Ouch.. and then again, Well said!
A letter from a friend, Zack, who is working with me as a leader for the ministry at church...
Heya Laura,
Here's a long one for ya.
When I write emails, it's usually with a confident, almost smarmy voice, laden with sarcasm, humorously empty threats, and sometimes a bit of wit. It's the way I like my writing to sound. The upside is that people enjoy the emails. The downside is that most emails I write take far too long to craft, and when I don't take that time, people may think something's wrong when it isn't. If you thought I was angry, disillusioned, disgusted, disappointed, mad, sad, etc., about this, or that I was questioning your dedication, rest assured that I was not. Complaining is like a hobby for me, and when I am unhappy, you will surely know it.
Or think of it this way - at my happiest, I sound a little antagonistic and put off. Just imagine how ripped I would sound if something was actually wrong.
In other, more concise words, my emails weren't "off" because I was frustrated with you or anything like that. My emails were off because I was in a bit off a rush and I've known you long enough to not subconsciously try to impress you with my mastery of the English language. I'm sorry if it came off that way.
That being said, we do have a failure to communicate. I think this is why:
As for me, I am a person who mutters, who mumbles, who words things awkwardly in attempts to be clever, and who assumes that everyone who has heard my muttering and mumbling knows what I'm talking about. And I plan things out.
And as for you, I think you don't always hear or understand my vague mumblings, but rather than ask me to clarify, you're prone to nodding and assuming it will all work out. And you're fine with that "nick of time" mindset. I know you're not flighty or in the clouds really. Just accommodating and willing to go with the flow.
Regardless, I have noticed this failure to communicate before. Like when I was left hanging with the Youth Room mis-schedule. I have tried to compensate for this by really being sure I'm saying everything to you clearly, but it's not really working because my definition of "clearly" is breaking something down into a million steps and repeating something over and over until I sound like a nag. You may think a nagging, chronic planner describes me well. Most people who know me would be surprised at the description. Its my own overcompensation for this situation. And I for one would like to stop it. I'm sure you would like to see it stop.
So I've been thinking about how this problem can be solved, and about how I can relax and not feel like I need to tell you everything three times. And on my part, I still need to communicate more clearly, and be more sensitive to your schedule so that I know I'm not asking too much of you, and I'll work on that. Now for your part.
Stop nodding.
Ok, that probably won't do it. But what I mean is this: (and be warned, there's a fantastic chance that the following paragraph will really offend you. I'm sorry if it does.)
I think you tend to erect this smiling, happy persona to show people. It's the "flighty, in the clouds" person that people see, and some part of you may like it that way. I don't know if it's something you do to hide your true feelings, a mask you wear to make people like you, or if you just want to avoid conflict, or if it's an honest attempt to make your attitude good and your feelings follow it. I suspect it's probably somewhere in between. Either way, it drives me nuts. NOT because I don't like your personality, or because I think its annoying, or anything like that. Please don't get me wrong - I do think you are one of the sweetest, most caring people I know and I really appreciate that about you. But it's frustrating because you hardly ever drop the mask. Almost never. The only time I've ever seen the non-Elmo side of you was the day of the pig-roast, when we went to Quizznos and talked about past relationships. Or during those really brief respites when you mention your problems with dirt or germs.
It frustrates me because I don't know when I've offended you. I don't really know when you disagree with me. I don't know when I'm asking too much of you, or not making sense to you, or frustrating the heck out of you. (Ok, sometimes even I can see that I'm frustrating the heck out of you. But I usually don't know why.) I am too darn dense and insensitive to pick up on these things well. You don't have to always smile and nod at me; I am already impressed by how genuinely nice you are, and I am already your friend. You can, and should, tell me when I'm being a jerk.
So for example, two weeks ago I asked you to get me the details for 5 events by September 30th. Yes, I did ask that. Perhaps not that clearly - I write better than I speak. I know you can't make that deadline now and that's totally fine. Regardless, perhaps you thought I couldn't possibly have meant 5 events in 2.5 weeks, and just assumed that I meant one weekend by the thirtieth, and left it at that. In the future, please don't leave it at that. Say something like "Lock down 5 events in 2 weeks? Hello? Are you nuts?"
