Photo by jordanfischer
This morning, Jason and I had would I would call a “good” meeting with the elementary school principal. Not great. Not inspiring or a huge relief. Just good.
“At least he seemed to be listening,” I said to Jason, as we walked home. “I think he heard us. That’s a start.”
Exactly. Listening is a start. In order for a meeting or conversation to cross over from “good” to “great,” the listening needs to be followed by a response—action, results, a change.
I have hope that our meeting this morning will eventually make that leap. In the meantime, it left me thinking more about listening—why it’s important, and how often it falls short, even when listening appears to be happening.
The frustration of being listened to, without the followup
There’s no doubt that people deeply desire to be heard. I’d say that’s one of main principles I go back to again and again here on my blog—it’s right up there with “people want to know they’re not alone” (and, not surprisingly, the two go hand-in-hand). When people feel heard, they’re given hope. They feel less frustrated, more empowered. They feel like someone else is advocating for them, which frees them up to look out for others.
But do you know what I’ve discovered? That listening can be a show. And while it hurts to know you’re not being listened to, I think it can be even more frustrating to think you’re being heard, and to later find out that you weren’t. There was no followup, no action. The situation beyond the conversation didn’t change. It happens all the time in realms that matter deeply to us—in marriages, in conversations with our kids’ teachers, and as we try to address issues at work or church.
I’ll never forget the first time I encountered a situation like that. I was in my 20s and was trying to address a work-related frustration that was eating away at me. I decided to go to the “right person” to take care of matters in the “right way.” She was a wonderful listener! She seemed to hear what I was saying, she responded in affirming ways during our conversation and even repeated back to me what she heard me saying. Clearly she had gone to a few listening seminars in her day. When I left our meeting, I was hugely relieved. But then nothing changed. All of the scenarios and frustrations continued on, exactly as they had before. It was as if our conversation hadn’t even happened.
Listening without followup might just be a show
Maybe, in this age of counseling and therapy and every type of self-help book you can imagine, listening is becoming an act that is highly pushed and respected. We hear about it all the time. We know it’s a good thing. We’re gradually learning to shut up—to stop talking and thinking about what we’re going to say next, and to just give our ears and minds over to what someone else is saying. But maybe in our well-intended efforts to be good listeners, we’re more focused on putting on a good listening show than we are on the good followup show.
As I reflect on this, I know it’s true of me sometimes. Especially with my kids. I’m more intent on giving them my attention in the moment—turning my focus away from my writing or cooking or whatever, onto them—than I am on followup. It’s almost like I think the listening is just an exercise, a chance for my kids to let it all out so that they can move on.
Sometimes that’s the case, but usually there is more going on. They’re worried about a situation at school that I need to help them address. They want help fixing something in their room or planting something in the garden, and I need to actually put it on my to-do list and make it happen. Or maybe they’re trying to tell me that they feel like I’m being too impatient with them, or overly critical. Clearly, the first step is listening openly to what they’re saying. But it’s only the first step in a whole process toward making things better.
