I have a very hard time slowing down when I speak, especially when I am excited or passionate about something. An example of this is when helping my wife with a project by first explaining the process to her. As a self-proclaimed Know-It-All, that’s what I do…I explain things. Unfortunately, I speak like I am from New York (I am not) and she listens like she is from Texas (she is not).

Oh, and caffeine is routinely coursing through my veins most hours of the day, compounding the cadence problem.

“Honey, when you change the TV hookup from the DVD player to the Amazon Fire Stick you have to unplug the cable from HDMI 1 and replace it with the Fire Stick, being sure to change the television input from Satellite to HDMI 1, and if it doesn’t work check to see that the Fire Stick is plugged into the outlet. It has to be getting power for it to work, Honey. The Fire Stick remote is separate and should not be confused with the TV remote, the satellite remote, or the DVD player remote… What do you mean you will just rent a Redbox movie instead?”

I also have a hard time slowing down when I listen. I have this irritatingly rude (rudely irritating?) habit of jumping in to fill any void in the conversation…the proverbial “pregnant pause”…rationalizing that after 3 seconds of dead air (which seems like 30 to me), it must be my turn to say something. Without fail, when I do start to reply, my wife will quickly reprimand me by saying she wasn’t finished and to stop interrupting her (God bless Texas).

Sometimes, I say things out of habit without really listening. When I sneeze, for example, I may assume that whoever is with me will automatically reply with “Bless You” or “God Bless You” (depending on whether we are in Las Vegas or the Ozarks at the time). I often follow my sneeze with an immediate “Thank you,” regardless of whether or not I was blessed.

Even while hiking solo (something I enjoy doing frequently), should I happen to sneeze, I have been known to follow it with an audible (i.e., out loud) “Thank you,” merely out of habit. No other human being within 2 miles of me, yet I will still thank that imaginary hiking buddy for blessing my sneeze (did I mention I don’t listen?).

I might part ways with someone by saying, “Have a great day,” expecting the other person to say it back. Without even listening for a reply, however, I follow this with “Thank you,” assuming the other person did, in fact, say it back to me. Of course, sometimes they do, but other times they might instead say, “Thank you,” or “I will.” Sometimes, they don’t say anything at all. Regardless, as if my ears have simply failed me, I still often follow my own comment with a “Thank you.”

If I would learn to slow down and become more contemplative, I could actually “be in the moment” and focus on what is being said to me, instead of being alone in my mental world (a very scary place…a story for another day) and miss the opportunity to engage in meaningful dialogue. Absent a two-way conversation, aren’t I really just in the middle of a monologue?