In other, more concise words, I think the nature of our problem is that we don't discuss the planning of our plans. I dictate a schedule to you, you nod and say "great," and then it doesn't happen. What we need is a discussion. You need to honestly and openly tell me when I'm dumping too much on you, asking for too much too fast, and generally being too demanding or controlling. And its ok to say you don't like my idea for an event, or you dislike what I've got in mind for this ministry, or something like that. I know I am prone to doing such jerkish things - I won't be hurt by you saying so.
God did not call you here to listen to me. He called you to this ministry idea to make it work, and a big part of that involves discussion. As long as we stay focused on Him, such talks will only strengthen this ministry. So please, please feel like you can argue with me, confirm things with me, set your own schedule, tell me to shove it, etc.
Alright, I've rambled on for long enough. Let's end this monstrous email. To recap: I'm not mad at you, I'm not disillusioned, and I'm still excited about Poco-premid. However, I think we may be getting into a bad pattern, partially because I ask to much of you, and I suspect partially because you don't tell me how you feel at our planning sessions. As a partner in ministry, I want to correct that pattern, and as your friend, I want you to feel like you don't have to pretend around me, or at least know that dodging all possible conflicts with me may not be the best way to go. But you know you still rock, and if I didn't like you and care about this ministry I wouldn't have spent so long writing you this email.
So there. I hope this wasn't too long, or too offensive, or too much to deal with this early in the morning. How are you feeling? Is my insight actually insightful, or am I a few miles west of base? Are there more problems with me and my attitude that I didn't mention and you could enlighten me on? Do you need help with the details, or do you just want to take this month one week at a time? Lemme know.
As for this weekend, I think it may be time to invoke the emergency plan. For service opportunities, we may need to find when opportunities are available and work our schedule around them. If you haven't told me otherwise by then, I'll send out the cafe by the corner thing tonight.
Have a good one, Laura. We'll see you Friday.
Zack
Heya Laura,
Here's a long one for ya.
When I write emails, it's usually with a confident, almost smarmy voice, laden with sarcasm, humorously empty threats, and sometimes a bit of wit. It's the way I like my writing to sound. The upside is that people enjoy the emails. The downside is that most emails I write take far too long to craft, and when I don't take that time, people may think something's wrong when it isn't. If you thought I was angry, disillusioned, disgusted, disappointed, mad, sad, etc., about this, or that I was questioning your dedication, rest assured that I was not. Complaining is like a hobby for me, and when I am unhappy, you will surely know it.
Or think of it this way - at my happiest, I sound a little antagonistic and put off. Just imagine how ripped I would sound if something was actually wrong.
In other, more concise words, my emails weren't "off" because I was frustrated with you or anything like that. My emails were off because I was in a bit off a rush and I've known you long enough to not subconsciously try to impress you with my mastery of the English language. I'm sorry if it came off that way.
That being said, we do have a failure to communicate. I think this is why:
As for me, I am a person who mutters, who mumbles, who words things awkwardly in attempts to be clever, and who assumes that everyone who has heard my muttering and mumbling knows what I'm talking about. And I plan things out.
And as for you, I think you don't always hear or understand my vague mumblings, but rather than ask me to clarify, you're prone to nodding and assuming it will all work out. And you're fine with that "nick of time" mindset. I know you're not flighty or in the clouds really. Just accommodating and willing to go with the flow.
Regardless, I have noticed this failure to communicate before. Like when I was left hanging with the Youth Room mis-schedule. I have tried to compensate for this by really being sure I'm saying everything to you clearly, but it's not really working because my definition of "clearly" is breaking something down into a million steps and repeating something over and over until I sound like a nag. You may think a nagging, chronic planner describes me well. Most people who know me would be surprised at the description. Its my own overcompensation for this situation. And I for one would like to stop it. I'm sure you would like to see it stop.
