Taking a Break From "Me", "Myself", and "I".
How do you think you would do if you had to go a whole day without using the words "I", "me", "myself" or anything of the like. The point being, could you go a whole day without talking about yourself?
This challenge came across to me in one of my many adventures in reading, but don't ask me when or where I found this. I can't remember. But this thought has always stuck in my head. I have wanted to try it, but never really have. There have been times when I have gone to events and have vowed to be a good listener and to be totally present to the people I am interacting with, but I've never tried anything as concrete as committing to a whole day of not talking about myself.
I don't think I would do well. I think I might do OK with not talking about what is going on in my life or talking about experiences I have had. But I think I would greatly fail in controlling my tendency to give my opinions and theories about what is going on in the world, in my friends lives, etc. And I would really fail when it comes to refuting opinions that I think are flat out wrong. I have a really bad habit of thinking it is my job to set everybody straight on the facts of life.
I know a lot of people who would struggle with this task. We all have friends who never seem to be able to turn the mirror away from their beautiful reflection, even in conversations. I have friends who always talk about themselves, and when I talk about anything else, or anything pertaining to me, they turn the conversation back to themselves. If the conversation naturally drifts to something else, they get a glazed-over look, indicating their boredom. And of course in my self-centerdness, I actually try and compete with these people, trying to get in comments or at least a short phrase, here and there turning the conversation away from them. I know, I can certainly be a little childish and immature.
Last night I was watching The Bachelorette, and there was a guy named Josh who was so focused on impressing Jen with how wonderful he was that he forgot to try and get to know Jen, and in the process forgot to let her talk. She found it very "offputting" and so he got the boot from the show. But I think it taught a great lesson: show a lady how wonderful you are by listening to how wonderful she is. I think it's a lesson that can be applied in all relationships, not only romantic ones.
My sister-in-law, Monica, possesses the great trait of not talking about herself too much. I have actually tried to imitate her example, since I see myself as being the extreme opposite. In our large family, we tend to get into some very lively and heated discussions. Sometimes we get to the end of the conversation and Monica hasn't even spoken a word, or maybe just a comment or two. I remember asking her about that one time. "How do you do it? How do you just not explode over what you want to say?" She told me that she likes to hear what everyone else has to say and take it all in. Then she said, "Besides, if I wait long enough, someone else usually offers the opinion I had anyway." And in my self-centerdness I thought, "But don't you want to be the one to say it?" I felt ashamed of that thought almost a minute after it crossed my head. And it really opened my eyes to my attitudes on the art of conversation.
I think we can feel it when we are talking about ourselves because it is the natural flow of conversation versus a desire to make ourselves known, to make ourselves liked, to prove ourselves, or because we think our thoughts or experiences are just much more interesting than anybody else's. I know I can feel it. It creeps up and feels very much the same as when I know I've eaten too much or am dressed immodestly.
I think about the people who I really like the most and feel comfortable around. They are the people who genuinely listen to me, and offer up their own contributions as a part of the natural flow of the conversation. They make me feel like they are interested in me and who I am, and not because I have inundated them with information about myself. When with these people, I don't feel like I have to talk about myself in order to be liked.
And in an effort to break out of my self-centeredness, I hope not to focus on the people who make me feel this way and take pleasure in them, but rather focus on how I can make myself more like them for the people I come in contact with. I would love it if people said they liked me not because I was so eloquent, funny, witty, or because of what I've said, but rather that they liked me because I made them feel interesting, worthy, or loved.
By the way, I do see the irony of this post. I used words refering to myself in the first person 84 times, and most of this is about my thoughts, my challenges, my irritations, or my resolutions (85,86, 87...). Oh well, maybe I'll accept the challenge tomorrow.
This challenge came across to me in one of my many adventures in reading, but don't ask me when or where I found this. I can't remember. But this thought has always stuck in my head. I have wanted to try it, but never really have. There have been times when I have gone to events and have vowed to be a good listener and to be totally present to the people I am interacting with, but I've never tried anything as concrete as committing to a whole day of not talking about myself.
I don't think I would do well. I think I might do OK with not talking about what is going on in my life or talking about experiences I have had. But I think I would greatly fail in controlling my tendency to give my opinions and theories about what is going on in the world, in my friends lives, etc. And I would really fail when it comes to refuting opinions that I think are flat out wrong. I have a really bad habit of thinking it is my job to set everybody straight on the facts of life.
I know a lot of people who would struggle with this task. We all have friends who never seem to be able to turn the mirror away from their beautiful reflection, even in conversations. I have friends who always talk about themselves, and when I talk about anything else, or anything pertaining to me, they turn the conversation back to themselves. If the conversation naturally drifts to something else, they get a glazed-over look, indicating their boredom. And of course in my self-centerdness, I actually try and compete with these people, trying to get in comments or at least a short phrase, here and there turning the conversation away from them. I know, I can certainly be a little childish and immature.
Last night I was watching The Bachelorette, and there was a guy named Josh who was so focused on impressing Jen with how wonderful he was that he forgot to try and get to know Jen, and in the process forgot to let her talk. She found it very "offputting" and so he got the boot from the show. But I think it taught a great lesson: show a lady how wonderful you are by listening to how wonderful she is. I think it's a lesson that can be applied in all relationships, not only romantic ones.
My sister-in-law, Monica, possesses the great trait of not talking about herself too much. I have actually tried to imitate her example, since I see myself as being the extreme opposite. In our large family, we tend to get into some very lively and heated discussions. Sometimes we get to the end of the conversation and Monica hasn't even spoken a word, or maybe just a comment or two. I remember asking her about that one time. "How do you do it? How do you just not explode over what you want to say?" She told me that she likes to hear what everyone else has to say and take it all in. Then she said, "Besides, if I wait long enough, someone else usually offers the opinion I had anyway." And in my self-centerdness I thought, "But don't you want to be the one to say it?" I felt ashamed of that thought almost a minute after it crossed my head. And it really opened my eyes to my attitudes on the art of conversation.
I think we can feel it when we are talking about ourselves because it is the natural flow of conversation versus a desire to make ourselves known, to make ourselves liked, to prove ourselves, or because we think our thoughts or experiences are just much more interesting than anybody else's. I know I can feel it. It creeps up and feels very much the same as when I know I've eaten too much or am dressed immodestly.
I think about the people who I really like the most and feel comfortable around. They are the people who genuinely listen to me, and offer up their own contributions as a part of the natural flow of the conversation. They make me feel like they are interested in me and who I am, and not because I have inundated them with information about myself. When with these people, I don't feel like I have to talk about myself in order to be liked.
And in an effort to break out of my self-centeredness, I hope not to focus on the people who make me feel this way and take pleasure in them, but rather focus on how I can make myself more like them for the people I come in contact with. I would love it if people said they liked me not because I was so eloquent, funny, witty, or because of what I've said, but rather that they liked me because I made them feel interesting, worthy, or loved.
By the way, I do see the irony of this post. I used words refering to myself in the first person 84 times, and most of this is about my thoughts, my challenges, my irritations, or my resolutions (85,86, 87...). Oh well, maybe I'll accept the challenge tomorrow.
posted by Philothea Rose at
8:49 AM
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