a temple in Chiang Dao, Thailand
I had a dentist appointment today for my yearly cleaning. I went to a new dentist, and I went with pretty neutral expectations — after all, despite having never had a cavity, I’ve never found a dental cleaning to be a particularly uplifting experience (although I quite enjoyed getting a little plastic doohickey out of the “treasure chest” at my childhood dentist).
So, I walked into the dentist room with my neutral expectations, and from the very first moment, the dentist was really nice. I felt like I knew her already. She made me laugh when she was asking me “background” questions (and I mean genuinely laugh, not laughing-awkwardly-because-my-dentist-made-a-lame-dental-joke kinda laughing). She told me what she was going to do, and she told me what she expected. AND she didn’t make me feel guilty when I admitted to not flossing. When she asked me a question during the cleaning, she politely took the tools out of my mouth to give me the dignity of responding without grunting and drooling.
Now, not one of these things is particularly earth-shattering. In fact, they simply reflect the qualities of being nice and being polite — qualities, incidentally, which sound so bo-ring. But when we’re communicating with people (as we often do), it’s risky to underestimate the importance of delivery. Our initial chit-chat set the tone for the entire tooth-cleaning process, and made it that much easier for me to think it was the best dental cleaning I’d ever had.
You may have the best intentions in the world, but if your communication style is off, a lot of people will simply switch off. You might be excused if what you have to say is exceedingly funny or completely brilliant, but if you don’t make people feel good — whether that’s inspired, excited, warm and fuzzy, or loved — you just won’t stick.
I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.
(Maya Angelou says it best).
If the dentist was able to turn my neutral mood into a happy one, I think the possibilities are quite open with this one.
{ 6 comments… read them below or add one }
…….what you feel when you behold this temple – evergreen awe!
yes, it’s a gorgeous spot, not far from Chiang Mai!
Beautiful photo and an excellent post too. Eventually I may ask you for that dentist’s address!
Thank you, Elizabeth… it’d be great to meet you here
Okay, I was sort of thinking I shouldn’t pile on and respond to *every* post of yours I read this morning, but this is another great one.
It’s such a clear and understandable example of how adding some humanity to an unpleasant situation can make it tolerable, almost enjoyable, or vice versa.
And the Maya Angelou quote connects with lots I’ve been hearing lately about facts, stories, emotions and advocacy: that narrative has a greater effect on opinion than facts. I agree with that, but it is *so much* harder to do well, especially with a diverse audience, because it requires empathy.
Maybe the key is the approach your dentist took: focusing on what we share, evoking laughter, not inflicting guilt, removing tools to make it more comfortable for you to answer questions, etc.
Meanwhile, I’m pondering some dental tourism…
Matt, I drink up every comment you leave — and they’re often fuel for new musings and blog posts, so pile away : )
The place of narrative is something constantly lacing through my thoughts, so it’s interesting to see it in different places. But yes, the approach you described is excellent — a simple, literal breakdown of what happened. “Removing tools to make it more comfortable for you to answer questions”… I love how that works so well literally and figuratively.
{ 2 trackbacks }