Change Maven Musings: On Conversation

Real stories. Real people. Real change.

Welcome to Changemakers Confidential, where we share real stories from real people on real change.

We can’t always change the circumstances that surround us, but we can choose the conversation we generate about them.

I hate this quote.

I hate it because it tells me very simply what I’m able to do and not do. What’s within my control and what’s not. Words, yes. Mindset, yes. People and circumstances, no. And that’s often the opposite of what I want to do.

I want to be able to change the circumstances that surround me, especially when they don’t work for me, through sheer force of will and my often-right ideas about things. AND I want to be able to say whatever the hell I want in those circumstances.

That’s not how it works, though.

Circumstances ebb and flow, like oceanic tides. They rise, they fall, they have a rhythm, that is both predictable and unpredictable. Storms sweep in, calm waters follow, the depths teem with life and continuous adaptability and growth. Much like how life can be for each of us, if we choose to see and live it that way.

But choosing the conversation we generate about these waxing and waning circumstances, well…that’s just more self-awareness than I want to do. I want to speak without restraint, fueled by the self-righteousness of my emotions, by my version of the story, and have those words be the absolute truth. I said my piece. Done. You heard me and you know that I’m right.

That’s not how it works, though.

Words are like the knife of a carver. They free the idea, the thing from the general formlessness of the outside. ~Inuit wisdom

Carving is an intentional act. You select the appropriate implement for the job, you prepare your workspace, don an apron (because the juicy juices do spatter up sometimes), and place the item to be carved on the board. You take a few moments to center and focus on the task before you, well aware that you have a razor-sharp knife in your hand, could lose a finger or two if you fuck it up, and that your goal is to have a smooth transition from carcass to platter.

The words we choose are also an intentional act, and are delivered with just as sharp of an implement, meaning our thoughts behind them, the actual words we choose to say, and the impact of how they land on the person/group in front of us. They arise from circumstances that we may or may not have chosen. That may or may not have much to do with us. Yet, we may feel powerful, all-consuming emotions well up from those circumstances, given our modeling, life experience, our personhood. Interestingly, what one person feels may not even register with another. This is where discernment and choice come in. The conversation we choose to generate, the carving we choose to undertake.

We may ask ourselves, what is our goal in this exchange? To be seen? Heard? Understood? To see, hear, understand the other person? To learn, to stretch into new spaces, to grow? To be right? To set a boundary? To create connection? To walk away, to stay? All of these may apply, and it’s on us to ask those questions, to pause for a few moments as we take up our carving knife and prepare to create the shape of the conversation we want to have.

Questions for reflection/further discussion: I invite you to take a few moments to consider the following questions and leave your thoughts in the comments, if moved to do so - I would love to hear your thoughts!

• What circumstances do you find yourself in right now that could benefit from a “carver’s approach” to conversation?

• How would you answer the question, what is my goal in this exchange? as you prepare to have that conversation?

• What thoughts, feelings, and past experience surround these circumstances? Do they still apply today? If so, how so? If not, what’s one thing you could shift in your conversation about them to reflect who you are today and today’s reality?

• Where can you extend kindness and grace to yourself? To the other person/party?

Thanks, all, for reading this week!

Your change maven extraordinaire,

Kristina