Constant Contact

I will be the first to admit it: I am terrible at keeping in contact with people. I'm inconsistent, I delay my replies, and when I finally do write them, who knows what you'll get? Maybe a 30-word email that addresses the main points of yours, but nothing more. Or maybe I will write you a figurative or literal letter with multiple pages and a great deal of response, and then an update on the last six months of my life as well. It's a crap-shoot--but every time I send out the quick text or email version, I wince inside that I'm not dedicating more of my poorly-allocated time to holding up my end of my relationship with that person.

That's what communication is about--relationship. It's not about fancy words, saying the right thing the right way, "proper" speech or grammar. Those aspects are important, because how one uses them affects the relationship. And following the rules or conventions for grammar, word use, and the rest make it easier to ensure that one's point is understood.



But the point is not to be right. It is to improve the relationship.  Everything about communication exists to encourage relationship-building. Unfortunately for me, and anyone else without the innate gift for correspondence, one of the best ways to do this is to keep in constant contact.

A year or so ago, when there were many Events of Consequence in my life, I and a friend of mine (whom I call my sister, because neither of us have blood-sisters, but have known each other almost our whole lives) took up pen-and-paper correspondence with each other. That period is, I think, one of my favorite times of our relationship. I felt connected to her in a way that I rarely had, and the knowledge of what was going on in her life right then made it so much easier to have compassion and understanding and happiness in reaction to anything she told me. Regretably, we both fell off (I think I was the one who forgot to respond to the most recent letter), and now it is difficult to relate again. I still love her and think of her, for she is my sister, but I don't have the same understanding. Furthermore, my thoughtlessness in letting something so simple but valuable slide to the back of my mind caused our friendship a little hurt.  (I plan to write her a letter after this.)

Another example--and I do not mean to glorify myself by these stories, but they are what have brought this to the forefront of my mind lately--is of a woman whom I met this summer. She and her husband were in a tragic state, with his suffering a dreadful illness, both trying to live of his disability, and her not being able to work for taking care of him. I had offered to help her in any way that I could. After a couple weeks, I hadn't run into her in the neighborhood, so I called her so that I could, at least, give her a listening ear. Since then it has been nearly a month, and though I had left messages on her phone, we have lost contact and become disconnected. This has stunted the beginnings of the friendship that we were making, and it serves only to further highlight how important an open, frequently-used line of communication is for having a strong relationship.

Finally, a positive: A co-worker of mine who is in a different department, but whose responsibilities tie closely to mine, is very attentive to our correspondence. Though I rarely see her, she is quick to respond to any inquiries of mine, continually updating me on any shared-project status. In turn, I make her aware of any issues developing on my end and do my best to provide her with the resources that she needs. Our in-person interactions are brief and casual, but our work relationship is strong, because our communication is frequent, reliable, and relevant. This gives me confidence in her character and her skill, and makes our shared work easy because we do not have to monitor each other or worry about incomplete or late-finished tasks.

It is often easy to take those around us for granted, and to begin attributing to them characteristics and motivations which are not theirs--or to simply ignore that huge, multidimensional, uncooperative but marvelous self with whom we are interacting.  This leads to easy categorizing of their actions, flippant opinions of their behavior, and careless emotional outbursts, even toward those whom we most care for. But keeping constant contact with a relative, a friend--this is the way to counter it. When you hear someone's desires, struggles, decisions, and worries frequently, it is impossible to turn him into a caricature of a whole person, and it becomes imperative to treat him with care and respect.

Is there anyone whom you need to call or write?