Go Ahead:Blurt It Out!

June 17, 2009

GO AHEAD: BLURT IT OUT!

Yesterday was one of those days when a few so called ”small” experiences came together in just the right way to turn a seemingly unremarkable day into a memorable one for me.

First, someone handed me a CD of what seems like a wonderful book I am just starting to listen to called the Power of Small. This book explores the dramatic results that can come about when you change your mind set from one of going the extra mile to going the extra inch instead!

Adults with ADD are often pushing ahead, seeing the big picture, thinking up large ideas. We often struggle with the fact that we don’t have the kind of time, attention, or space we feel we need to take care of what we want to accomplish- let alone to take the time to reach out to another person. As a result, we don’t make that call or send that email to people we care about.

The concept of going the extra inch, can give us a way to sift through all the competing choices to decide which ones to act on in those small fleeting moments. This mind set can give us the permission to act on our best impulses, to blurt out what we feel from the heart- to connect to another human being in a way that not just feels good, but that keeps us anchored and keeps our attention focused in the most meaningful direction.

This is important because what often gets lost for adults with attention challenges in that all or nothing idea of waiting for the big gesture, the huge block of  time and space that never presents itself- is the human relationship, or as Ned Hallowell calls it,The Human Moment.

Let me be clear. I am not talking about superficiality, perkiness, indiscriminate niceness or insincere social obligations.

I am talking about recognizing your true feelings about another person, the ones that fly quickly across your mind and then allowing yourself to take an extra few seconds to express your awareness or your appreciation of them.

Here’s two things that happened for me yesterday.

I started the day by seeing the same woman I see every morning hard at work at the same desk at an office I go into briefly every day at the beginning of the day. I usually say “Hi. How are you?” and quickly move on so I won’t be held up with small talk.

Yesterday something different happened, though.

I realized that I liked seeing her there every day! Even though we have no real business together, she suddenly somehow moved from background to foreground for me.  I realized I was comforted by her constant presence there every morning- that her stability created a sense of continuity for me- something I could depend on every day when so many other things were constantly changing.

 I blurted out “ You know, it’s nice to see you there every day. It’s good to know I can count on something everyday!” I did it with humor so I didn’t sound crazy, but we both laughed and I could tell that what I said fit with her own narrative about how she saw herself. I had seen her and taken the time to express to her that I saw her dependability, her stability- the qualities she values in herself.

It made a difference to someone that she makes the effort to get there every day no matter what is happening at home or how tired she is. That was our moment.

So go ahead -if you have a genuine, caring feeling for someone you encounter, if their presence in the world matters to you, whether it is the person who delivers mail or serves you coffee every day, if normally you would let the moment pass and move quickly on to the next important thing, stop for a second, (scan for inappropriate sexual or personal content), and then go ahead and blurt it out!

Last evening, I visited with a woman who has dementia and who lives in a small home with other residents. I had only met her the day before and at that time she was not able to communicate clearly about what she wanted to say.

 Last night, though, things were different.

When I came in, she was sitting on the couch watching a re-run of I Love Lucy.  I sat down next to her and we watched together.

She told me who the characters were and explained to me that Lucy was always getting into trouble.

It may have seemed like something small, but there was no place I would rather have been last night than sitting on the couch with a woman I will call Jane, holding hands and watching reruns of I Love Lucy.

With deep pleasure, relaxing completely into the moment, I squeezed Jane’s hand, laughed loudly, and blurted out..

                &n bsp;     “I LOVE Lucy!”

Jane turned to me, looked me in the eye, and said,

                &n bsp;  “And I… Love You!”

You can call it the power of small...but it’s hard to call a moment like that anything else but  “grand”.