Communication is what the other person hears.
Earlier this week I was on the receiving end of a customer service transaction that reminded me of one of my big lessons from 2013. Simply put, communication is what the other person hears. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice it to say that what I was trying to communicate was NOT what was being heard. The moment she heard what would make the transaction easier for her as the employee, she stopped communicating what would be easier for me as the customer.
A musician friend taught me the concept of musical dynamics this past summer (note: I am not a musician and so will surely get this at least partly wrong). Musical dynamics are the way a listener hears music. It’s why when you hear that high school band play they sound like a wall of muddy notes slipping down past your ears. Each band member plays his instrument like they’re the star of the show. The drummer plays louder and harder. The guitarist cranks her amp to be heard over the drums. The singer yells over the guitar and drums.
When a Beatles song comes on every person in the room wants to move to the beat. It’s crisp. Each person plays his role in the band—hitting each note, beat, and harmony with perfection. That’s musical dynamics. It can be fun for musicians to play for themselves like the high school band. But when musicians have great dynamics, it’s nearly magical for the listener.
Communication is what the other person hears. A band communicates through music. A preacher communicates through words and illustrations. Retailers communicate through marketing. People communicate by our words and behaviors.
To communicate well, we have to be other-focused. We have to put ourselves in the other person’s shoes to hear what they hear, see what they see, and experience what they experience. It changes the dynamics of every interaction.
In your interactions this week, listen to yourself through the other person’s ears. Watch your face and your body language through the other person’s eyes. Then ask, “Am I communicating to get my message out, or to have it received?”
I’d love to know—what have you found that helps you communicate well?
This something I have learned the hard way. It is often amusing and sometimes scary what patients hear. I look for cues that my patient is understanding me, repeat myself and ask if they have questions. I write things down. It helps but does not eliminate the problem. It’s worse when I get in a hurry. The thing that has helped me the most: knowing it does not matter how correct my diagnosis is nor how perfect my treatment is if the patient does not understand the instructions AND carry them out. People need to understand the “what” but the “why” also.