gained in translation

I recently spent some time with a dear friend who moved away ten years ago. Our sons are close in age, and both of us were new mothers and new in town when we first connected at a La Leche meeting almost 17 years ago.

We used to pop our baby boys into backpacks and tote them along the Boulder Creek Path for as long as they would tolerate it while we indulged in deeply philosophical discussions. She introduced me to Alan Watts and Tom Robbins. I introduced her to Conversations with God. My interactions with her have always been rich, stimulating, and thought-provoking. She's a real treasure in my life, and she brings out the best in me. (I love you, Diana!)

Anyway, as we explored the subject of cynicism while catching up on things, I overheard myself telling her that I've recently discovered the existence of a translator in my head that can transform criticism, judgment, and complaints into simple requests for love and attention.

I can't say that I am actually making use of it full-time quite yet, but I do notice that when the translator is turned on, I feel much warmer and happier and more satisfied with my life.

Theoretically, here's how it works:

Let's say someone who hasn't yet experienced the value of communicating with I-messages tells me, "You aren't listening."

When the translator is switched off, I might listen between the words and hear, in a condescending and icy tone: "There is something wrong with you." I might respond to this kind of message with defensiveness, confusion, or withdrawal.

With the translator on, I hear a small and plaintive voice pleading: "Will you pay more attention to me?" I may be able to grant this request and I may not, but either way I don't feel defensive, and I don't feel the urge to distance myself to avoid further attack. I can remain in contact and connection.

A Course in Miracles teaches that there are only two messages ever being communicated -- love, or a request for love. One response is appropriate for both messages -- offer love. This nifty translator makes even the most cloaked or obscure requests so clear that I feel compelled to respond with compassion.

So when I happen to notice the frozen rigidity of defensiveness in my body, I take a breath and intend to activate my translator. Sometimes it comes online right away, and other times it doesn't, and that's okay. I'm just happy to know it's there, and grateful for the opportunity to practice using it.