So I've been thinking about how this problem can be solved, and about how I can relax and not feel like I need to tell you everything three times. And on my part, I still need to communicate more clearly, and be more sensitive to your schedule so that I know I'm not asking too much of you, and I'll work on that. Now for your part.
Stop nodding.
Ok, that probably won't do it. But what I mean is this: (and be warned, there's a fantastic chance that the following paragraph will really offend you. I'm sorry if it does.)
I think you tend to erect this smiling, happy persona to show people. It's the "flighty, in the clouds" person that people see, and some part of you may like it that way. I don't know if it's something you do to hide your true feelings, a mask you wear to make people like you, or if you just want to avoid conflict, or if it's an honest attempt to make your attitude good and your feelings follow it. I suspect it's probably somewhere in between. Either way, it drives me nuts. NOT because I don't like your personality, or because I think its annoying, or anything like that. Please don't get me wrong - I do think you are one of the sweetest, most caring people I know and I really appreciate that about you. But it's frustrating because you hardly ever drop the mask. Almost never. The only time I've ever seen the non-Elmo side of you was the day of the pig-roast, when we went to Quizznos and talked about past relationships. Or during those really brief respites when you mention your problems with dirt or germs.
It frustrates me because I don't know when I've offended you. I don't really know when you disagree with me. I don't know when I'm asking too much of you, or not making sense to you, or frustrating the heck out of you. (Ok, sometimes even I can see that I'm frustrating the heck out of you. But I usually don't know why.) I am too darn dense and insensitive to pick up on these things well. You don't have to always smile and nod at me; I am already impressed by how genuinely nice you are, and I am already your friend. You can, and should, tell me when I'm being a jerk.
So for example, two weeks ago I asked you to get me the details for 5 events by September 30th. Yes, I did ask that. Perhaps not that clearly - I write better than I speak. I know you can't make that deadline now and that's totally fine. Regardless, perhaps you thought I couldn't possibly have meant 5 events in 2.5 weeks, and just assumed that I meant one weekend by the thirtieth, and left it at that. In the future, please don't leave it at that. Say something like "Lock down 5 events in 2 weeks? Hello? Are you nuts?"
In other, more concise words, I think the nature of our problem is that we don't discuss the planning of our plans. I dictate a schedule to you, you nod and say "great," and then it doesn't happen. What we need is a discussion. You need to honestly and openly tell me when I'm dumping too much on you, asking for too much too fast, and generally being too demanding or controlling. And its ok to say you don't like my idea for an event, or you dislike what I've got in mind for this ministry, or something like that. I know I am prone to doing such jerkish things - I won't be hurt by you saying so.
God did not call you here to listen to me. He called you to this ministry idea to make it work, and a big part of that involves discussion. As long as we stay focused on Him, such talks will only strengthen this ministry. So please, please feel like you can argue with me, confirm things with me, set your own schedule, tell me to shove it, etc.
Alright, I've rambled on for long enough. Let's end this monstrous email. To recap: I'm not mad at you, I'm not disillusioned, and I'm still excited about Poco-premid. However, I think we may be getting into a bad pattern, partially because I ask to much of you, and I suspect partially because you don't tell me how you feel at our planning sessions. As a partner in ministry, I want to correct that pattern, and as your friend, I want you to feel like you don't have to pretend around me, or at least know that dodging all possible conflicts with me may not be the best way to go. But you know you still rock, and if I didn't like you and care about this ministry I wouldn't have spent so long writing you this email.
So there. I hope this wasn't too long, or too offensive, or too much to deal with this early in the morning. How are you feeling? Is my insight actually insightful, or am I a few miles west of base? Are there more problems with me and my attitude that I didn't mention and you could enlighten me on? Do you need help with the details, or do you just want to take this month one week at a time? Lemme know.
As for this weekend, I think it may be time to invoke the emergency plan. For service opportunities, we may need to find when opportunities are available and work our schedule around them. If you haven't told me otherwise by then, I'll send out the cafe by the corner thing tonight.
Have a good one, Laura. We'll see you Friday.
Zack
posted by Laura Alden at Friday, October 01, 2004
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