Attempting to relearn conversational skills can reap dividends for married couples, writes John Masterson
I find it hard to think of my mother without also thinking of my father. They were pretty much a double act. In a long marriage, they spent only a few days apart. And when they were together, they talked to each other a lot
I think they liked talking to each other more than they liked talking to anyone else, and this has always stuck in my head as the most important glue in a marriage, or any relationship. Not only did they talk, I believe they actually listened as well.
They were in love up to the last. She never tired of telling the story of how they parted for a year to make sure they were right for each other. I never saw the sense of it, but it worked for them. Apparently, he used to stand on Baggot Street Bridge hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving work in the nearby hospital, where she was a nurse. I don’t think she ever caught him. Though I am sure someone must have, because he was about as discreet as I am.
I can remember lying awake in bed as a child and hearing them chatting downstairs. Or waking up and hearing them laughing in bed. They were about as connected as two human beings who still have their own lives could be. And they never tired of it. They shared a world view. They didn’t argue much. But they were quite happy to disagree, though usually, it was not about things of much significance. I could never imagine either of them saying, “I don’t want to discuss that any further.” The notion of giving the other the silent treatment would never have entered their heads.
Some of it must have rubbed off on me, as I am never happier that when I am having a good conversation with a woman. I concede that I am not always the best listener, but there are a few people I find it effortless to listen to, and those are the ones whose company I seek out. Frequently, it is not the subject matter of the conversation that keeps me engaged. It is the style or attitude that the person takes to things.
There are plenty of people who are interested in the same things as I am who would bore me stiff in five minutes. And there are others with whom I have little or nothing in common who keep me fascinated by the way they take on the world and make their own particular sense of it. To a woman, they are blessed with a sense of humour, usually a somewhat quirky one.
You can walk into any magazine shop and see thousands of articles about what to wear, what to weigh, what labels matter, how to have better sex, or more sex etc, etc, etc, all of which are supposed to play some essential part in the mating rituals of today. Anything to do with “the art of good conversation” would be remaindered, pronto.
People meet in nightclubs, where they cannot hear each other think. And they drink too much. Usually, people begin drinking to get rid of shyness. They want to pluck up the courage to have a conversation. And they can read magazines until the cows come home before they will find one that tells them that if you can’t hold a conversation with someone, you won’t have much of a relationship, even if you are as skinny as Posh Spice and have internalised the Kama Sutra. “The value of conversation for love”. That will fly off the shelves.
And yet, when the first attraction turns to something more, how often have you heard someone say, “He/she is so easy to talk to”? It seems to come as a surprise.
John Masterson is a doctor of psychology.
First published in March 2009.
Couples today who just can’t talk the talk
Attempting to relearn conversational skills can reap dividends for married couples, writes John Masterson
I find it hard to think of my mother without also thinking of my father. They were pretty much a double act. In a long marriage, they spent only a few days apart. And when they were together, they talked to each other a lot
I think they liked talking to each other more than they liked talking to anyone else, and this has always stuck in my head as the most important glue in a marriage, or any relationship. Not only did they talk, I believe they actually listened as well.
They were in love up to the last. She never tired of telling the story of how they parted for a year to make sure they were right for each other. I never saw the sense of it, but it worked for them. Apparently, he used to stand on Baggot Street Bridge hoping to catch a glimpse of her leaving work in the nearby hospital, where she was a nurse. I don’t think she ever caught him. Though I am sure someone must have, because he was about as discreet as I am.
I can remember lying awake in bed as a child and hearing them chatting downstairs. Or waking up and hearing them laughing in bed. They were about as connected as two human beings who still have their own lives could be. And they never tired of it. They shared a world view. They didn’t argue much. But they were quite happy to disagree, though usually, it was not about things of much significance. I could never imagine either of them saying, “I don’t want to discuss that any further.” The notion of giving the other the silent treatment would never have entered their heads.
Some of it must have rubbed off on me, as I am never happier that when I am having a good conversation with a woman. I concede that I am not always the best listener, but there are a few people I find it effortless to listen to, and those are the ones whose company I seek out. Frequently, it is not the subject matter of the conversation that keeps me engaged. It is the style or attitude that the person takes to things.
There are plenty of people who are interested in the same things as I am who would bore me stiff in five minutes. And there are others with whom I have little or nothing in common who keep me fascinated by the way they take on the world and make their own particular sense of it. To a woman, they are blessed with a sense of humour, usually a somewhat quirky one.
You can walk into any magazine shop and see thousands of articles about what to wear, what to weigh, what labels matter, how to have better sex, or more sex etc, etc, etc, all of which are supposed to play some essential part in the mating rituals of today. Anything to do with “the art of good conversation” would be remaindered, pronto.
People meet in nightclubs, where they cannot hear each other think. And they drink too much. Usually, people begin drinking to get rid of shyness. They want to pluck up the courage to have a conversation. And they can read magazines until the cows come home before they will find one that tells them that if you can’t hold a conversation with someone, you won’t have much of a relationship, even if you are as skinny as Posh Spice and have internalised the Kama Sutra. “The value of conversation for love”. That will fly off the shelves.
And yet, when the first attraction turns to something more, how often have you heard someone say, “He/she is so easy to talk to”? It seems to come as a surprise.
John Masterson is a doctor of psychology.
First published in March 2009.