Communication is fascinating, layered, and let’s be honest, sometimes frustrating. We speak to be heard. We listen to understand. Or at least, that’s the goal. When two people engage in a conversation, the shared hope is simple: “Please understand me the way I mean it.” Yet meaning gets tangled. Words land wrong. Tone stings. Boundaries blur. Feelings bruise. And before we know it, one person shuts down emotionally, creating a roadblock taller than any explanation can climb.
That was the crossroads I found myself at this morning.
I was seated at my dining table, laptop open, thoughts flowing, sunlight filtering through my large French window. Across the lawn, life was moving at its own pace, until a soccer ball rolled into my yard. I shifted my gaze from the screen. A scene caught my attention. Two kids, a boy and a girl, were kicking and tossing a ball toward a tree. Beneath that tree sat a parked car, my neighbor’s car.
Then came the realization. The thumping sound I had brushed off earlier? It wasn’t a loose gate. The soccer ball was dropping directly onto that parked vehicle. Again and again. And nearby, an adult stood watching it happen. Silent. Unbothered.
When he noticed me by the window, he asked for permission to walk onto my lawn to retrieve the ball. This wasn’t the first incident involving the little boy. He had been caught on camera before, throwing stones at my wall.
A part of me wanted to step outside and speak up. To warn, to reason, maybe even to appeal to responsibility. But another part of me paused. What if the adult wasn’t in the right frame to receive it? What if my concern was mistaken for confrontation? What if my words triggered defense instead of dialogue?
Communication only works when both people are open, receptive to hearing, understanding, and responding without shutting down. And I wasn’t sure we would meet in that shared openness. So I stayed inside. I kept watching. Until the adult finally looked up, noticed me, grew uneasy, and called the children inside.
And yes, maybe I should have said something. But not every conversation has fertile soil. Some seeds of dialogue fall on hard ground, and no matter how well-intentioned, they never take root.
The same truth applies beyond soccer balls and stone-throwing. In friendships. In relationships. In partnerships. In all the ships we sail in life.
The art of communication requires more than words; it requires willingness. Reciprocity. Emotional availability. The humility to listen without bruising. And the courage to respond with the goal of resolution, not victory.
I could be wrong, though. That’s the beauty, and the risk of human interaction.
So, I ask you: What are your thoughts?
Have you ever held back from speaking because you sensed the other person wasn’t ready to hear? And when is the right moment to push past silence and speak anyway?
Let’s talk about it in the comments.
thatafricangurl 