Performing for Connection

Most of us walk into a conversation believing we have to earn our place in it. Say something special. Be interesting enough, sharp enough, warm enough that the other person decides we're worth their time.

So we perform. And the performance keeps us in our heads. What are they thinking about me? What should I say next? Did that land? Meanwhile, the other person is running the same script because they believe the same thing: that they have to be somebody to be related to.

Two people doing this to each other is not a conversation. It's two auditions running side by side. No wonder relating feels so clumsy. Each of us is alone in our own head, monitoring our own acts, and then we wonder why we feel separate.

The belief underneath is a familiar one. It says attention, like worth, is something you earn.

The way back is not a better script. It's curiosity. When you get curious about the person in front of you, your attention moves toward them on its own, and the monologue quiets because nobody is feeding it. You start to hear their words, and what's underneath their words.

Something happens on their side too. A person who feels heard without being evaluated starts to drop their defenses. They don't have to protect a point of view that's being respected. You don't have to concede yours for that. You just have to be willing to stand in their shoes for a while.

When that happens, the connection stops needing to be manufactured. What's left is two people, off script, warts and all.