The Lost Art of Communication
It started with a surprise. On a recent evening, I found myself at ZenLife Healing Center in Queen Creek, Arizona, sitting cross-legged on a bolster, my ankles resting on a Mexican blanket, surrounded by others in a class called “Middle Road.” I had no idea what to expect, but what unfolded was both enlightening and profound.
The owners, Chris and Melissa, shared a communication technique that would challenge how I think about human interaction. As we paired up to practice, I began to realize just how much our daily lives have shifted away from genuine human connection.
Consider your typical day. You wake up and immediately reach for your phone—texts, emails, social media. Your first interactions of the day are through written words on a screen. Maybe you exchange brief words with family before heading to work, where you spend hours communicating through instant messages and emails. Lunch might offer a chance for real conversation, or it might be another solitary moment in your day.
The commute home becomes an exercise in silent judgment of other drivers. A stop at the grocery store presents minimal human interaction—perhaps a brief exchange with a cashier, or none at all if you choose self-checkout. Even dinner time, traditionally a moment for family connection, often becomes a silent affair with everyone absorbed in their devices, physically present but mentally elsewhere.
As our daily human interactions diminish, we lose something vital. We’re missing out on the benefits of genuine human connection: self-worth, feeling seen, feeling heard, feeling validated. Our very cellular structure responds to human interaction—it lights us up in ways we’re only beginning to understand.
Think back to a truly engaging conversation you’ve had—a moment when you felt completely seen and heard. When your words didn’t just bounce off the other person but were truly received. Remember how that felt?
Now compare that to our typical daily interactions. Often, they’re just exchanges of complaints: one person shares a grievance, the other responds with their own, creating a spiral of negativity where neither party truly listens to the other.
But what if we approached communication differently? What if, when sharing something—whether a complaint or a joy—we paused to notice how our body felt in that moment? Perhaps sensing a tightness in our chest or a lightness in our shoulders. And what if the listener responded not with their own story, but with genuine reflection: “When I hear that, I feel…” or “When I hear that, I notice…”
This kind of dialogue creates a deeper connection. Yes, it requires vulnerability, which might feel frightening at first. It’s different from our usual way of communicating. But when you experience it, something remarkable happens. You build a connection that makes you yearn for more. At least, that was my experience.
In that class, I felt truly seen and heard. I received information in a non-threatening way that didn’t trigger my defenses. I could genuinely appreciate the other person’s perspective and understand how my words affected them. They, in turn, could understand me better.
Had I seen “Middle Road” on the class calendar, I probably wouldn’t have attended. But following that inner nudge led me to an experience that will stay with me forever. I gained not just a tool for better communication, but a new awareness of how I interact with others.
Now, I’m excited to implement this practice in my daily life. Each interaction becomes an opportunity to help another soul feel heard and seen. This technique, based on a practice called Circling, is taught monthly at ZenLife Healing Center in Queen Creek.
In a world where genuine human connection becomes increasingly rare, perhaps it’s time we all learned to listen more deeply and speak more authentically. After all, isn’t that what being human is all about?
