Nonviolent Communication

I kept hearing about a book by this title, by Marshall Rosenberg, and Sally even hosted an 8-week class at her house, but I didn’t go. Somehow the concept didn’t seem very appealing. Maybe it was just the title. I’m not a violent person. Certainly not when I’m communicating. I never even shout. But two of my three grown children were hearing about it, too. So now, we’re all into it!

I’m reading a treatment of the concept intended for parents, called, Respectful Parents, Respectful Kids (authors Hart and Hodson), which is fascinating to me as grandma of a four-year-old.

The idea is that when we tell somebody what to do (like, “Pick up your toys”), we’re treating them “violently,” or disrespectfully, by attempting to rob them of the ability to choose. We treat ourselves this way when we think, “I should do such-and-so.” The subtext is that I’m not okay if I don’t. Instead, I’m learning, if I say to myself, “I could do such-and-so,” or I might, or perhaps I’ll…, then I retain my own dignity. Self-compassion.

The difference is subtle but profound. To my grandson, I might say, “Would you consider picking up your toys?”, and I’m finding he’s much more cheerful about it. In the women’s group at Sally’s we’re going to start studying the book and sharing experiences of incorporating it. Since none of us were taught about this as children, we’re taking baby steps.

Alchemy

Recently I joined the National Association of Baby Boomer Women (www.nabbw.com), which is a great organization for wisdom, support, tools and a gathering place for mid-life women. They have a book club, which is now reading Paulo Coelho’s The Alchemist. Although I enjoyed reading it ten years ago, I was surprised to find it chock-full of life wisdom and inspiration. In a fairy tale format, it encourages us to connect to the “Soul of the World,” and to pursue a “Personal Legend,” a decision which takes courage and determination. I’m puzzling over what this means to me. Any stories out there of turning points or shifts from business-as-usual to following your bliss?

Six Degrees of Sally

Recently we read a chapter in Malcolm Gladwell’s book, The Tipping Point, about a remarkable woman in Chicago by the name of Lois Weisberg. (Entitled “Six Degrees of Lois Weisberg” the chapter first appeared as an article in The New Yorker in January 1999.) It references the experiments of Harvard psychologist Stanley Miller in the 1960s, who wanted to know how connected people were.

In one experiment, randomly selected people in Omaha were sent a packet and told to try to send it to a specific stockbroker in Massachusetts. But they couldn’t just mail the packet. They had to send it to a friend or acquaintance, aiming to get it to the stockbroker through a chain of friendship. Gladwell reports that, “most of the letters reached the stockbroker in five or six steps. It is from this experiment that we got the concept of six degrees of separation.”

Lois Weisberg is one of a fairly rare class of person who is especially good at connecting people. She knows many people from different economic, social, professional circumstances. “Lois knows lots of people because she likes lots of people,” noted Gladwell.

Similarly, he wrote, “I once met a man named Roger Horchow. If you ever go to Dallas and ask around about who is the kind of person who might know everyone, chances are you will be given his name.”

The subject of our book, Sally—The Older Woman’s Illustrated Guide to Self-Improvement, is the same kind of person. If you ask a variety of people in Spokane, “Who is the kind of person who might know everyone?” chances are you’ll hear the name Sally Pierone.

Sally’s friends are society matrons, artists, alternative health practitioners, psychotherapists, students, psychics, boomers, bridge friends, and on and on. Today she was telling me about making friends with the Roto-Rooter man who came to unclog her kitchen sink this week. They found they had a lot in common.

In the ’70s she hosted a man named Jack Schwartz, who became a famous psychic after surviving a Nazi concentration camp. (While being tortured, he escaped madness by showering his enemies with love. His wounds instantly healed.) She and a friend brought Schwartz to town to give readings. Sally did such a great job booking appointments that Schwartz dubbed her, “The Cosmic Triple A.”

I have a theory that if you live in Spokane, you either know Sally or you know one of her good friends, about two degrees of separation. Further thoughts, anyone?

Do you think such friendliness is innate or acquired? Cheers!

The Blank Slate of the New Year

We meditated today (at our weekly meeting at Sally’s), asking for insight about what we should know (or do) in bringing in the new year. One wise figure said, “You are everything. You are nothing.” I like that. It takes the pressure off. Another woman’s wisdom figure said, “You’ll have some transitions this year. Just greet everything with joy.” That would be a good mantra.

We’re getting some great blog postings. Check out Sally’s sister, Honey (Harriet Hahn), on the “Hi to Sally’s Friends” post. She’s classing up our act.

One of Sally’s former tenants told me in an email today, “I think of her whenever I have a smoothie – especially one that tastes like crap.”

Anyone who knows Sally well understands exactly what she means. Sally stays healthy by drinking some amazingly unappetizing concoctions. I wrote a whole section about her health regimen for the book, then deleted it all. If you’re interested, I’m sure Sal will elaborate.

So, for the new year – bon appetit!