Messages don’t matter, only their delivery.
Alright Q-FI nation, it’s time to drop some wisdom that is more than obvious, but I feel that I need to point it out once again and devote this entire post to trying to make our country a better place. This nugget of priceless knowledge will solve probably 90% of the world’s problems, yet it is so glaringly evident, we constantly forget it and fall into our selfish habits.
Here we go:
The way we communicate is more important than what we are communicating. How we deliver a message, is more important than the content itself.
I cannot stress this enough. Yes, extremely simple, but much harder to realize in practice, because we are all human and want the world to operate by our understanding, beliefs and biases.
Wait, what? You disagree?
Let me give a very basic story to illustrate my point.
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The sun had set, and dusk was creeping in, shadows stirring awake like lost children giving life to the night.
We had just turned the street corner and I saw my dog’s favorite patch of grass that she loved to do her business on – that sanctified greenery almost glowing in an eclipse of molten silver from the overhead streetlamp, like a spotlight on a stage. Every pristine blade of grass standing tall and erect, as if guarding the ramparts of the emerald castle my dog was about to assault.
My wife and I were chatting, doing our nightly check-ins with each other as we walked the dogs, enjoying that mysterious ambience of twilight – that ultimate divide yet glue between the realms of light and dark. So, I wasn’t paying attention to my surroundings one bit when I felt that sudden jerk on the leash, and instantly knew what was about to happen.
I glanced over and saw my dog doing what was necessary, answering the call to nature like clockwork. And after a few more words shared between my wife and I, I walked over to that malachite turf and knelt down to clean up the mess.
However, sitting right next to it, which I had missed in the fading light, was the biggest mountain of dogshit I had ever seen. I mean, this thing was like Lincoln Logs you could build a cabin with. And I’ll be honest, this pile of shit was so large that it offended me. Who the fuck would just leave it here out in the open like this, I questioned? So, I did what any other respectable dog lover would do, I picked it all up with my own mess, which made me feel good about myself.
And I’ll be upfront, I sure as hell ain’t no saint. When there’s dog shit nearby, I try to clean up someone else’s mess more often than not. Nobody wants dog shit in their yard, or any yard for that matter. But am I actively looking to pick up every piece of poop I see, no, not at all. Like I said, sainthood is for other people.
Back to the story at hand…
It’s getting pretty dark now, but after collecting all of the necessary excrements, I glance up and see a trash can out on the curb nearby. Perfect, I think to myself. In spirits higher than a stoner on 4/20, I saunter over to that trash can and pull up the lid thinking: man does it feel good sometimes to do the right thing.
Then out of nowhere, a shrill voice pierces the night like a sword thrust:
“It’s a recycling bin, not trash!”
I freeze for a moment and wonder where in the world that grating voice had come from. It can’t be talking to me I surmise, but I swivel my head nonetheless because it was such a demeaning and patronizing tone.
And as I turn my head in a 180, I see him, a scrawny man no older than myself, staring at me from across the street. But no, not just staring, glaring murderous fucking daggers at me!
His ugly face was scrunched up in disgust, as if I were the devil incarnate emerging from the slums of hell and pure hatred read across his flushed countenance like an open book, all directed at me in a razor-sharp laser point of furrowed brows – good old-fashioned judgment sizzling.
Fuck, I thought. I could crack an egg on that guy’s forehead and cook it like a frying pan.
Yet, I couldn’t move as if mesmerized, still stunned and not understanding why such vehemence was being directed toward me.
Then his words circled back to me, like an incantation in my mind… “It’s a recycling bin, not trash…”
So I glanced down at the lid I had lifted in my hand, but I couldn’t make out the wording because the can’s lid was shrouded in shadows from a nearby tree. I squinted hard and finally made out the hidden white lettering: “RECYCLABLES ONLY.”
Then it dawned on me. He was talking to me. Holy fucking shit! All his ire and hatred wasn’t a mistake! It was directed at me with the full force of a firehose unleashed!
Had I assaulted this man in some past life? Stolen his children from their sleeping pillows? Seduced his wife like some loose Lothario? Abducted his cat and slashed his car tires?
No. I had no fucking clue who this arrogant prick standing across the street was? And all I had done was make the mistake of thinking a recycling can was a trash can. How innocent was that?
For a brief moment, a red violence flashed across my vision. I could feel my blood boiling and heart rate quickening. This guy had just signaled that it was time for war on the other side of the battlefield – clueless and smug like the little pecker I was about to pound into the pavement.
But then it passed.
Yet, his judgment and self-righteousness were so thick that it felt like a hand was reaching across the street to strangle me in its hold. Here I was, simply making the mistake of putting my dog crap in a recycle bin instead of the trash can, and on top of it, I had even picked up someone’s dog shit and was trying to do the right thing. But you know what hurt the most? That mother fucker was right. Not even partially right, he was 110% absolutely fucking right. I should not have been putting dog shit in a recycling trash can, even though I had been unaware of it.
