Dear Jessica Brennan,
Last week I was on the phone with the bank because I couldn’t remember my password for online banking. I can see your eyes rolling young lady. Before you send me to a home, I will tell you that I always use dad’s log-in credentials and have for twenty years.
Anyway in this new world of renewing your mortgage online, I had to electronically sign a document and to do that I had to sign into my own account.
So, first I spent some time – about 29 minutes I will never get back, according to my iphone – chatting with my artificial assistant, let’s call him “Art”, about products I didn’t want and services I will never access. In between these chats, I got to hum along with 1980s saxophone music that changed from time to time to sort of a classical sounding loop.
Finally, when I said goodbye to Art(ificial), a real live human (I think) answered the phone.
“Hey Sharon, how are you today?” He chirped, like we had known each other our entire lives. (The long wait for service was making me start to feel that way, if I am honest).
“Hey,” I said, “Good, how are you?”
That threw him a bit (which is what made me wonder if he was human or not), but in the end he came back with a friendly, “I’m very well thank you”.
As we worked through my issue, I was mirandized, and asked several questions about myself, my banking, Dad and the cat, he finally said, “Okay, I will get you a temporary password so you can log in while I’m on the phone and we will make sure that it all works.”
“Great,” I said, and waited for him to generate a temporary password.
And I waited, and waited. I could hear him breathing and shuffling, and I wondered what he was doing? But I just waited while he sighed.
After about 4 or 5 minutes, he asked, “Are you in yet?”
I said, “Well no, you haven’t given me the temporary password.”
He gasped then started giggling uncontrollably and finally said, “I didn’t give it to you? Oh my god. I am so sorry. I was sitting here staring at it waiting for you to tell me you got into your account, and all that time you were waiting for me to give it to you? I do apologize. It’s been a long day.”
We both laughed. I wouldn’t want to be him talking to people all day who by the time they get to him are frustrated with Art and with the endless saxophones. It really wasn’t an issue, and I was into my account in no time.
The moral that occurred to me in the middle of the night, the day of this sort of long story?
What if sometimes when we think that we aren’t connecting well with someone, it is because we haven’t given them the password? Maybe we haven’t given them enough of ourselves for them to find the key to open up the door to a path to reach us. Perhaps they are just sighing and waiting for us.
Or maybe they haven’t remembered to give us the password. It is easy to sit waiting and waiting, growing more frustrated and judgy, when just one question or one bit of information might be the password to open up a better level of engagement.
Dear Jessica, connecting with people is better than not. Even if the need is only temporary, provide them with a password.
Love,
Mum xo