Have you ever played out a conversation in your mind? You know. You have to talk with someone at work about an issue and you practice what you’ll say. You anticipate how he or she will respond. Then you think of what you’ll say next and so forth. Of course in real life the other person doesn’t always play his or her part the way you expected at all.
Or how about this one? You’re going to meet someone you admire so you try to think of something clever to say. Something memorable.
Or maybe you replay a verbal encounter you had with someone and think about all of the things you could have or should have said. You rewrite the dialogue in your head. You rewrite it to win your case or to make you look better.
We all do it. Some more than others.
|Tom Thought With His Head...|
I Tend to Think With My Heart
For example, when I had an idea about…well, anything…I would rehearse how to present it to Tom. You see, although Tom and I were pretty good at talking things through, I knew better than to suggest something in such a way as to elicit a yes or no response. He might say, “No” and that would be the end of it.
We thought differently. For a long time, I thought there was Tom’s way of thinking and the right way of thinking. He was always so logical.
His first responses came from the top of his head. Mine came from the bottom of my heart.
I’ve since learned that men simply think differently than women do –for the most part. I think God makes us that way so we can have some sort of balance in our problem solving. We need both ways.
Although we often found some middle ground, sometimes we went with Tom’s approach and other times we went with mine. In the end, everything seemed to work out fine.
I still have challenges. I have problems to solve and around-the-house items to fix. I find myself taking more time to figure things out. I try to think how Tom might respond to a problem or situation. I can almost hear the dialogue in my head.
And sometimes I still disagree with his approach. I do it my way. If it works, I’m in the clear. If it doesn’t I quickly backpedal and try it the way he would have done in the first place.
Perhaps one of the reasons I like writing is because I can create the dialogue I want without argument. My characters may act out or pose a differing viewpoint, but with a good strong flick of the pen I can generally bring them around to my way of thinking.
I’m grateful for Tom showing me a different way of seeing life. I trust that experience brings depth and a genuine feel to my characters. I’ve enjoyed a few good conversations with male friends since Tom died. Now I know to appreciate them –though I’ll likely still follow my heart in the end.