Shhh....listen
Rethinking what is means to practice listening
When We Get Quiet Enough by Alexa Torontow
When we get quiet enough
For long enough
We remember
To recognize something in our external world
Is to invoke that quality within the inner
To see is to call forth
To embody
To exude
The world acts as a mirror
An external teacher
Reminding us sweetly
Of who we really areWhen we get quiet enough
For long enough
We can hear the whispers
Of what is right
Of what is true
And most importantly
Which way is home
Let’s unlearn
Time and time again
Move from knowing to feeling
From doing to being
Staying quiet enough
Just long enough
To bask in our own awareness
And simmer in the essence of our soul.
January is proving to be a time of changing tempo. We’re moving at a less leisurely pace. At a steady clip, as my dad used to say. While I often advocate for slowing down, it’s natural for there to be a speeding up as well. As I speed up, I wonder: Who am I at this new speed? How am I at this new speed? What do I notice here? I notice that I tend towards habits that don’t support me. Staying up late. Not eating as well as I’d like. Less exercise. More scrolling on my phone.
This is not a crisis. I know it is a moment and that I can begin again. I know that this is a recalibration to a new rhythm. My job here is to listen.
What does it mean to listen?
Admittedly, I have often said I was listening when, if we’re being honest, I really was looking for an opening where I could make a connection, insert my point of view, or find a way to act. There are questions I’d often be asking to myself during these moments: What is there to learn from this? What is there to interrogate? How might I be supportive here?
While these questions come from a good place, they are not really listening.
So I ask again, what does it mean to listen?
To listen is to give yourself over to someone else: their story, their experience, their question, their perspective. It is to be enveloped. It is to be transported. It is to give your attention.
Parker Palmer comes to mind here. In his seminal and profound book The Courage to Teach, he says “Attentive listening is never an easy task — it consumes psychic energy at a rate that tires and surprises me. But it is made easier when I am holding back my own authoritative impulses. When I suspend, for just a while, my inner chatter about what I am going to say next, I open room within myself to receive the external conversation.”
A few things stand out to me here:
The acknowledgement that it is not easy to listen. Ahhh….that feels true.
Authoritative impulses. I know those well. My perfectionist wants to show that she knows everything and controls everything at every moment. It’s in most settings - conference room, office, kitchen table, phone call, kid’s room, classroom - that those impulses can be strong. I see them.
Suspending the inner chatter: I described this earlier as the ways I can insert myself into a story. I love that Parker Palmer “suspends” them. Yes, there will be a moment to ask questions about involvement or learning but in listening, you put those aside for now.
Th part that blows me out of the water though is this last little bit: “I open room within myself to receive….”
Yes.
It is no small step to open room in oneself. Whether it be in a classroom, at work, at home, or in the mirror, that can be a hard thing to do. It can feel uncomfortable and unusual.
And, let’s do it anyway.
Because the upshot sounds wonderful.
The upshot is “to receive.”
What will we receive? I don’t know. And I won’t know if I don’t quiet down and listen.
How might we open that room in ourselves and receive?
This is a big, powerful question. And there is no one answer. I do think, though, that we have a wonderful teacher at our disposal: ourselves. If we want to listen and to be listened to, how might we listen to ourselves?
I’m a big fan of listening to our body. Our body gives us information. Let me explain with a personal example:
I would often become argumentative during meetings when I was asked challenging questions. And I didn’t want to be argumentative. I love hard questions. Yet, I would talk faster, raise my voice, become more intense, and ultimately, shut down the discussion. A supportive mentor and coach pointed this out and suggested that I try to pause in those moments. Oh, the power of the pause! In that pause, I would ask myself a simple question: how do I feel right now? In that millisecond, I received a lot of information. I realized that I was scared. Tense. Nervous. Insecure. I noticed that my breath got shorter, I felt hot, and my shoulders were inching closer to my ears. I felt attacked.
My internal chatter - to use Parker Palmer’s language - had taken over.
I wasn’t really listening. To others or to myself.
The more I noticed this, the more I noticed it shifted. Note: it didn’t go away and it didn’t go away in the very next meeting. But it did shift.
I started listening. When I did, I heard something very different. I heard that there was concern. Confusion. A seeking to understand. When I stopped my internal chatter, I noticed. I received.
How might we cultivate our listening?
In her new book, The Light We Carry Michelle Obama makes a simple and profound point: we need to start small to get to the big.
My own story is an example: the small pause I took led to something bigger. By slowing down to listen to the information from my body, I was able to notice - to listen - to others. It led to a change in a group dynamic.
So let’s start right here, with you: What does listening look like to you?
When do you feel listened to?
When do you listen best?
When’s a time when you listened well? To others? To yourself?
When you listen, what do you hear? What do you notice?
What can you “suspend” to be a better listener?
The potential here is extensive and profound for our families, for our organizations, for our teams, for our communities, for ourselves. There is so much to uncover: stories, experiences, data, trends. Vibes, feelings, histories, dreams, wishes. It’s all information for us to explore, if we’re listening.