words says, "You matter--I have room for you in my life." I sometimes think, though, that the idea that we need to give each other a lot of time in order to listen carefully has kept some of us from listening at all. That's just not true--we can listen with what time we have, just use that time wisely.

More to come soon!


Wednesday, March 11, 2015

Practice Protective Listening

What, exactly, is a fort? And why a listening fort?



According to the OED (first 2 definitions only), a fort is:

1.

a.  Mil. A fortified place; a position fortified for defensive or protective purposes, usually surrounded with a ditch, rampart, and parapet, and garrisoned with troops; a fortress.

b.  fig. A strong position, stronghold. Phr.  to hold the fort : to act as a temporary substitute; also, to remain at one's post, to maintain one's position, to ‘cope’.

c. In British North America and parts of the U.S.: A trading station (originally fortified).

2.

a. The place of security (of a wild animal).

A fort is a place of security, improvisation, defense, but most of all--PROTECTION.

To build a listening fort, you must PRACTICE PROTECTIVE LISTENING. This means creating a "place of security" (often an improvisational one) where ideas can be traded, positions can be "maintained," feelings and thoughts can be "coped" with. 

As I am considering the elements of my Listening Fort Experiment, I continue to think about the way safe spaces and comfortable places help us feel secure and protected. The way the turn of a chair or a comfy pillow or a well-timed look away can save our dignity and let us tell a story that would otherwise be impossible to tell.

When we learn how to Practice Protective Listening--how to provide others with the space and safety they need in conversation they need to feel secure--we fortify our connections and create strong positions of authentic sharing.

Monday, March 9, 2015

The Listening Fort: An Adventure Begins!!!

Come inside... talk, and I'll listen.

I like it when people trust me enough to tell me things. It makes me feel like I have done something right. Like I am a right kind of someone. This is a decidedly different message than the one we often receive, isn't it? As what? Adults, maybe? No, that's not it... as kids we learn the lesson, too, quite quickly, with bullying efficiency. Slowly, we hear the repetitions...

...sticks and stones may break my bones... 
...but words will never...

.HURT ME.


...do unto others... 
                    ...before they do unto...
                            ...as if they were...
      


...you can't say anything nice, don't say anything at all...

We learn that trust is an incredibly valuable thing. We learn that words entrusted are precious. We learn that protecting ourselves isn't easy, so finding protection and solace in the space of another's kind care is maybe (just maybe) worth all we've got. It's certainly worth a lot of risk. Almost from the day we are born we keep thrusting our heart out in our hand, trying to see if someone else will grasp it oh-so-softly--keep it safe. Maybe this is what love is. What friendship is. And intimacy. And vulnerability.

Certainly, in our search most human, we look for someone to understand us. To LISTEN.


This is the beginning of a great adventure! Follow me--I will keep you safe! This is not a new adventure for any of us, but one we all embark on (and sometimes forget to remember we're taking together). 

A LISTENING ADVENTURE!

In the coming weeks, months, and (if I am so very lucky) years, I am going to build and fortify The Listening Fort.

Is this place? Oh yes! So familiar and easily made so--you can find it and make one anywhere you like (I'll show you how)!

Is this a something you can hear? Yes! Listen to your heart and--better--the heart of another! You will find it there, most easily. But it is a frame of mind, built on beams flexible as they are strong, stretching toward another's ears, body, and soul.

Is it fortified and safe (as a fort must be)? Deceptively so. Though the walls are soft and warm, it is as safe as I will keep you.

For this is what LISTENING DOES, my friends--it offers protection.

Saying, speaking, being, and uttering... that is exposure of self. A letting loose of identity. Listening without judgment is safety. 

And so I end my beginning with someone I have listened to when my fort needed fortification. When I had risked much and felt exposed. When I needed a friend to listen. Because I think listening and friendship so often go hand in hand:



And what is a friend? More than a father, more than a brother: a traveling companion, with him, you can conquer the impossible, even if you must lose it later. Friendship marks a life even more deeply than love. Love risks degenerating into obsession, friendship is never anything but sharing. It is a friend that you communicate the awakening of a desire, the birth of a vision or a terror, the anguish of seeing the sun disappear or of finding that order and justice are no more. That's what you can talk about with a friend. Is the soul immortal, and if so why are we afraid to die? If God exists, how can we lay claim to freedom, since He is its beginning and its end? What is death, when you come down to it? The closing of a parenthesis, and nothing more? And what about life? In the mouth of a philosopher, these questions may have a false ring, but asked during adolescence or friendship, they have the power to change being: a look burns and ordinary gestures tend to transcend themselves. What is a friend? Someone who for the first time makes you aware of your loneliness and his, and helps you to escape so you in turn can help him. Thanks to him who you can hold your tongue without shame and talk freely without risk. That's it. --Elie Wiesel (The Gates of the Forest)