Lifestyle

Last winter while my husband and I were traveling to Florida for business, we found ourselves in front of our hotel, sitting on the only bench to be found, trying to soak up some desperately-missed rays of sun.

We sat there feeling a little silly watching people come and go from the hotel while we enjoyed a cold drink and pretended we were sitting next to a luxurious pool. The longer we sat, the friendlier we became to the hotel guests as they were coming and going. After about a half an hour, my husband noticed a man wearing a t-shirt that interested him and struck up a conversation with him. A few minutes later, his wife walked out of the hotel and briefly joined the friendly conversation before walking over to their vehicle, parked only a few steps away.

After what seemed to be only seconds of her reaching the vehicle, she grumbled to her husband in a loud unpleased voice, “Why haven’t you unlocked the car?” Surprised by her grumpy tone, we stopped the conversation as he pulled the remote key out of his pocket and silently unlocked the door. He calmly continued talking for a few more minutes before he joined her in the car.

After they left in their vehicle, I asked Del if he noticed the change of tone she used when talking to her husband about unlocking the door. He said, “Yes, it was like a warm day had suddenly turned ice cold.” We talked about how easy it is to say something without really realizing how you sound; which we knew we were both guilty of from time to time.

A few days after that event I asked my husband to make a call for me, and he did not do it as quickly as I wanted. I found myself using the same loud, grumpy, unpleasant tone I had heard come out of that lady as I said, “Just call him!” I looked up and saw our waitress standing in front of me, with the same look I gave to the unpleasant lady a few days before. The tone I used now matched the unpleasant taste I had in my mouth because I had reacted so harshly to something so trivial. It sometimes feels like my three-year-old self reappears and takes over my mind and mouth.

I am happy to report that, after noticing my own bad behavior, it has been fairly simple to correct those occasional bursts of what I like to call “my terrible-tone tantrums.” I have come to the conclusion that we can tell people pretty much anything, but what really matters is how we tell them that anything. Put yourself to a tone test, and see how you do on a daily basis. If you need a little work, as I did, and want to change it, once you make a commitment to correct tone mistakes, you’ll be much less likely to do it in the future. Experiencing their positive response, you’ll say to yourself, “I think they can hear me now,” proudly!

Live beautifully inside and out!