The courage of listening

'When you talk, you are only repeating what you already know. But if you listen, you may learn something new.' - Dalai Lama

In what feels like a lifetime ago (okay, it was only 2016 – time flies when you're having existential crises, right?), I found myself facing another stranger across a coffee shop table. It was my eighth interview that week, and honestly, my brain was starting to resemble a melting ice cream cone. All those interviews were blurring together, and I was starting to wonder if they had any hidden stashes of chocolate croissants behind the counter.

But then, a glimmer of intrigue! An opening appeared in the conversation, like a trapdoor to the real questions I was dying to ask.

"Earlier, you mentioned you probably shouldn't vote for Trump," I began, trying to sound as neutral as possible, "because his policies were, as you put it, 'murky' at best. So, what is motivating you to vote for him anyway?"

My interviewee just stared at me for a good 30 seconds. I swear, I could practically hear the gears grinding in his head. Okay, maybe I was being a tad dramatic, but it felt like an eternity! But hey, I'm a researcher, and sometimes we get a little...intense.

"I just feel like he's angry for the same reasons I am," he finally said, "and he's going to do something about it. It's time someone like me has a voice. The libtards are going to have to listen now."

Whoa. Okay, that was a lot to unpack. I took a deep breath and nodded, genuinely curious to hear his perspective.

"Imagine a liberal was sitting here with us," I said, "and was actually willing to listen to what you have to share, no interruptions, no arguments. What would you say?"

Boom! It was like I'd hit a reset button.

His face went blank, as if the concept of a liberal listening was completely alien. Which, let's be honest, it kind of is in our current climate.

"Can I have a minute or two to think about that?" he stammered.

"Of course," I said, seizing the opportunity to escape the intensity. "Let me grab us some coffee refills while you gather your thoughts."

The coffee refill took a bit longer than expected (those baristas were deep in conversation about something), but when I returned, my interviewee was practically bursting at the seams.

"I think I would first just say...I'm scared," he began, his voice surprisingly vulnerable.

"I'm scared at the direction the country is going. It seems like we are caring about everyone else in the world, but we really need to spend our money and time here. Our country is changing, and I don't recognize it anymore. I feel like a stranger.

No one lets me talk. Liberals just write me off as an uneducated 'undesirable,' call me a racist, and say all sorts of other things about me and people who are like me.

I don't think there is anything wrong with wanting immigrants to do it legally and pay their fair share. If the government is as hard as they say to work with, then let's fix that. But there are photos that show the border is a miserable place and people are coming over all the time.

The land of opportunity isn't full of opportunities, and our current government doesn't care. Can't liberals see that? This government isn't for them either. Trump will disrupt things, expose the fraud for what it is. Draining the swamp is about a fairer government for all of us.

I do support restrictions on abortion, but not at the cost of a mother's life or because of rape or incest. My wife had a terrible pregnancy and if, at any time, we needed an abortion to save her, I'd support that."

He continued for a few more minutes, pouring out his anxieties and frustrations. It was fascinating – the false bravado had vanished, and the vitriol had evaporated, replaced by genuine emotion.

We exchanged a few more questions and answers, then wrapped things up.

"Hey, thanks for listening," he said, a hint of relief in his voice. "I needed to get a lot off my chest. I'm not a terrible person. I care deeply for this country. I know it's gotta change, but it needs to have room for people like me too. I'm just tired of always being the bad person."

I sat there for a few more minutes, letting his words sink in. Was it the breakthrough I was looking for? Not exactly. But it was definitely a glimpse behind the curtain, a reminder that even the most entrenched opinions often have a deeper story behind them.

---

---

The Ache of Being Unheard

I'd wager that each and every one of us knows the sting of feeling unheard. That sinking feeling when your words seem to evaporate into thin air, like you're talking to a brick wall wearing noise-canceling headphones.

How does that make you feel?

Recently, I had an experience where someone just...didn't listen. They were so busy formulating their own response that my words barely registered. It left me feeling deflated and, if I'm being honest, a little bit furious. Like a toddler denied their favorite toy, I stomped around in a huff for the rest of the day. (Okay, maybe I didn't actually stomp, but you get the picture.)

And I'm not alone. A quick glance at just one Reddit thread reveals a chorus of voices echoing the same frustration:

• "Anger followed by complete shutdown usually."

• "It is infuriating."

• "I've gotten angry and argued if they are dismissive. Or retreated and felt hopeless and unloved and cried."

• "It will either make me angry or depressed."

Thread after thread paints a picture of anger, fury, depression, and loneliness – all stemming from the simple act of not being heard.

It's like a primal scream trapped inside, yearning for release.

And this isn't just a personal problem; it's a societal one.

There's a simmering rage on both sides of the political aisle, and I suspect a lot of it boils down to feeling unheard. If the "other side" refuses to listen, where do you turn? To those who already agree with you, of course.

Which isn't inherently bad...until it becomes your only source of connection. Then we're talking full-blown echo chamber territory. We've all seen those Facebook posts: "Unfriending anyone who..." It's like we're building walls instead of bridges.

This behavior is toxic, plain and simple. It fuels division, deepens misunderstandings, and makes it nearly impossible to find common ground.

