CAN WE TALK?

I’ve always thought of myself as clinically happy. Despite the glibness of that phrase, I mean it quite literally: Whatever the chemical wash is that douses the brain in depression or cheer, I got the happy stuff. When knocked down, I get up. When disappointed, I’m OK after five minutes. But recently I had a one-two punch that knocked me back for more than a few minutes – enough to give me a sense, however limited, of what people who suffer actual depression might experience.

I want to pause here and explain that I’m just fine; those who love me (thank you) need not wonder what veiled sorrow I’m hiding. In fact, the purpose of this post is not about my temporarily depressive burden, but about the fairly simple way it was lifted.

Although I’m more than willing to describe the various items that were weighing me down, I won’t do it here, not because I’m trying to hide them, but because they would cause anyone with real problems to respond, “Oh, boo hoo!”

Part of it was quantitative. To borrow a description that I once heard my friend Jeff use: “I don’t have a full plate – I have a Lazy Susan spinning in front of me!” It was a number of things coming together in what was a busy season to begin with – kind of like that “Stress Scale” that you’ve probably seen:  The Christmas season, 12 stress points; a new baby, 39 stress points; moving to a new home, 20 points, etc.

The only thing that I’ll mention specifically is the tax audit, because that’s what seemed to affect me out of all proportion. It was like throwing a large ham onto the spinning Lazy Susan – a sort of crash. (It was a routine and not a “targeted” audit.) But all of this is just set-up to what inspired this little essay: the "take-away."

My take-away from this episode (or episodes), which are now mainly behind me, is the therapeutic value of having someone to talk to. I’ve known of this concept all my life; I’ve preached about it; I’ve taught it; I’ve written about it in this blog, and it’s not that I’ve never applied it to myself before, but, at least professionally, I’m more often playing the role of the listener. But every once in a while I rediscover the healing benefits of talking to someone about what’s on my mind.

In the case of the spinning plate of cares, I benefited from talking to different people about different things – sometimes I did so purposefully; in one instance I connected somewhat accidentally with someone with whom I had a helpful conversation. The most surprising revelation was how much better I felt after I talked to the tax auditor. The content of our conversation was not all that positive (the audit, in fact, did not go well for me), but it seemed as though the combined psychological and physiological elements of talking with another person had a biochemical effect on my brain and my body. Endorphins? Ions? It’s like taking a shower after a grueling racquetball game – even in defeat. The shower washes away the defeat along with the grime, and, post-shower, all the world seems new. I felt a bit like the young man who once told me, after a counseling session, “I think ya done me some good!”

An obvious element of the dynamics of this is that – especially with something like an audit – the mind can work mischief, so the value of talking is not only psychological, but also factual: One’s imaginings may be worse than the real story – so better get the straight scoop.

A woman once approached me to unburden herself of something that had been bothering her for six weeks -- something she had said to me the last time we talked. I didn’t want to seem unconcerned, but I had to tell her honestly that I had forgotten it about ten seconds after she’d left my office. So I’m glad she carried that load for only six weeks and not six years. Talk it out.

Perhaps a word about the nature of my audit conversation is in order: I found the auditor’s office in a nondescript building on the outskirts of a nearby city. I’m glad that I had decided ahead of time not to try to be funny or smart, because when I walked in, sitting behind a gray steel desk was Agent No-Nonsense. She reminded me of Mrs. Narsgaard, the Sunday School superintendent who took over our sixth grade class when we literally ran our teacher out of the room. We straightened right up. And so did I, on the other side of the audit desk. I don’t mean this mockingly. I came to love Mrs. Narsgaard (she was actually my Mom’s best friend), and I liked the straightforwardness of the agent. I can only imagine the number of times that woebegone clients, sitting in the same chair I was in, succumbed to fear, trembling, and tears. Although she was, in one way, as steely as her desk, something in her manner convinced me that she would treat them fairly and gently.

I shed no tears, but she was kind, firm, and (unfortunately) thorough. I felt as though I’d been heard, and a load was lifted. Later, in a follow-up conversation, she actually said something very much like, “Now, I hope this has been a lesson for you.” But by then it sounded like a word from Mom.

WHAT DO YOU THINK ABOUT THIS WEATHER?... AND THE QUADRATIC RECIPROCITY THEOREM?

A recent study (as reported in this New York Times article) indicates that the more we engage in conversations of some length and depth (what the study calls “substantive” conversations) the happier we are, and that people whose social interaction is heavily weighted toward “small talk” are less happy. According to the article, the study doesn’t answer the obvious question: Is it that happy people engage in deep conversations, or that deep conversations make us happy? (That, apparently, is the subject of some follow-up research.)

In a BBC interview, the author of the study acknowledged that healthy-minded people certainly engage in conversation at both levels, but that small talk for those in the happy group is probably limited to about 10% of interactive time – kind of like “How ‘bout them Yankees?” at the beginning of a cocktail party discussion before entering deeply into a twenty-minute tete-a-tete on the relationship between the current value of the Euro and the New York Stock Exchange.

Although my example sounds flippant, my intention is not to mock. I am one who hungers for conversation, and I find this research encouraging (though I am happy to report that the study comes to no apparent conclusion about the importance of the deep conversationalists knowing what they’re talking about!).

Interestingly, the study doesn’t delve into its application to new social networks like Facebook, etc., but it certainly hints at some logical conclusions: I enjoy – to a degree – the clipped and often witty Facebook exchanges between and among dozens of friends – including (though to a lesser extent) friends of friends. They even elicit witty repartee from me. But this kind of interchange seems to have a built-in fatigue trigger – after a while it’s literally no fun. With close and long-time friends, I switch to e-mail or telephone and – although they must speak for themselves – I’ve never received an e-mail from a friend that I thought was too long. I contend that a multi-day braided e-mail conversation among three friends discussing a subject at some depth approaches the same kind (though surely not the same degree) of fulfillment as a lengthy confab over a glass of wine or a cup of coffee. (I’m not the only one who may be a challenging Facebook friend because of the difficulty of keeping those short “comments” from turning into something like little essays.) As an old friend said in an initial Facebook exchange: “Hey, this is just like e-mail – only less convenient!”

