Listening brings serenity, perception

D uring my working days, I did the talking and my subordinates listened — or they were supposed to be listening — and then hoped they would carry out my instructions. One needed to have an aggressive personality for this job. My charge was to motivate others; I was expected to "make something happen" every day. One could go from hero to goat very quickly if he couldn't adapt to the changing circumstances of the market. The ability to keep three balls in the air at the same time was a definite advantage.

I got to thinking the other day about how life has changed since I retired: the change in my demeanor, not forced on me by circumstance, but coming from within, from a desire to change how I face the world. Freed from the gnawing demands of a working life that at times seemed to consume all my days and nights, I've arrived at that stage of life when you begin to let go of all the things you were. I'm now content to "live and let live." I listen patiently to the telemarketer's spiel, knowing that he's as reluctant to make the call as I am to accept it. I look forward to the nightly cribbage game with my wife.

Able to let go of the egoism that drove me during my working days, I now see the people in my life, especially those closest to me, through a clearer lens.

It seems that shortly after I retired, I made my move to become a listener; one can learn from listening. I don't know anyone who ever learned anything from talking. From the start I discovered that the transition was not going to be easy; my inclination to dominate the conversation had become a pernicious habit. I found it difficult not to jump into discussions to refute what someone had said.

Now deep into retirement, I'll take some credit for recognizing that everybody has something to say. I try to listen rather intently to what the other person is saying even if I'm not interested in his topic. I no longer have to have the last word. I've let go of old resentments, forgiving those who may have slighted me in the past. I can feel good about that; it makes living with myself a lot easier.

I'll compliment someone on a job well done; I may offer suggestions on how to solve a problem, but only if asked for my opinion. Otherwise I try to avoid telling people what they should do even if I don't agree with them. (I've noticed that some of my friends have yet to change in that way.) Recently, I had to make an exception to my new focus and ask a very nice neighbor to please refrain from smoking when he comes to visit.

I'm hoping that my new persona is projecting the real me to the world. By changing over to listener, I've brought some serenity to my life that wasn't there before. Moreover, it has resulted in a new perceptivity (a prerequisite for one who would be a writer), to see the world in all its diversity, tolerating others' views even as they differ from one's own.

Dan Riley, a winter resident of Spring Hill, is a veteran of the Navy Amphibious Forces in the Pacific. Retired from the Lever Brothers Co., he writes memoirs, short stories and poetry.