Sometimes, I find myself talking while my audience has a puzzled look on their face. It doesn't matter how much I prepared my speech, the message is just not getting through. But then they ask: What are you trying to say?
Somehow, this shifts the conversation entirely. Instead of trying to sound smart and interesting, I start telling them exactly what I'm trying to say. The fluff disappears, the jargon fades, and I'm left with the raw information in its most primitive form. And somehow, they understand me better this way.
What are you trying to say? Whether it's in person or in writing, that question triggers something in us that allows us to better express our intentions.
Here's an exercise. Look out the window. What color is the sky? Now, on a piece of paper or in a word processor, write that the sky is blue.
"The sky is blue."
Somehow, it doesn't feel satisfying. Were there a few wisps of cloud in the sky? Did those clouds look like they were floating? Maybe erring? Were there mountains in the distance? Were they covered with a thin sheet of snow? Were you actually looking through a window, or sitting outdoors, maybe at a park with kids playing on a playground in the distance? What was happening under that blue sky? Was it actually blue, or a yawning purple suggesting dusk?
There's a whole lot we want to express, a whole lot we want to share of our full experience of the moment. But sometimes, just saying that the sky is blue does it.
What are you trying to say? Maybe you aren't trying to say that the sky is blue. Maybe you're using it as a metaphor for a deeper feeling you're experiencing. Maybe the emotion is complex and you need to paint it with a broader brush to truly express your feelings. But maybe all you're trying to say is that you're sad. Or happy. Maybe that's all you need to say.
This is something I find fascinating about communication. Sometimes the process demands that you say things wrong, or in the long-winded and complicated way, in order to arrive at that simple, raw format. It's just like how writing helps us think. Your idea isn't clear until you have it written down, like a complicated equation that resolves to something simple. The only shortcut we can take is to ask ourselves that question and untangle our mind in private, before we present our simple resolution at the end.
Whenever you find yourself, just like me, going in circles, losing yourself in a spiral, stop for a moment. Ask yourself: What am I trying to say?
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Comments(1)
Alicia :
"that question triggers something in us that allows us to better express our intentions"
It's an invitation to drop social pretences and share your reasoning so you can find a common ground for translation of the idea between your cognitive frameworks. You are put at ease and allowed to convey your thinking in its most primitive form, a form which you can only convey when you feel comfortable.
You note that we sometimes are able to convey subtleties in this primitive form that might not be possible otherwise, particularly related to emotions. I wonder if it is the emotional character of this space that causes us to normally avoid it when communicating. It isn't always rational and "fit" for sharing.
Let's hear your thoughts