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...but not shut down important conversations
Yesterday, The New York Times featured an article on what to do when someone won’t stop talking. Most of us don’t need research to validate this—we’ve lived it. It happens in social settings where you find yourself trapped in a one-sided conversation, nodding politely while scanning the room for an exit. It happens at work, too—when a meeting becomes a monologue, input disappears, and people leave feeling frustrated, disengaged, or invisible. So what can you do in the moment? Writer Jancee Dunn offers a few simple—and surprisingly effective—ways to take back the conversation:
In group settings, especially at work, the stakes are higher. When one person dominates, the group loses. A few ways to redirect without escalating:
Even better—don’t wait until it happens. Build norms that prevent it. Here are some creative meeting agreements used by teams at companies like Amazon, Google, and Apple include:
And sometimes, the lesson hits closer to home. Recently, I was co-presenting a virtual session with two other facilitators. I was in the flow—locked into my content—and completely missed the cues around me. When I finally looked up, I saw it: panic on their faces. I had gone well over my time. That moment stuck with me. Since then, I’ve made a few changes: building in intentional pauses, adding time markers to my notes, and—most importantly—looking up more often to read the room. Because monopolizing isn’t always about ego. Sometimes it’s about momentum, anxiety, or losing awareness. And that’s the real takeaway: We will all encounter the “talker.” And at times, we will be the talker. The goal isn’t perfection—it’s awareness, adjustment, and creating space where conversations become shared, not dominated.
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Rethinking Productivity and the Monday Myth
I’m fortunate to have a home office for projects, administrative work and preparation for meeting with clients. While some of my clients join me virtually, most of our work happens in person or in neutral spaces—and those interactions energize me. But Mondays? They’re not my most creative or productive days. And it turns out, I’m not alone. A 2023 Forbes article—based on hybrid workplace data—found that many workers report Mondays as their least productive day. It makes sense. We often need a transition from weekend to work mode. Knowing this about myself, I’ve built a system that keeps me moving forward—even when motivation is low. First, I rely heavily on my calendar. Weekly tasks (like this blog) are scheduled on repeat. And I’ll admit—an unchecked box on my to-do list is all the motivation I need. I don’t like leaving things unfinished. Second, when I have a deadline-driven project, I get up early, grab a cup of coffee, eliminate distractions, and focus deeply for a few hours. That concentrated time allows me to step away later—whether for a walk or the gym—without guilt. I’ve also learned to align my schedule with my energy. Mondays are best for client meetings when possible. And when it’s a no client, low energy Monday? I practice self-forgiveness. If I only have two solid hours in me, that’s okay—because I know that on another day, I might hit a 12-hour stride. Those are the days I find “flow.” And there’s nothing better. The reality is, we all have different rhythms, motivators, and capacities. And those differences can create friction in the workplace—across teams, generations, and organizational expectations. The same Forbes article suggests:
At the same time, hybrid work continues to evolve—shaped by both necessity and policy. For some, it’s a benefit. For others, it’s essential. So here’s the bigger question: What does it really mean to create a flexible, inclusive workplace? Do we pass on the most qualified candidate because they need a hybrid schedule to support their family? Can two high-performing employees share one full-time role? Are we designing systems that support autonomy—or forcing productivity into a one-size-fits-all model? Because when people are supported in how they work best, they show up differently. And yes—I'm writing this on a Monday, after 3:00 p.m. Not my peak time. But I’ve been thinking about this topic all day. And now, it’s done--a full day before my deadline. That checked box? Still incredibly motivating. So I’ll leave you with this: What’s your go-to strategy when you have to show up—but just aren’t feeling it? Have you ever encountered someone at a gathering or in the office who launches into a negative monologue? Or someone who, despite your attempts at conversation, only wants to complain?