But did I care at this point that he was right? FUCK NO! All I wanted to do now was walk across the street and punch him in his snotty face, find out where he lived and fill his own recycling bin full of dogshit all week. I know, I’m being extremely childish and petty. But that prick pissed me off. He looked like one of those people who took pleasure in ruining people’s days and I could tell just by sizing him up that humanity wouldn’t miss this little bitch at all. Hahaha, fucking people man.
So what did I do?
I stared the A-hole down, and then walked away. Yep, my fighting days are behind me. There were a million things I wanted to say, but I swallowed my pride and decided not to engage. It wasn’t worth it, and even though it stung, he was right. So, I kept my poop bag and joined my wife to continue our walk. There’d be other trash cans on our walk… and I’d live to see another day.
I know, a long-winded and puerile story. But here’s my point. I was entirely in the wrong, yet because of this guy’s reaction, it didn’t matter to me anymore. The way he communicated his thought to me closed me off and his message might as well have fallen on deaf ears.
I’ll say it again, messages don’t matter, only their delivery. Think about how you’re going to say something and how it might be interpreted before you do. And even more importantly, keep an open mind and listen. You won’t just be helping me out, you’ll be helping everyone out.
So, in this time of political angst and emotions running high, just remember one thing. It doesn’t matter what you say… it’s how you say it.
Only the delivery matters… and pick up your fucking dog shit… haha!
-Q-FI
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P.S. What do you think? Does only the delivery matter? Or when was the last time you had a great message or were right about something and fucked it up with a terrible or insensitive delivery? Because we sure as fuck aren’t all angels, or are we? Haha.
I must be missing this point because even though he delivered his message disagreeably, the fact is you still obeyed it. To me that says as long as your word is true then how you deliver it could be irrelevant? Also, was this a public trash can? Dropping anything in a private residence trash can is illegal without the owner‘s permission. Certainly if you want to make friends or influence someone, delivery is important, but if you just want to enforce the rule of law, it may not matter.
I love your comments Steveark because you come from the opposite spectrum of thought that I’m used to. You seem to have an amazing talent of analyzing things in a very literal sense, that my brain just doesn’t function that way. It’s a great reminder for me how different people’s perspectives can be.
Yes, the fact is that I personally did not put the dog shit in the recycling can. My main point is that I think there are a decent amount of people that would have given that guy the finger and thrown the crap in the recycling can just to piss him off – in my youth, I would have been that guy. Maybe not, but I’ve seen a lot of people do things whether right or wrong simply because someone was rude to them.
And yes again, this point cracked me up, it was a private trash can so I would have been breaking the law. However, I would rather have someone break the law and pick up their dog shit and throw it in my trash, rather than leave it in my yard because they are worried they might break the law by throwing it in my trash can. But that’s just me.
Good comment, you made me think on this one.
Did you just say, “Q-FI Nation?” Well, I’m in! This is an article that really made me think for a good bit of time.
I will still argue that the message is far superior to the delivery, although I also agree with the overarching point being made here. I (want to) believe that most folks are sophisticated enough to tune out the, ofttimes, flawed delivery mechanism and focus only on the message. I also believe that I am, usually, patently wrong about such things.
For me, after confronting him squarely and asking for his message again, I also (likely) would have demurred. However, I would have let him know that his delivery is an awesome way to get his house burned down and his tires slashed and his….
Which, of course, proves the point of the article. I also think my (non) argument here is tantamount to a snake devouring its tail. Anywho, I really enjoyed this one!
This is good. I think my opinion might be shifting a little here. Now I remain undecided. You’re the second one that picked the message over the delivery. But I’m still leaning toward if you have a bad delivery, no one will listen to the message.
I’m going to have to sit on this some more… haha. Good insights Mr. Fate!
Then again, maybe your delivery was inadvertently misinterpreted by the forces of nature. When you say private, was it his recycling bin? Perhaps if it wasn’t dusk and the shadows weren’t creeping in, you would have noticed this guy and kindly asked, “Do you mind if I use your trach can?” Perhaps your delivery was interpreted as “this guy thinks he can just dump go shit into my recycling bin without asking?” : )
But I agree. My knack for a smooth delivery is a skill that has probably gotten me farther than my college degree. Playing nicely with others is a good approach to getting business done.
I run unto poor delivery a lot in healthcare. Two patients (or even colleagues) can have the exact same complaint, but I will go the extra mile for someone who has the proper delivery.
Nice job cleaning up the extra pile by the way.
