One of my Nana’s favorite sayings is “We have two ears and one mouth for a reason,” and although it’s silly in nature, it touches on an important idea.

I don’t know about you, but so much of conversation today feels empty, theatric, and self-serving. In one of my business classes this past year, we were given a lesson on how to interview people. A large part of the lecture was on truly listening to the other person. We went on to then have practice interviews, turning to the people next to us and “interviewing” them about their day. I almost laughed out loud out of exasperation. The student interviewing me still failed to actually listen to me. She was a kind and caring person, but still didn’t quite understand the difference between hearing and listening, especially in a one-way interview. Don’t get me wrong - listening is really hard and I’m in no way perfect or even good at it (but I am really trying to be better!).

Talking at, talking to, talking with. Understanding the distinction between these types of talking is vital for meaningful conversation, and on a larger scale, I think it’s the key to societal healing. Consciously making an effort to bring an interaction from “talking at” to “talking with” naturally brings the involved people from thinking about themselves to thinking outside of themselves. It forces a level of curiosity and empathy about others and puts our natural tendency to try to serve our own interests on hold. I think the world would be a better place if people could get better at even just basic “conversation ping pong.” I find that so many people don’t even think to ask questions back.

Talking with people is being a visitor in someone else’s bubble. This requires a fundamental understanding of the existence of the world outside of your consciousness. It also requires a willingness to be outside of your comfort zone. Being in someone else’s bubble is scary because you don’t know the rules or where it might lead. It’s like being a visitor in a different country. The rules of the road, societal expectations, and even cultural ways of life can be fundamentally different. Because it’s scary, we have a natural tendency to bring topics and conversations back to our own experiences and areas of interest, and even ways of thinking (Do you tend to stay on the surface level? Do you like thinking abstractly? Do you focus on technical details?). What’s it like inside your bubble?

I remember one conversation that I was having with my dad at the end of last summer. We were talking about conversation (how meta is that). I asked him about his motivation for seeking meaningful convos, and now I want to flip that question on you: why do you engage in conversation?