I recently spent time with an acquaintance who loves to talk about themselves. It left me with the impression that they are clearly their favorite subject and feel the need to be the most interesting person in the room. There was also an undercurrent of negativity—as if someone else had to be diminished in order for them to feel elevated. I found myself both unacknowledged and the target of subtle put-downs. I did my best to show interest in some of their topics, ask follow-up questions, and occasionally offer my own viewpoint. I tried not to hijack the conversation or make it about me. I tried to be polite, respectful, and patient. But it was exhausting. Kahlil Gibran, in The Prophet, reflects on talking: “There are those among you who seek the talkative through fear of being alone. The silence of aloneness reveals to their eyes their naked selves and they would escape. And there are those who talk, and without knowledge of forethought reveal a truth which they themselves do not understand. And there are those who have the truth within them, but they tell it not in words.” Most of us carry some level of unresolved trauma—moments in life when we felt unseen, unworthy, uninteresting, or unqualified. When negativity spills out in conversation (or in a monologue), it often reveals more about the speaker’s internal world than the subject they are discussing. The longer someone stays inside that negativity bubble, the less aware they become of their impact. Logic quietly leaves the building, and emotion takes the microphone. As the recipient—or sometimes the unwitting target—our choices in the moment are limited. We can listen. We can be silent. And we can set boundaries around how much time and energy we are willing to give. If we choose to move into a more active listening role, we can also name what we observe, describe how it impacts us, and make a request of the other person. Sometimes this reflection allows the speaker to see themselves as others are experiencing them. It disrupts the pattern and gently calls attention to what is happening. In the case of my acquaintance, this person spent many years feeling unconfident and undervalued. In their effort to become who they want to be now, they may be overcompensating—unaware of how their words land on others. Instead of creating space for silence and meaningful dialogue, they fill the space with commentary, criticism, and self-promotion. Unfortunately, talking does not equal confidence. Confidence is often quieter. It shows up in reflection, self-awareness, and thoughtful communication. And sometimes the most confident thing we can do…is allow silence to speak. Seeing Conflict from the Other Side
As a mediator, one strategy I coach my clients to practice is putting themselves in the shoes of the other person. This involves brainstorming what the other person’s values and needs might be, what goals they hold for themselves, the relationship, and the resolution of the conflict. In essence, I’m asking my clients to pivot—to step outside of their own perspective and briefly step into the perspective of their conflict partner. Anyone who has participated in a debate understands the value of studying the other side. A strong debate is not won simply by presenting your own argument well; it also requires understanding the views, data, and emotions that support the opposing position. Successful preparation includes researching not only your side of the issue, but also anticipating the arguments the other team will bring. I have often found that arguing the less popular side of a topic—sometimes one I personally disagree with—actually makes me a stronger debater. It forces me to dig deeper into perspectives I might otherwise dismiss. By doing so, I become more informed and more thoughtful in both my presentation and rebuttal. Interestingly, when audiences or judges are strongly aligned with the more popular view, challenging that perspective can provoke a surprising amount of emotion. The better prepared I am to present the opposing side, the more it can unsettle the room. It is a curious juxtaposition: thoughtful disagreement can feel threatening when people are deeply invested in their perspective. In the workplace, differences in life experience, communication styles, and beliefs can easily create friction between colleagues. We may feel threatened by the other. The pivot approach mirrors the preparation used in debate. As a conflict coach, I support clients using a proven approach developed by Cinnie Noble, the creator of the CINERGY model. Through a one-on-one coaching process, clients explore the sources of conflict, identify their own needs and contributions to the situation, and then practice pivoting to consider the perspective of their conflict partner. In debate terms, if you are preparing the “pro” argument, conflict coaching asks you to thoughtfully explore the “con.” This process can be used on its own or as preparation for mediation or facilitation. The pivot allows us to pause, take a breath, and approach conflict with curiosity. Just as in debate, the more we understand about the other person’s perspective, the more effective we can be in what we share and how we respond. It also allows us to test assumptions, discover common ground, and build solutions that create a stronger path forward. When we step out of our own story and into someone else’s, conflict often shifts from a battle to a conversation. Do We Ever Really Understand Each Other?
Sometimes our greatest “aha” moments come from unexpected places. In my last blog, I wrote about the value of book clubs. It was in a work of fiction that I recently experienced one of those personal insights. As we move through life with family members, friends, and colleagues, some relationships hold a deep sense of mutual understanding. Others operate on autopilot—we go through the motions without ever truly seeing the person in front of us. According to Merriam-Webster, to understand is to grasp meaning, comprehend someone’s feelings or situation, or have a clear interpretation of what is being communicated. If understanding includes comprehending another’s feelings or experience, then it requires action. We build understanding by asking thoughtful questions, listening to comprehend rather than respond, and keeping the focus on the other person rather than ourselves. When we believe we understand, we can summarize what we’ve heard and create space for agreement, clarification, or correction. In the novel I read, the protagonist struggled with her mother for years. It wasn’t until a third party intervened that they realized the true source of their rift: they had never taken the time to genuinely understand one another. Assumptions had quietly shaped their story. Hurt feelings hardened into distance. When they finally “ripped off the bandage” and acknowledged their mutual pain, they began to see each other—not as caricatures built from assumptions, but as complex individuals with their own needs and fears. From there, deeper and more meaningful conversations became possible. Though fictional, the lesson resonates deeply. I see it often in the mediation room. What is initially labeled as “difficult behavior” begins to soften when people explore both impact and intent—when they share the values, needs, and experiences underneath their reactions. As shared understanding grows, defensiveness often gives way to curiosity. We thrive in our individuality. We want to be seen and accepted for who we are, not who others assume us to be. And while our uniqueness matters, so do our commonalities. Understanding lives in that space—where individuality and shared humanity meet. Perhaps the question is not whether we can ever fully understand each other. Perhaps it is whether we are willing to slow down enough to try. |
Sunny Sassaman
Sharing experiences and insights of reflection and conflict management techniques. Archives
May 2026
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