As soon as I heard the phrase it resonated. If I want to exercise influence on someone else, I need to in turn be receptive to being influenced. 

Sometimes people talk to me about what their partner wants them to do. Go for a walk. Spend less. Attend church. Leave work earlier. Play cards. Often they are fishing for confirmation that the request is unreasonable. Mostly I keep my mouth shut. 

In the early years such suggestions carry plenty of weight. Women go to sports events they have never shown interest in before. Men show up at the theater. But as complacency replaces novelty, we get harder to move. Inertia sets in. 

A few weeks ago I used all my chips to invite John to see a movie. Not only was it one he was not inclined to see it was on a Tuesday. Barbershop night. 

"It will count for my birthday." Long pause. He nodded. 

As it turned out he not only went to the movie, he bought me a new refrigerator. The old one was missing one drawer, another two were held up by boards, and both shelves had long ago snapped off. It was time. While it was a boomerang gift, in that he wanted it too, he did all the research, hauling, and most of the emptying out of the retired one. I am grateful. 

Because he was willing to bend in my direction I am mindful of how I might reciprocate. It certainly made me more agreeable to being left without a car for two days, when our second one was still at the mechanic's as his weekend of nonstop quartet singing approached.

Barbershop is a prime example of mutual influence. No voice is supposed to dominate, but rather every vocalist listens even as he is harmonizing full tilt. Each is responsive to one another, as they blend their composite sound. 

The twins and I walked to the farmer's market on Saturday and to church on Sunday. Who needs wheels. I have a fridge.