Listening, Actually

 One of the most sincere forms of respect is actually listening to what another has to say.

     Bryant H. McGill

We spoke to a group this week about listening.  We shared that we believe all of us have the need to be listened to, to have our voices heard and our experiences acknowledged.  The people in the crowd nodded as we spoke.  They understood that need.

We also asked them if they have ever felt as if they were not always listened to.  They nodded more vigorously.  We asked if they can easily tell when someone isn’t listening.  They indicated affirmatively.  They could.   We then asked how it felt when they weren’t listened to.  Was it hurtful?  Frustrating?  Did it make them feel somewhat smaller? Diminished?  Their eyes, their expressions, and the many “yesses” told their stories.

They knew what it feels like, and it doesn’t feel good.

To have others listen to us is one of our essential desires.  It’s one of our crucial, common human yearnings.  But when we are not heard, when we feel unrecognized or unknown, we feel undervalued and unappreciated.  Who among us enjoys feeling that?

We cannot express enough how lonely and disconnected so many people are.  Those are common feelings because so many people do not feel heard.  But we also cannot express enough how significant it is when someone feels heard, how it lifts them and how it brings them value and a feeling of self-worth.

We also spoke with a friend this week who has been struggling with finding joy in his job.  He has for many months been considering a career move, making a major change in what he does each day.  He was at a meeting with colleagues a few days ago when he decided to take a risk.  He spoke up and opened up about his struggle.  He told his peers what he was considering.  It was the first time he shared how he was wrestling with his future with anyone beyond his family or closest confidants.

And you know what he got for his vulnerability?  Silence.  No response.  No reaction.  A change of subject by the group.  His admission was simply ignored.  It was as if they never heard it.  As if they never listened. 

How do you think that made him feel?  It didn’t make him feel very good.  It certainly made him feel lonely.  It definitely closed the door to opening up with that group again.  It shut him down and it inhibited him from wanting to share more.  Struggling to come to terms with a key aspect of his life, he quickly learned where he could not easily go for listening ears and support.  Thankfully, he told us and we were willing to listen.  But in that moment with his colleagues, he was diminished.  

It taught him an uncomfortable lesson about vulnerability and about sharing his story.  It’s a lesson we’ve all, sometimes very painfully, learned.  Not everyone will listen.  Not everyone is able to take the story we tell and treat it with respect and value. 

This clip from the movie Saints and Sinners, one we’ve shared before, highlights the vulnerability that it takes for us to be open to one another.  It’s not always easy.  But when we can find those who will honor our openness and our stories we are very fortunate people, indeed.

But we hope that we can continually teach a different lesson.  We hope that people can see and hear and feel the incredible value that listening can bring both to the teller and to the hearer.  The lesson that includes the teaching of self-worth, compassion, a message about respect and love.

Listening is a magnetic and strange thing, a creative force.  The friends who listen to us are the ones we move toward.  When we are listened to, it creates us, makes us unfold and expand.

     Karl A. Menniger

Photo by Aatik Tasneem on Unsplash