Contentious discussions can be stressful for the best of us. Some people are formally schooled in the art of debate, and I am not one of them, so often I blamed my discomfort in confrontation or extended debate on the fact that I really wasn’t sure how to do it properly.

Even watching debates online between other people makes me cringe. (At some point I realized that it was more because those ended up being mud-slinging, juvenile name calling fests more often than actual discussions or intelligent debates about valuable topics. But I digress.)

I thought something was wrong with me because I didn’t want to dive into the fray and start some kind of argument or throw myself straight into the middle of a heated debate or discussion. It also crept into my personal life, because discussions that were…uncomfortable often led me to be much more upset than the topic itself actually warranted. And for the life of me I couldn’t figure out why.

Then it hit me one day.

I can’t remember what prompted the introspection, but it struck me hard and has stuck with me ever since. And as a result, it’s actually made me much more effective in my writing, my work, and it’s making me much less panicky when I find myself in a discussion that’s uncomfortable or difficult. I’m not perfect at it yet, but the awareness of it helps. My breakthrough?

I need time to process things. Sometimes a lot of time. And I need to ask for that time or take it for myself.

Sometimes, what bothers me is that something bothers me, but I can’t figure out what it is. That gnawing, back-of-your-mind feeling that comes with feeling something askew but not being able to put your finger on it. And in the midst of a discussion with someone, you can feel a bit like an ass when you say “you know, something about this isn’t sitting well with me, and I need some time to think about what that is or why.”

Especially when tweets are flying or the Facebook or blog comments are piling up, and I promise you text is your (read: my) worst enemy because it lacks every bit of the body language and facial expression that comes with talking with someone in person. It’s also the time when real-time works against you, because it implies a certain pressure to think and respond now, not later once you’ve taken some time to think.

The internet especially is fraught with quips and witty retorts and know-it-alls that have the answer to everything in a given moment. It can make you feel a bit like if you don’t have an instant answer, you’re slow on the uptake somehow.

The truth is, though, when I practice slow thinking, it makes all the difference.

The issue at hand can be the answer to a business problem, or figuring out my stance on a political or social issue, or understanding the reason why something someone said or did hurt my feelings personally.

Reflection itself has a few benefits, from cool-off time to the ability to let thing sit and process for a while, like steeping tea leaves. Sometimes I notice something I didn’t before. I notice that I didn’t say something or make myself clear enough, something that might have made the conversation easier, and I know to be more articulate and specific next time.

Other times I can spend slow thinking time gathering more information to help guide my thinking (and therefore realize where the gaps are in my knowledge or facts), which in turn helps me ask better questions. Once in a while, I realize that I was bothered by something or confused by it or sidetracked simply because I was short on sleep, or distracted by something else, or not in the right frame of mind to think through everything in that moment.

In short, my epiphany was that I need to think more slowly sometimes, not more quickly. And that I’m often better off, better educated, and more open to information, input, and alternative knowledge when I step back, think slowly, and breathe.

Small thing, but big impact for me. Maybe it’ll help you, too.

A post from Brass Tack Thinking
The Power of Slow Thinking

The receipt of attention is earned, both initially to capture it, and continually to keep it. No one is entitled to it, ever.

The online experience you immerse yourself in is, to a large degree, under your control. You can give your attention easily with a click, and add information to the stream you take in. But never forget that you can remove it as easily, and sometimes you absolutely should.

I’m not a fan of the piling-on, lynch mob tactics that seem to be doled out as routine punishment for online misbehavior. I’m also not particularly a fan of the public announcement that you’re no longer a follower of so-and-so. Sometimes I suppose it’s beneficial to let someone know that you see what misbehavior they’re up to, or why they’ve lost your interest. But I think those occasions are few and far between (like, say, gross breaches of ethics or the law), and are much more likely to make us look as much like the jerks we’re trying to “call out”.

By contrast, quiet removal of attention can have several benefits. For your own sake, it’s one less fly in the online ointment to make your experience on the web shaded with unnecessarily upsetting or irritating things. Collectively, we can make an awful lot of impact by simply removing our attention without saying a word. Malicious malcontents and consistent jerkbags without audiences to feed their antics are as useless as a two-legged stool.

There is so much good information on the web. So many good, interesting people with outstanding ideas. So many causes to support. So much to learn and enjoy and entertain you.

Why would you spend one more second of your time – the one non-renewable resource that you always wish you had more of – on someone or something that doesn’t continually remind you why you spend it there?

