"A few years ago, a member of my family was going through a difficult time. My response was to check in once a week with a phone call. After I said hello, I spent the rest of the time listening. This went on for about six months. I didn't give it any further thought. Just recently, this family member brought it up by telling me how much it meant that I had called every week, and how helpful it had been. I hadn't given advice, lectured, or offered resources. I just listened. Journalist and author Paul Hawken adds this wisdom: 'When we listen to people our own language softens. Listening may be the cardinal act of giving. . . . I think it is the source of peace.'
"Listening is an art. When we think of describing something as an art we may think of music, painting, dance, drama, poetry, drawing, photography, or architecture, to name a few. We also describe some experiences or actions as art, such as the art of teaching, the art of medicine, the art of counseling, the art of preaching, the art of coaching. What do we mean when we say that? I don't think we are referring to the technique involved. We are talking about that extra something, something special that elevates the experience or act to an art. It happens with listening, too.
"There are many wonderful tools and techniques for more effective listening, such as active listening, empathic listening, relational listening, and body language. The premise of my work is that listening is more than technique. When two people are deeply listening to one another, we sense that not only are they present to each other, but they also are present to something beyond their individual selves — some call it spiritual, holy, or sacred. Musicians refer to it as aesthetic rapture, mystics describe it as ecstasy, athletes call it being in the zone, and jazz artists say that they are in the groove. All of them speak about it as a moment when time stands still. They are simply being in the experience. It is the same with listening.
"Being truly listened to is one of those experiences that we cannot observe in the moment. We can only describe it afterward. When we are in it, that's all there is. A friend told me about his encounter with a store owner as he was shopping for a wedding gift. The elderly gentleman began to tell my friend a story about the time he was in a concentration camp during World War II. My friend listened, first in polite interest, then in fascination and appreciation until he got caught up in the moment. He described it as being taken to another world. Nothing else mattered. Other people in the store, whatever was going on outside — he was no longer aware of them. There was a tremendous connection between the two men, and my friend left feeling he had been blessed by the listening. He said that it had been an honor to listen.
"For years as I was raising my family, it seemed as though I was the one doing all the listening. After my children grew up and left home, I found myself lonely. I can still remember the first time someone really listened to me. I felt as though that person was there just for me. I could share from my soul. I didn't have to censor what I said. It was healing and nurturing. There was a great sense of connection. The fountain of my being had been replenished. It brought me peace beyond understanding.”
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