At the risk of damning with faint praise, Facebook has its place -- and I'm increasingly glad to be part of it. When you think about it, Facebook is almost a literal (and, I think, positive) response to John Updike’s existential invitation: “We are all so curiously alone, but it’s important that we keep making signals through the glass,” so I do not conclude (from this study) that happy people are on e-mail and unhappy people are on Facebook. I conclude, rather, that too much Facebook (or Twitter, or “how ‘bout them Yankees” or People Magazine) can bring you down. (One can quibble with the exact figure, but 10% sounds about right.) Like the couch potato (in me) who needs to get out into the sun, the Facebooker (in all of us) needs to "hie thee to a coffee shop" and have a good old-fashioned bull session.

(I'd love to hear your views on this.  Maybe on Facebook!)

THE THINGS THAT MAKE FOR PEACE II. "I Think Ya Done Me Some Good"

"Let us then pursue the things that make for peace and build up the common life." ~ Romans 14:19

Early in my ministry a young man phoned and asked if he could come in and talk to me. We made an appointment for later that day, and he spent about an hour in my office telling me about some things that were on his mind: mistakes he had made and some decisions he had before him. Later that evening he called to thank me and said, “I think ya done me some good!”

I remember this exchange (and those exact words) because it was the first of what has become a repeated experience over the years: I “helped” somebody primarily by sitting and listening. I don’t mean to be disingenuous; I probably contributed some humble skill in the “art of pastoral conversation” (as the title of one of my seminary texts had it), but, mostly, I listened.

And I’ve been on the other side of the desk, so to speak. Once or twice in the office of another professional listener, but more likely over a cup of coffee or glass of wine with a friend. And the load is lifted. (I have come to see this kind of therapy as almost mathematical: You have this weight you’re carrying around, you divide it in half and ask your friend to carry it with you.)

I suppose, dear reader, that this reflection strikes you as stating the obvious (and, indeed, I hope you have experienced this kind of restorative conversation), but it is such a basic item in the kit-bag of human interaction that I include it here as a part of this series: If the burden is heavy, find someone to talk to – either a professional whom you trust or, in the words of the old saying, “that’s what friends are for.”

I am blessed to live in a marriage in which Caryl and I talk to each other about anything and everything. Still, sometimes it seems as though one’s friend might add a needed perspective. And I remember the time when, after a rare “bad day,” Caryl was sharing her troubles with me. As I launched into a knowing reply, she interrupted me and said, “I don’t want you to fix it. I just want you to listen.” Physician, heal thyself.

And here’s another reason to seek out a friend:

I knocked today at my friend's door;
he answered, and I entered;
"I've the best possible reason for coming," I said.
"What's that?" he inquired.
"I've missed you."
I had no other reason.
I just wanted to stand up close,

shoulder to shoulder, heart to heart
with this, my friend.
We found it reason enough.

                        ~ Gerhard Frost

Next post: "The Anxiety Thermostat"

(Footnote: Clinical depression, of course, is another matter. Both as counselor and as friend I will sometimes suggest, “I think you should talk to your doctor.”)

THE THINGS THAT MAKE FOR PEACE

"Let us then pursue the things that make for peace and build up the common life." ~ Romans 14:19

I attended seminary during a time when our classes in pastoral counseling included a heavy emphasis on current psychological theories and therapeutic methods. Hanging out a shingle as a licensed therapist requires additional years of study and practice beyond the eight years of college and seminary, so we seminarians joked among ourselves that we were learning just enough psychology to be dangerous. I’m glad to report that we also learned the value and frequent necessity of referring parishioners to those licensed healers, recognizing the point at which – although one continues to walk with the parishioner as pastor – a more studied  knowledge of mental health and the healing of relationships is called for.

So, as is necessary in all callings and occupations, I know the limits of my training and abilities. However, as I look back over thirty-five years of ministry, I have discovered that some of those “Counseling 101” methods and techniques have actually been helpful and have stood me in good stead as I’ve sought – certainly imperfectly – to apply the communication arts as a husband, father, pastor, and friend.

In a series of posts to this web journal, I’m going to reflect on a number of these methods. (This is not just an academic exercise for me. I think these really work in everyday life, and I’m happy to endorse them.)

I. CAN WE TALK?

“If you are having a personal conflict with someone, and you go directly to that person and talk it out, it will never make the situation any worse, and it will probably make it better.”

I’ve put that sentence in quotes because it is exactly the way in which one of my mentors stated it to a group of young seminarians and college students. You might want to read it again. I think I have remembered it verbatim because I’ve applied it often through the years, and have always found it to be true.

True, yes, but not easy. It never really gets any easier to approach someone with, “I wonder if we could talk about what has happened between us…” (or some variation on that request). But the only thing harder than having an honest conversation about a problem in a relationship is not having the conversation.  Although I don’t want to give the impression that my life is peppered with these difficult occasions, I have found nine-and-a-half times out of ten that I have come away from such a session with a lighter heart and an easier mind – and a healed relationship. (The content of such conversations is, in part, what the rest of this series will be about.)

As with all of the tips in this series, this one assumes a basic level of mental health at work in both parties. As St. Paul advises, “If it is possible, so far as it depends on you, live peaceably with all.” (Romans 12:18). Sometimes it may not be possible. But, “so far as it depends on you,” I recommend heartily this direct approach to reconciliation.

Next Post: “Ya Done Me Some Good!”