Too often we underestimate the healing that takes place when we simply stop and listen to someone. Not so we can respond, not so we can counter their argument — but listen to listen. Because they matter, and the words they say carry weight. A lot of the people we write about here were just good listeners. They weren’t trying to do any solve problems or fix anyone, they were just good at stopping and listening.
Sometimes, I wonder if that’s the only trait one needs in order to be a secret person.
I listen to political debate so I can state my opinions. I listen to conversation so I can tell my story. I listen to people’s problems so I can give them advice. I listen to my students so I can tell them their next steps. I don’t stop. I don’t listen. I don’t think I’m the only one who does this.
I grew up in a house with three siblings and two parents all of whom have formed strong opinions on just about everything. Conversation amongst my siblings was normally deals, bets, and arguments. I remember my brother and I making dumb bets every day about the lyrics to songs — which explains both why I am more in debt than I care to admit, and why I have a weird need to know all the words to every song. I have always liked strong personalities, so my friends were usually the same. When I needed my friends or my family, they were there for me. And when they did — when they would really listen, ask me hard questions, and dig deeper into my thoughts, I would feel taken care of. I felt like I was important and my thoughts mattered.
Listening seems so simple; like talking, breathing, eating, listening ought to come easy. But it doesn’t. We hold it at an arms length. When we don’t like what we’re hearing, we change the channel. When we don’t like the song on the radio, we tune in to something else. We excuse ourselves from conversations that make us uncomfortable, and avoid people we don’t like to acknowledge. And now, to make avoiding situations all that much easier, we have the excuse of technology to pardon ourselves from the etiquette of treating someone like a human.
I know that sounds extreme, but last night as I sat at dinner I found myself reaching for my phone several times. Why couldn’t I just be present with the person sitting right across the table? A few weeks ago in the middle of [what I thought was] a conversation over lunch, I looked around and every single person at the table was one their phone — some face-timing with another friend. Why can’t we look someone in the face anymore? Why can’t we be with the people we’re with? Why can’t we listen? Why do we prefer a person 12 miles away over one 12 inches away?
I remember my second grade teacher telling us the difference between hearing and listening. She told us it’s easy to hear, but not easy to listen. I can understand the words coming out of someone’s mouth, but to engage with those words is another thing altogether. To avoid sending a quick text in the middle of a conversation is something I have to consider now. I have to choose between taking a call from one person while I'm sitting with another. While technology certainly has it’s place in our world, and has made communication more accessible, it is incapable of fully replacing the multi-dimensional communication that happens when you see someone’s face react to your words. Listening is something that requires more will than it ever has.
Henri Nouwen says listening is so hard because “it asks of us so much interior stability that we no longer need to prove ourselves by speeches, arguments, statements, or declarations. True listeners no longer have an inner need to make their presence known. They are free to receive, to welcome, to accept.”
When we listen, and I mean really listen, we let others know that we accept them — they feel validated. Listening is a way of showing hospitality, it’s a way of showing love, it’s a way of being present. I hope we always value a person’s physical presence over their online presence. I hope we talk to people, not into a phone, not via text. I hope that we honor a person’s humanity by being present with them and not virtually somewhere else. I hope we look people in the face, and stop treating them like they’re a TV channel we can change. I hope that we cherish those who have stopped and listened to us, and I pray to God we all learn to do the same for others.
Image used under Creative Commons License courtesy of Matthew G: http://bit.ly/1KlaIK2