Posted in reply to the post by Shandi:
Clint, I agree with your summary, and just wonder about this part: "
"Most all of us are addicted in some way and we could all use some help. Meeting our real emotional and relational needs doesn't cost a lot of money. It does mean turning our attention from all our distractions (including the socially sanctioned ones - like work), spending quality time with each other, offering our presence and our heart-level truth to each other - and creating an environment that is safe, accepting, caring and supportive enough to invite all of who we are to be present, seen and heard."
Addictions are not easy to eliminate, and replace with what you're suggesting. Who of us will turn our attention from our addicting distractions? Imagine how difficult it would be to turn off the TV for even a day? Or our cell phone, computer, shopping, etc.
I agree that if we were willing and able to do these things you suggest, it would help a lot. This is what's behind my willingness to spend time with the people I know who are lonely, isolated and mentally ill. I could be spending my time having more personal fun, but I believe that the time I spend with them makes a huge difference. It's something I can do to show that I care....that someone cares.
To be able to "listen" is the greatest gift we can give each other, and all beings have the need to be heard, even if they're shy and have difficulty expressing or if they're manic unstoppable talkers. I know that this is something I've been blessed with, the ability to be with someone and truly listen.
I remember the first time I met a mentally ill person who always wore headphones with music blasting (to shut out the sounds of his environment). I invited him to sit with me, and to share my sandwich. He started talking, but left the headphones in place, but probably turned the volume down. He told me he was bipolar, and other details of what was going on in his life. He talked very fast and very loud, but I continued to hold eye contact, and just listen, with no questions. (There really wasn't space for me to speak anyway, but I had no need.)
After about 20 minutes into his monologue, he removed the headphones, and said "You're really listening, aren't you?" I said "Yes, I am." After that day, he stopped wearing his headphones when we visited with each other. He had a lot to say, and I had the feeling that he'd never really been heard. Now, almost 20 years later, I've given him a cell phone, and he calls almost everyday, just to be listened to. Sometimes, I say "I need to tell you something", and it can take awhile for him to make that space to hear me. But I explain that if he doesn't listen to me, he's going to miss something important that I have to say about an upcoming visit, or asking for a list of his needs. When we are in person with each other, I may use the hand gesture used in schools, for permission to speak, because trying to talk over him doesn't work at all. It's almost like he can't hear me, but his hearing is fine.
With so many of us needing to be heard, it can be a challenge to "just listen", but I believe it's one of the most powerful healing tools we possess. The second powerful tool is to be able to ask for space to be heard, without comment, suggestions or attempts at problem solving from the listener we choose. I realize this is ancient stuff that some of us learned from Carl Rogers, way back in the day. But it still works, even without the reflective feedback.