Now before you give me the bit about having too much homogeny and groupthink in your stream if you only follow people that agree with you…

There’s not one shred of this post that says you should surround yourself with only people that think the way you do. But you can have diversity of thought, even disagreement, that can be unabashedly awesome. Uncomfortable, maybe, but in the way that your muscles hurt so good after a workout. You shouldn’t walk away from anyone or anything repeatedly feeling like garbage. It’s possible to disagree with someone, step way outside your comfort zone, and still have it actually be a rewarding experience.

Your line is almost certainly different than mine, which is fine. But do have one. Respect your own time as you would insist that someone else to respect it. Click unfollow. Unsubscribe. Unfriend. Edit relentlessly, and constantly as your interests and experiences change. Your criteria can evolve, but the ultimate accountability for the quality of your online experience will always be yours alone.

Take back your attention, and allow it to once again be focused in the places that enrich you. If we’re ever to really realize the potential of what the web has brought us, how we continue to bestow and devote our precious attention makes all the difference in the world.

A post from Brass Tack Thinking
Take Back Your Attention

You’re starting a business. Getting a promotion. Having a baby. Traveling around the world. Getting married. Moving in with your boy/girl/personfriend. Pursuing a new hobby, fitness regime, eating program, parenting approach. Proclaiming your love for a new band you’ve discovered. Sharing a blog post you’re proud of. Whatever. Fill in the blank, from the mundane to the life-changing.

You know him or her. The person who says, in response to your news and often unsolicited:

“That’s great! But …”

• Here’s what I know that you should know
• Here’s how I did it too/better/more awesomely
• Here’s you ought to look out for
• Here’s why that’s too risky/not risky enough
• Been there, done that.
• Here’s how many people have tried that and failed

You get the drift.

I won’t negate the possibility that there are mostly well-meaning people out there who will tell you that their input is meant to be supportive, or helpful, or otherwise provide guidance and advice that they themselves may have found valuable once upon a time. We are humans that do thrive on affinity and find connection in shared experiences, too, in our similarities as much as our differences. That’s true enough.

We share news and adventures and discoveries with the world for a bunch of reasons. We’re proud. We want to celebrate. We want to share something that’s new and exciting to us in hopes that more people will find joy in it, too. We want to show people what’s possible. Sure, maybe we even crave a bit of affirmation and support.

The difficulty is that many people don’t have a clue how to be genuinely happy for someone else, or encourage them in an important moment without forcing in their personal commentary, opinion, or self-doubt.

It’s also true that many people warn others off – consciously or otherwise – using precisely the reasons that have scared them away from doing something that they wanted to do, or prevented them from pursuing or enjoying something of their own.

I’m guilty, too. I’ve certainly done my fair share of “That’s awesome, now let me tell you my experience”s in the past without being asked. I’ve even let my own fear of a thing tumble out in a string of words warning someone off about that thing. Shame on me, right? I’m not particularly proud of that, and when I noticed how much it hurt when people did it to me, I became so much more conscious of how and when I do it to others.

The truest definition of grace is being able to look at someone over there – doing something you want to do, feeling something you want to feel, having something you want to have – and finding happiness for their sake. Without caveats.

Behind every “should”, “ought”, “need to”, there is judgment. Behind every “Oh yeah? Here’s MY story” is the need for a bit of attention in the midst of someone else’s moment. The me-too/one-up can be well-intended (look at us having something in common!) but requires deftness and true humility to be executed well while still supporting the person in question. More often, it backfires. The tricky part?

The Killjoy can be right in the mirror.

If you’re on the other end of a statements like these,  you might feel slighted or deflated, even hurt. Doubtful of your decision to share. Wondering who and what you should listen to, and when. Letting other people instill doubt in you is like a virus. It feeds on itself. Likewise with letting someone’s momentary self-centeredness derail you from a happy moment or a decision that’s important to you.

The most graceful reply you can offer is simply “Thank you so much for sharing your point of view.” With a smile. And move on. Most people mean well, or will tell you they do, and you can leave them with the benefit of the doubt for that.

But don’t give in to the Killjoy.

He’s unkind in the moments when we need to enjoy our own promise, hope, success, and happiness. We need our own joy and ideas of what could be to fuel our determination when things are bumpy. We also need to trust our own intuition sometimes and be our own champions.

I’ve learned that the greatest – and sometimes most difficult – gift that I can give to myself is to actually be happy. The greatest gift you can give someone is likely to see them happy, and be happy for them. Grace is not an easy thing, or we would all demonstrate it effortlessly. But the Killjoy can really take the wind out of someone’s sails when they need it most. Let’s make each other a promise that we’ll work hard not to be one.

Deal?

A post from Brass Tack Thinking
Thwarting the Killjoy