Max
What’s up Max and thanks for chiming in! So the recycling bin had nothing to do with this guy. He was just a neighbor across the street that shouted at me. If he had been close by I probably would have noticed him.
And I agree with you 100%, if someone is courteous, I’ll go the extra mile for them as well. There’s just something about treating people with a basic dignity that doesn’t seem to be as common nowadays.
i’ts all about the tone for me. it’s even more about the tone with the written word. i read some of this sanctimonious b.s. on blogs from time to time and it leads me to political rants of my own. i think “if you’re gonna say it THAT WAY then not only will i not support your ideas but i’ll also actively fight against them.” that’s how arrogant pricks lose regular decent people from their causes. i’ve said it in many forms but i can be any kind of neighbor and i try to be neutral at worst, but i can be the other kind too.
i’m with you that the dog crap goes into whichever bin is closest as long as the bin is near the curb. i don’t like people coming up my driveway near the house on non-trash pickup days. i don’t like to tempt any honest people by allowing them too close to the property. nice post.
I’m with you on tone Freddy, and I think especially on social media, that’s all that tends to matter. Even if I agree with someone’s point, but there’s a hint of self-righteousness bleeding through, then I’m out.
This can was on the street. I’m like you, I’d never walk onto someone’s property to throw anything away, but if it’s on the street, it’s fair game. I wouldn’t want someone else to do it in my yard, so I sure as hell don’t.
Hahaha… I love how you describe yourself as a neighbor. Good shit.
Ahh, so very true! I can think of countless times where someone’s delivery has either turned me for or against that person. First, thank you for cleaning up another dog’s mess! I do the same sometimes. Not that I like it, but it’s better than the alternative. Second, I relate.
Philly is nicknamed Filthadelphia for a reason. Apparently it’s nearly impossible for all my college-educated, allegedly pro-earth neighbors to secure their garbage properly because it winds up all over the streets and sidewalks every freaking week!!!! Well, I get fed up and pick up trash every time I walk my dog. One person had the gall to 1) complain because I wasn’t using a biodegradable bag to pick up trash, then 2) complain because I didn’t separate the trash into garbage and recyclables. Omg! I don’t carry a million bags on me and am not trying to keep the bag companies in business. Plus, I only have two hands and a dog to keep safe. The trash will wind up in the same bin regardless of who picks it up once it’s strewn all over the street. Or it goes down the gutters and blocks them. Either way, it needs to be removed, and I do my best to help. So having someone complain about my methods of cleaning up a mess that’s not mine week after week was not good. The delivery was worse. But I tuned her out and continued. But what a bunch of shit! And, no, I’ve never seen her cleaning up the garbage.
Hmmm…what a long rant. But, yes, delivery is essential, especially in this day of excessive outrage.
Hahahaha… that’s hilarious. Well, metaphorically hilarious… you probably weren’t cracking up when it was happening. But I mean, people Katie… people are just fucking crazy sometimes. I think when we hang out with normal people, we tend to forget how nuts and inconsiderate our human race can be.
And hey, rants always welcome… gotta let off that steam whenever and however you can.
BTW… you’re due for a new post lady. You got me used to a post every couple days and then you pull the rug out from under me. Haha… joking. Taking time for yourself is always best.
Thanks as always for chiming in.
Haha! I’m struggling with writing these days! But I’m trying. New post soon. Thank you for the kick in the ass and support! Nice job with consistency and quality, though!
Great post and nice writing style. Yes, delivery and response is so important. Being able to pause and collect yourself–like you did–makes all the difference in the world when communicating. After I read the book: “How to Win Friends and Influence People” I started a conscience effort to communicate as effectively as I could. In my line of work as a general contractor, every day I have to write emails or make calls trying to get grown grumpy men to do things they don’t want to do. “Please”, “Can”, and “Thanks” are magical words. Along with letting people know how they will ultimately benefit from requests.
I hate when people let their dogs shit wherever and don’t bother to clean it up. There’s a dog (neighbor) that regularly shits on my front lawn that I always have to end up cleaning up when it’s time to mow. It must happen when I’m at work because I haven’t caught the dog yet. I feel like saving up all this particular poop in a special bag just to be able to give it back to the owner when I find him/her.
Hey Noel – yeah, no better way to piss someone off than by leaving secret poop in your yard. One of my wife’s coworkers caught her neighbor on camera not picking up their dog shit in her yard at night multiple times. When she finally confronted the neighbor and asked them to please pick up after their dog, the neighbor lied and said it wasn’t them. Then she told them she has them on camera doing it multiple times. The neighbor went silent. It’s always interesting what people will do and claim when no one is looking.
I entirely endorse your method for communicating in a gracious manner. Yes, simple things like saying “please” and “thank you” can go such a long way in influencing people. I bet you’ve seen the immediate results with your clients.
Thanks for the comments!