On resolutions and learning to listen.

I’m already sixteen days into the new year and I want to change my resolution.

Last year, I practiced active gratefulness, every day, until I was able to internalise it, and it truly improved my outlook on an otherwise challenging and sometimes absolutely heartbreaking year. Every night I go to bed grateful, and my optimism has doubled. This year, I told myself on new year’s eve, let me live fearlessly in everything I do. Let me stop standing in my own way. I still feel this is a noble endeavour and I should actively pursue it, but while researching personality types the other day, I came up with something that is even more important to me than fearlessness.

I started dating an introverted personality type in November. I am quickly becoming very attached to him, for his brilliant qualities of loyalty, kindness, selflessness, his constant consideration of others and their feelings, among other things. Dating someone who is naturally considerate makes me better at being considerate. Dating a good listener makes me want to listen better.

John Francis’ book, The Ragged Edge of Silence, was incredibly influential for me when I first read it almost two years ago. It changed my life, and for about a month, I was hyper-aware of listening, of actively engaging in silence, and of paying attention to others’ thoughts and feelings. Then, as these things happen, I fell off a bit and went back to talking too much and not listening enough. My mother, who is half-Finnish, is, at her best, a very typical Finn. She listens carefully, speaks rarely, and actively absorbs what others say before formulating her own answer. This is a major component of Finnish culture, so much so that anecdotes about the Finns’ long silences and taciturn nature are popular among Russians. 

So, that brings me to my new New Year’s Resolution: every day, I will listen better. I will speak less, if that’s what it calls for; I will empathise instead of throwing unsolicited advice someone’s way (as I tend to do, with the sincerest of good intentions); I will practice active silence when I can. Just like I did with my gratefulness practice, I’ll start by writing it all down. Then, when it’s become an ingrained habit, I’ll no longer have to do that. 

By the way, my Meyers-Briggs result was ENFJ — total opposite of my INTJ boyfriend. I’ll write more about the things I’m learning as this relationship develops, because I’m learning as much about myself as I am about him, as the days pass and I work harder to make the effort of being a good partner.

I am endlessly fascinated at how much we influence each other, as people. Your family determines your internal values, whether those values are a mimic of theirs or a total rebellion against them; the company you keep (friends, colleagues) determines your general day-to-day demeanour; the kind of friend you are is typically a reflection of the way your friends are toward you, and so forth. Because I’m so porous, I am highly influenced by the people in my “inner circle”. In the last five years I have actively worked to distance myself from negative people, or people who don’t serve me in any way (and certainly, those who I don’t serve in any way, either). I’m sure that may come off as callous, but physical health stems from mental/emotional health. What better safeguard against maladies of the soul and body than to surround yourself with those who would lift you up, and whom you would want to bolster in return?

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Side note: I don’t know that I have tonnes of readers, but I value feedback and discussion, particularly as it applies to human relationships and self-discovery, but really, anything beyond that scope. Leave me comments, or even e-mail me sometime if you’re so inclined: olgabrindar@gmail.com . Thanks!