Listening with the Third Ear

Psychoanalyst Theodore Reik, a disciple of Freud, titled his book in this way. What he was teaching the reader or student was that listening, Freud called it, “hovering attention,” was critical in any relationship with a client; if dreams were the royal road to the unconscious, dramatic listening to the highest degree gave access  to both conscious and unconscious dynamics. No one listens in the way therapists are trained to listen in their offices. Listening is different, and much interrupted, in daily life. However, the person who can listen with the third ear can deepen his relationships with those around him, especially family. By this time in my life, after 12 years of not practicing. I mostly in daily interactions try to listen on levels beneath the manifest level. I cannot give up nor do I choose to dispose of a skill I spent years developing — and it is much good fun, too. Almost all good therapists can supply incidences in which they really listened to their clients and responded with what they heard. Often the client is taken aback because he or she is being listened to in ways rarely ever experienced. When a client has ended therapy, he or she probably will have acquired this skill as well, to shut up and listen. An interpretation given by the therapist is based on several listening experiences which are then reflected upon and given to the client to assist him to see into his behavior.

“So, Fred, apparently you want it both ways. You want to be heard at the office but you also do not hear others. It is as if you want to be first. Your relationships are based on competitiveness.” Such might be an interpretation based on several or more sessions with Fred. At this point I will segue to my teaching experience at OLLI, a program here in Nevada and elsewhere, in which retirees matriculate as well as teach courses they feel confident in. One woman teaches about Star Trek, another the Holocaust, or line dancing. For several reasons, one to stave off death, perhaps another to meet other human beings of like interests (not yet), I offered a course in written expression. It is in my nature to be thorough, very prepared, over prepared, and to present not so much content which is easy for me, but to present myself as well, as a person, as a professional writer, as a giver, as someone who wishes at this stage in life, to quote Erik Erikson,  to be generative. I choose not to stagnate. I vampirically thrive on the interaction between students. All teachers do. Yet this has not been my experience; there are spatters of interest here and there in my class.

Five Wednesdays have come and gone as I am trying to palpate the soul of this class. Unfortunately in OLLI one can float in and out of a course, that is, sample another course, which is fine with me. I have done that. As an instructor, however, the experience is a labile one; excuses for not showing up abound, and at the age of sixty or more sometimes illness is a reason. I never ask for the reason. Consequently I can never count on a stable class to teach. I started with about 20 students and I am now down to perhaps seven or eight.  And I ask myself, as is my way, whether or not I am teaching over theirs heads, or I have bad breath or I am not teaching what they want if they really know what they want — I doubt that. I am at the point in which I will ask them if I am doing anything that has retarded their continuing the course. I open myself up to criticism, but I can handle that. The irony is that I don’t get paid for all this personal stress and course preparation. At times I walk out of class somewhat disheartened, but I catch myself.

While all this is going on I am listening to some of these retirees with a third ear and if some of them are onto me, the exercises provoke them into sharing who they are, I believe, in safe ways. If I ask them, to wit,  what city they are, and someone says Paris, I am on to that person. And I log that. The difficulty is that I struggle to listen while teaching, but I manage here and there with Tom, Ruth and Harry. I have some inklings of how they see me, often not in a flattering way, but strong ego that I am I go on for my credo is simple: “I hope for nothing. I fear nothing. I am free.” In short, I can walk away from this course as well as I walked into this course, freely. I know that I do not conform to the usual instructor. I am not the usual instructor. I am hitting them with everything I know from my armamentarium and this may be intimidating or frightening. I have sat in other classes and some are poorly taught and others aimless because the instructor knows nothing about presenting material.  Classes are taught from vanity, mine too.

And what I have also observed is that a few courses are rooted in entertainment. I don’t entertain. I also won’t tap dance. Stubborn, un-American me. Mea culpa, maybe I am too serious (I am not a somber personality) for a large majority of these retirees. Or, perhaps I don’t have the magic for this age group, from late fifties into the nineties . In any case the dwindling class population has made me resolve to ask them about this, those who show up next time, and to tell them that if the class falls below 7 students I will end it. Rule 32 for clients: Never put yourself in a punishing position. I will not endure a lack of interest and attendance.

One woman, bless her heart, after class last week expressed her warm satisfaction with how I was teaching the course, how she found it varied or different in a good way and it was the kind of remark you expect at the end of a term if you have done your job well. Another dropped out of the course because she wanted her way in presenting writing to the class and was not prepared for that when the day came. That I did not allow her to wing it and present her effort, for she had mucked up my teaching sequence, she left the class forever. Ah, boundaries. You can’t use boundaries with me. Oh, yes I can. She was a child. Another student presented a tender and sterling piece, the best so far. If only more students were there to have encouraged him!

By next Wednesday I will know if the course goes on or not.

 

 

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