[Lack of] The Art of Communication

My family is notorious for speaking before thinking. I too, as my friends with undoubtedly admit, am guilty of it as well. I think humans in general do it constantly. However, my family sure does seem to make a hobby of this not-so-eloquent approach to communicating how they feel about something or someone.

The linage of my life in the ill-communicable Watkins family has a long standing history. I constantly posses traits that help me remember where I come from. If my facial-features and mannerisms aren't enough to give proof of what family I am a descendent of, than my bad habits would also indicate where my heritage lies for sure. Lack of communication is just one of these.

I suppose I could start just by blaming my parents. After all, they were the models for which I learned the good and the bad things. I learned to be sensitive, civil, selfless, polite, respectful, and to care for other people rather than just having concern for myself. Yet, I also learned about things like hypocrisy and making bad decisions--we all did didn’t we? I mean after all, our parents, relatives, and guardians were our whole world for the longest time. But, we cannot hold them guilty for their mistakes because we certainly commit our own faults each day. This touches me and helps me think on what I need to do. Not only as a Christian, but also as a citizen in the free world, I ought to strive to be accountable for my own actions; whether rewards or consequences are imminent.

While at home for Thanksgiving, I have realized more about my family in just a few short days than in recent years of observation. Not only does my family speak before thinking, but they have a hard time conveying just what they feel. It’s not that we can’t say, “I love you” or “what is bothering you?”. We just all seem to want to backbite before confronting each other when we have problems with one another.

This disposition that I was seemingly predisposed to is quite annoying. I can recount the younger days of past and see where this infraction in our daily lives has come into play quite frequently. I look back and think just about myself. I try to remember why I didn’t just tell my Dad I was upset with a decision he made. Instead, I would go cry to my Mom. The same for when my Dad is mad at me for something I’ve done. He now basically does the same thing I would do (without the crying). Why do we do this? I guess it just takes practice and a little heredity.

The avenue I must now pursue is the one of intention, rather than passing the blame. I really need to stand up and admit to my family, friends, and myself when I am the one in error. However, it won’t be easy if I change and see that my family is not on the same path. Maybe I can be more helpful and just ask someone if they are mad at me when they appear to be. This morning, my Dad wasn’t saying much. So, I just asked him if he was mad at me. He said he just had a lot on his mind and he would tell me if he was upset with me. It made me feel better to know how he really felt, instead of just playing the usual game of assumption. Maybe our world would be a better place if we would all just speak our minds a little more about things other than film, music, trends, or politics. Maybe if we would just be honest with each other. Perhaps that would help us learn to love and trust one another.