Slow Talker

An ex-girlfriend once said to me that my voice makes her want to lie down.

(I guess that can be taken several ways.)

From what I can tell, she meant my voice relaxes her.

Total compliment.

But there are drawbacks to eliciting relaxation. I notice sometimes when I talk to people, they’ll yawn. Sometimes two or three times, like they can’t help it. Or, they’ll settle back into their chairs, like they know it’s gonna be a while.

Admittedly the yawns are hard to take but I can’t blame the yawners; when I watch videos of myself, my first thought is, “Wow! That boy talks slow!”

Ah well. That’s me.

I’m in no hurry. I cherish questions like I enjoy dessert. I love choices. I love resting in the space of decision-making, whether mine or other peoples’. My feet are always up. I’m the last to leave.

I’ve learned to enjoy the visual and aural cues of relaxation. They show up everywhere in my life.

The relaxation mascot!

I was on the phone with a silverware company ordering more spoons… (Where do the spoons go, anyway? With the lost socks, I suppose. Sorry, another post.)

The woman on the phone, Canadian I believe; she answered diligently. “Thank you, sir” and “One moment Mr. Flamer” and all that. But by the end of the call, she’d dropped the last consonants from all her words and replaced platitudes with colloquialisms

“I get that” and “Totally.”

Another success!

I could hear her chair creaking as she leaned back and told me about the call before mine.

That’s what I do: lean people back in their office chairs, or better yet, take them out of the chairs and put them on a chaise lounge. At the beach. With an umbrella drink.

My voice sets you on vacation or at least takes you into the weekend, a little sunshine on your face in the middle of the day, your tired toes in the sand.

Such a better place to be.

I guess that’s worth the yawns.