How Good a Listener and Hearer Are We?

‘You are not normal.’

I received this compliment the other day.

The reasoning behind it was what made it a compliment.

I was successful in truly listening and truly hearing, and the experience for the person to whom I listened and whom I heard was so unusual that the only thing they could come up with was that I weren’t normal.

I took it as a compliment they meant.

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It is no secret that, more often than not, we listen to respond. Sadly.

I don’t exactly know how exactly we got here, but here we are.

But if we stop and reflect for a moment, to ourselves, in private, why do we do it? What does it tell about us?

I dare argue that, on the face and surface of it, two types of motivations inform our listening (outside of listening with an explicit intention to learn): wanting to put our point across or wanting to help solve a problem. Of course, there’s a lot more nuance than this simple dichotomy, but for the sake of the current argument I’ll employ the available simplicity.

Also, the motivations I am exploring today don’t immediately kick in at the onset, when the ‘listening situation’ begins. It kicks in slightly later.

Imagine (or recall, if you have an available memory stored) your life partner coming home after work having had a hard day, and starting to have a moan (just to clarify, word ‘moan’ carries some negative and minimising connotations with it; it’s treated as an undesirable character feature. I do not use this word in that sense as I believe it is misguided. I use it in the sense of ‘to vent’). Often, within a short period of time of them talking, we begin to have thoughts about what they could/should do, how to approach the situation they are/were in or begin looking for a silver lining. Of course, it comes from a loving place. We don’t want them feeling like they do and facing what they are facing.

Or a situation at work when a decision needs making about some particular issue. There’s a team meating, everyone comes with their own bit to say. Of course, contribution is expected from all parties, but while rehearsing our own arguments, we often fail to hear what is being said by other parties. Especially if some interests clash.

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Our egos drive the first one; the ‘putting our point across’. I’m not going to elaborate on this part today. Having said that, it’s not all black and white; our egos serve a purpose.

The second – helping to find a solution to someone else’s problem – on the face of it, is altruistic.

We are listening to someone’s story and, simultaneously, searching our brains trying to think of what would be helpful.

It’s a good thing, right? A welcome thing? We are taught that the thing to do in the face of a problem is to look for a solution to a problem.

We’re a solutionist civilisation.

But I remember many a time when my ‘offloading’ was met with, ‘Have you tried this?’ or ‘Maybe you could/should try this?’ or ‘Maybe you could look at it like this?’

More often than not, I find myself resenting it.

I know it comes from a good place, but I still resent it.

It makes me feel invalidated. It makes me feel not heard.

Because when I need advice, I explicitly ask for it. More often than not, we know what we need to do ourselves.

When I don’t, I just need a chance to vent. So that my knowing of what I need to do and what options I have available my specific circumstances can come through the noise of stress and, possibly, the feeling of having been wronged, and into clarity.

And when, instead of a space and chance to vent I get offered advice or alternative ways of looking at things, all it makes me feel is like my feeling do not matter, and think is, ‘Oh, what’s the point of even bothering to talk?!’
In the end, IT SILENCES ME.

Have you ever felt like NOT speaking, even when around your loved ones?

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The worst thing – I still do it more often than I care to admit myself. I give myself some grace as I, too, grew up in the solutionist culture.

But, to go back to the motivations of listening, there’s something else to be pondered upon in regards to the unsolicited altruistic ‘offering’ of advice.
How big a part of the wanting to help motive is driven by our egos (again, I am not ego-bashing; it’s got its place)?

We’ve all felt helpless in situations (and don’t we just live in the times when our helplessness is thrown in our faces every time we switch on the news or open up a social media app?!). It is not a nice feeling.

Could we also be motivated by the desire – the NEED – to rid of that feeling?..
(Am I the only one who’s suddenly overcome by the memory of one of the Friends episodes where Phoebe was trying to find a way to carry out a totally altruistic good deed that would not serve her in any way?)

There’s nothing wrong with offering advice or help. It is, indeed, a beautiful thing to do.

But to avoid the risk of making people feel like their feelings and troubles are invalidated (even though it’s far from our intention when we offer advice), of silencing people, maybe we should normalise asking first, ‘What, if anything, I could do to help?’, or even, ‘At this moment in time, do you need material help or advice, or do you need to vent?’

But to enable ourselves to do that in the heat of a situation, we first need to teach ourselves to check in with our motivations.

So we approach every conversation mindfully.

To listen when helpless is less a talent and more a skill.

To witness while feeling helpless is also a skill.

And I dare say listening and bearing witness are THE MOST IMPORTANT skills one could have in any and every context: personal, professional, social and societal.

That’s how we make a difference.

By listening.

By hearing.

By seeing.

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Yes, we need solutions to problems as there a aplenty, and, often, many perspectives are needed to find the best one.

But somewhere along the way we lost the ability to balance our solution-driven motivations with holding the space for another person just how they are and just where they are at any given moment.

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