We Didn’t Ski One Day
By Leslie Sann
In the absence of information, we make things up.
– Julio Olalla
Two people. One message.
Multiple interpretations.
That’s where this story begins.
My sister was telling me about her ski trip. She mentioned the snow was just okay and added, We didn’t ski one day.
I thought she meant they didn’t ski the whole trip, as in, we went away and didn’t ski one day.
I made up a story: the snow must’ve been bad, icy, no fun, so they skipped skiing altogether.
What she, in fact, meant was that they skied every day except one.
She was talking. I was listening.
I even thought I was listening carefully.
Yet something didn’t add up. The rest of her story didn’t match the meaning I had assigned.
So I paused and asked her to clarify.
And sure enough, what she meant wasn’t what I had imagined.
Have you ever had that experience?
Of course you have. We all have.
It happens—a lot.
Here’s a short poem that captures the essence of what occurs:
The siren sounded
The dishwasher broke
The siren broke the dishwasher
We’re meaning-making machines.
We interpret, assume, conclude, and build entire realities — often without realizing we’re doing it.
We believe what we think we heard, not recognizing that we’re interpreting, not truly hearing.
Sometimes it’s harmless, like a misheard sentence.
Sometimes, it’s not.
Misunderstandings multiply.
Feelings get hurt.
Trust erodes.
All because we created a story that wasn’t true, and bought it as fact.
The good news? We can do better.
We can become observers of our listening.
We can pause. Ask. Clarify.
We can notice when we’re making things up and choose to lead with curiosity.
That’s what I did that day.
Good on me.
And maybe good on you, too, when you remember this simple truth:
Most of us aren’t hearing what’s being said.
We’re hearing what we made up about what’s being said.
We don’t know how things are.
We only know how we interpret them to be—how we assign meaning to the experience we’re having.
We live in a world of interpretations.
We listen through the world we made up.
What if you could become a better listener?
To be aware that just because you think something is true, it doesn’t mean it is.
To learn to listen not to your thoughts, but to truly receive what the other person is saying.
So many of us carry the ache of not being heard, not being seen, not being met.
Yet, we don’t realize we’re doing the very same thing to others.
This is an invitation to change that.
To practice presence.
To listen with clarity, humility, and care.
Join me this summer for a live Zoom class: The Art of Listening.
It might change how you experience yourself and others.
Click here to find out more.
Blessings and Joy,
