What Is Left When We Leave the Room, by Nancy Dorrier

What is left of us when we leave the room, leave the call, leave the house, leave the party, and, of course, leave ultimately? 

Perhaps our conversations--what we talked about and what we listened to.

Plain and simple.

What were we building on those empty lots of time?

The weather was too hot and the traffic too much and parking places too hard to find. Were those worth the real estate they occupied?

We have this moment, this precious moment, so tell me what you love about your life, what you love about your work, and what matters to you.

Tell me about Billy Collins or Bruce Springsteen or Maya Angelou, who said, People don’t remember what you said; they remember who they were in your presence.

Do people get bigger and brighter or smaller and duller around you?

Make a list: Whom do you talk to and what you talk about? That’s the baseline.

Make a second list: What could you talk about with them that you aren’t now? And what could you ask them about?

Take a break and make another list:  To whom are you not now talking--including people you haven’t met--that you could talk to, and what would you talk to them about? And what would you ask them about?

People are relieved to let go of conversations about the traffic and weather.

They remember what you say about your projects and dreams and want to participate.

They want to share about their projects and dreams and see them become more real in your listening.

What will you leave behind?