I made a girl cry recently. I really didn't mean to - in fact, I was trying to elicit quite the opposite reaction, as I knew she was upset. So I reached out to her, put a supportive hand on her shoulder, and then I made the mistake.
I opened my mouth.
My well-meaning words unfortunately tipped her over the edge, as they brought the sadness to the surface again. Instead, the friendly touch had been just right, comforting her with a subtlety that didn't instantly call to mind the reality of her situation, but simply registered in one part of her brain that another human being cared about her, and was, quite literally, there for her.
We're often advised that we should read body language - watch out for signs of defensiveness, disinterest etc. and then react accordingly - and sure, we're in turn reminded to be aware of our own non-verbal cues, but it's usually about us monitoring and correcting our bodies in order to present in a certain way. What I'd like to suggest, dear reader, is that our bodies are quite often way ahead of us on this one.
Muscle memory is a well-known phenomenon. A few days after I made this poor girl cry I was idly recounting the situation one morning on my way to work when I suddenly noticed that I didn't quite recognise the particular residential street I was absentmindedly pedaling along. So convinced was I that I promptly turned back a street - and then got myself quite spectacularly lost. If I'd just carried on the way I was going I'd have realised I was indeed going the right way - such is the wonder of our internal auto-pilot.
British Telecom used to run an advert with the slogan, "Let your fingers do the talking." So my message today is that, big and powerful as they are, sometimes we should politely ask our brains to step aside, and instead listen to what our bodies have to say. We might just surprise ourselves.