But here's the thing: I think the antidote lies in something incredibly simple, yet profoundly challenging: listening. Really, truly listening.

And this is where our inner child comes in.

Think back to your childhood. Were there times when you felt invisible, like your thoughts and feelings didn't matter? Maybe you were dismissed, interrupted, or talked over. Maybe your needs were ignored or minimized.

Those experiences leave a mark. They shape how we see ourselves and how we interact with the world. When we feel unheard as adults, it can trigger those old wounds, bringing those feelings of powerlessness and frustration roaring back to life.

Trauma can also have an impact, especially when they made us feel devalued, dehumanized, unheard, and unseen. I spent years (and honestly, still spending years) trying to learn how to not blow up the moment I feel unheard.

But it's not just those "big T" traumas that can leave us feeling unheard. Sometimes, it's the accumulation of smaller, seemingly insignificant moments – the dismissive glances, the subtle put-downs, the constant feeling of not quite measuring up. These micro-traumas can chip away at our sense of self-worth, leaving us feeling disconnected and unseen.

And when those feelings fester, they can manifest in a myriad of ways.

We might become withdrawn and avoidant, fearing that our voice will once again be lost in the void. Or we might lash out in anger, desperate to be heard over the din of indifference. Either way, these reactions often stem from a deep-seated fear of being ignored, dismissed, or forgotten.

But here's where we can break the cycle. Instead of letting those past hurts dictate our present interactions, we can choose a different path. We can choose to listen. Not just with our ears, but with our hearts.

Because true listening is an act of healing. It's a way to acknowledge the pain, validate the experiences, and bridge the divides that separate us. And it's the first step towards creating a world where everyone feels seen, heard, and understood.

---

The Lost Art of Listening

In today's world, it seems like everyone is shouting, but few are truly listening. We're drowning in a sea of opinions, constantly bombarded with information, and often more focused on broadcasting our own perspectives than understanding those of others. But what if we could change that? What if we could rediscover the lost art of listening and create a space for genuine connection and understanding?

Moving from Debate to Dialogue

One of the biggest hurdles to genuine listening is our tendency to approach conversations with a debate mentality. We're so focused on proving our points, defending our positions, and winning the argument that we miss the opportunity to truly connect with the other person. To become better listeners, we need to shift from this combative mindset to one of open curiosity and genuine dialogue.

• Let go of the need to be right: Recognize that conversations aren't always about winning or losing. Sometimes, the most valuable outcome is a deeper understanding of another person's perspective.

• Embrace curiosity: Instead of approaching conversations with a preconceived notion of what the other person will say, cultivate a sense of genuine curiosity. Ask open-ended questions and truly listen to the answers.

• Seek common ground: Even in disagreements, look for areas of shared understanding. This can help build rapport and create a foundation for a more productive conversation.

Ask yourself:

• Do I often approach conversations with the goal of proving my point?

• Do I find it difficult to let go of the need to be right?

• Am I genuinely curious about other people's perspectives, even when they differ from my own?

Embracing the Discomfort of Not Knowing

True listening requires humility. It's about acknowledging that we don't have all the answers, that our perspective isn't the only valid one. It's about being willing to sit with the discomfort of not knowing, of embracing the uncertainty that comes with truly opening ourselves up to another person's reality.

• Set your ego aside: Recognize that listening isn't about being right or proving your point. It's about learning and growing.

• Be open to being challenged: Welcome perspectives that differ from your own. This can expand your understanding and help you see the world in new ways.

• Embrace silence: Don't be afraid of pauses in the conversation. These moments can provide space for reflection and deeper understanding.

Ask yourself:

• Do I feel uncomfortable when I don't have all the answers?

• Do I tend to get defensive when my opinions are challenged?

• Do I find it difficult to sit with silence in a conversation?

Listening with Your Heart

Listening isn't just about hearing words; it's about understanding the emotions, the experiences, and the unspoken truths that lie beneath the surface. It's about connecting with another human being on a deeper level, fostering genuine empathy and compassion.

• Pay attention to non-verbal cues: Notice the speaker's body language, tone of voice, and facial expressions. These can provide valuable insights into their emotional state.

• Ask clarifying questions: If you're unsure about something, don't hesitate to ask for clarification. This shows that you're truly engaged and interested in understanding.

• Reflect back what you've heard: Summarize the speaker's main points to ensure you've understood them correctly.

Ask yourself:

• Am I attuned to the speaker's emotions and underlying needs?

• Do I make an effort to see the world from their perspective?

• Do I express empathy and compassion in my interactions with others?

---

Perhaps the greatest gift we can offer another person is the gift of our presence. To truly see them, hear them, and acknowledge their existence. It's not always about changing minds or winning arguments. Sometimes, the most powerful act of listening is simply to see the other person, to acknowledge their humanity, and to offer them the gift of being truly heard. And in doing so, we might just discover that we've been given a gift in return – the gift of deeper connection, understanding, and love.

Listening is courageous. It always has been. To quiet our own minds, to open our hearts, to truly be present with another person – that takes strength, vulnerability, and a willingness to step outside our comfort zones. 

So be courageous. Listen.

---

I’m thinking of you today. Know that I care about you, and you aren’t alone.

---