Do You Want To Know A Secret? Listen

Thanks to the Beatles for giving me the title. Indeed, listening is the "secret." 

Whenever I mediate a conflict or whenever I teach people how to handle conflict, I’m amazed at how easily conflicts could be resolved if people just listened to one another. Instead, we think other people are “crazy” to believe, think, and feel as they do. I assure you: To the people with whom we are in conflict, we are the “crazy” ones.

I was thinking about this because of an interesting encounter with a sane man recently. At first, though, I thought he was "crazy" and I was trying to figure out how to get away from him.

I was enjoying my coffee and newspaper at a neighborhood restaurant when I heard from a table near by, “Excuse me. Do you have the time?”

I glanced to my left. The man who had asked was seated a few tables away and was dressed in a stocking cap pulled down almost to his eyebrows and a dirty flannel shirt over a tee shirt that must have once been white but was now gray and stained. His hands, clutching his paper coffee cup, had apparently not been washed in quite some time. In fact, my impression of the man was that he had not washed anything in quite some time. The man appeared to be about 30 years old, although it was tough to tell through the layers of grime and beard stubble.

I glanced at my watch. “8:04” I said and immediately returned to my newspaper. I was certain this would be followed by an appeal for money and I thought that by avoiding eye contact, I could avoid him.

“Do you believe that my parents never gave me any money for clothes?” he asked to no one in particular.

I didn't look up from my newspaper. I was a little afraid. Should I ignore the man or just get up and walk away? I was debating this in my head, listening to my internal dialogue, when I surprised myself by looking the man directly in the eye and asking, in as nonjudgmental a voice as I could muster, “Why are you telling me this?”

A strange thing happened. The man’s eyes cleared. I don’t know how else to describe this. His eyes had appeared cloudy when I first glanced his way and, when I asked my question, they cleared. He had blue eyes.

“I know there’s nothing you can do about it, “ he said looking directly at me and with a conversational voice, as though I were his friend. “I just can’t believe my parents wrote a check to a charity for $3,000 but they won’t give me any money.”

“What do you need?” I asked, expecting that I would now hear that appeal for money.

“Nothing, “ he said. “I just wanted to tell someone. But I’ll get even when they die. When they stand in front of that Man for judgment, I’ll get even.“

“How do you know?” I asked.

“I just know, “ he said. “I have faith.”

"Good luck, “ I said as I rose to leave the restaurant. “I hope things work out for you.”

“Thanks, “ he said. “And God bless you.” The sincerity in his voice was touching. He spoke as if he really did want God to bless me. He never gave any indication that he wanted me to give him money. And, once I really looked at him and listened to what he said, I never had any thought that he was crazy or dangerous.

What struck me was how sane this man turned out to be when I chose to listen to him rather than to myself.

I remembered when I mediated a conflict between the President of a company and his Chief Financial Officer. To me, they were as "crazy" as that man in the restaurant first appeared. It was obvious that they were saying the same thing only coming at it from different directions. They wouldn't have needed me if they simply listened to each other.

Might this apply to other situations when we just can't understand why others don't think as we do? When we think that others must be "crazy" not to act or believe as we do?

By listening, might conflicts "clear" as quickly as that man's eyes had cleared when I listened to him?