The Gift of Presence
When was the last time you felt truly heard? What did it feel like to have the person you were speaking with seem genuinely invested in everything you were saying? We regularly engage in conversations with people around us but we tend to demonstrate different levels of listening; and most frequently that doesn’t go much beyond surface level. You might be thinking, “hey, I listen to people all the time.” No question, you might be somewhat present, but how often do you find yourself distracted in conversations like these?
Be honest with yourself. Pay attention to the number of times your attention is drawn to something else the next time you’re having an immersive conversation with someone. How often do you check your phone or smart watch? In a crowded restaurant, does your attention drift to the sporting event being broadcast at the bar, or perhaps to the dramatic conversation between the couple at table three? Maybe you look as though you’re present, but you find your train of thought drifting toward something that has nothing to do with what the person across from you is saying.
For example, the friend you’re having lunch with is talking about problems they’re navigating at work. They’ve been assigned a new boss and they’re talking about how demanding that person is. This leads to you thinking about your own boss and reminds you that you forgot to send an important email this morning. You apologize for interrupting, but mention the conversation reminded you of something important. You then fumble around to grab your phone to contact your boss. You started with every intent of being as engaged as possible in the conversation, but this simple example demonstrates how easily we become distracted.
Let’s go back to that original question centered on feeling heard. We all process our emotions, reactions, and opinions with people in our social circles. In many of these day to day conversations, it’s not uncommon for that banter to go back and forth. In these interactions, we’re frequently listening to respond. As we converse, we tend to think about the next thing we want to share, which limits our ability to genuinely take in everything the person we’re chatting with is really saying.
Think about it. Imagine you’re talking with a friend who just moved into a new home. You might ask a few questions about how they’re getting settled and then start to reflect on your own experience moving into a new residence a few months ago. You start to take over the conversation as you become eager to share all the headaches that resulted from challenges with a moving company you worked with. Is that a bad thing? Not necessarily. It’s perfectly normal to engage in back and forth banter like that, and we do it all the time. It feeds our social wellbeing, but it’s not as powerful as being fully focused and zeroed into the person we’re listening to.
If you have a significant other, spouse, or roommate, it’s probably common for you to share stories about your day when you both arrive home. We all have frustrating days and it’s these opportunities that allow us to give voice to our experiences. When someone is frustrated, angry, upset, or excited about a particularly impactful event, that’s our opportunity to fully focus on them rather than eagerly think about the next story we want to share. It’s also important to be mindful of listening to the problem intently, before rushing to provide ideas for solutions.
I’ll be vulnerable here for a second. My experience as a spouse has taught me a lot about being mindful of when to listen and when to speak. It used to be common for me to offer up simple solutions to occasional problems my wife might be sharing with me at the end of our day. There were times the solution seemed super simple and I was quick to offer up my thoughts. A common reaction I would get was, “I’m not looking for you to fix this. I just really want you to listen.” I’ve learned over time that intently listening and demonstrating empathy to my significant other is often much more powerful than giving voice to my own thoughts when something seems to be weighing on her. As someone who is quick to speak, that’s been an important lesson for me to be mindful of as I think about the best way to support people who come to me for counsel and advice. Silent and intentful listening is a powerful thing.
In the Midwestern United States, surface level listening is almost culturally programmed into our daily interactions. Early in my career I worked in new student orientation programs at a large public university. On occasion, I had an opportunity to connect with international students at the start of their experience to introduce them to some of the cultural quirks of Midwest communication. One of my favorite reactions was when I would explain, “If someone is walking down the street, smiles at you and says, ‘how are you?’, they don’t really want to know.” The confused looks were almost always unanimous. Why would you ask someone how they were doing if you don’t want to know? Well, in the midwest, it’s sort of like saying hello. The cadence usually goes something like this:
“How are you today?”
“Pretty good, how are you?”
“Good.” (or “not too bad” or “Just living the dream” or “Same ol, same ol”)
We do this…all…the…time. What would happen if we chose to be just a bit more present in interactions like these with people who are important to us.
One of the most impactful conversations I’ve ever had happened during my undergraduate college experience. Something fairly traumatic happened to me the spring of my senior year and it started to impact my day-to-day life. I’ve always considered myself a fairly resilient person, but this particular event shifted my sense of identity and everything that I’d envisioned for the future. I wasn’t myself and I knew it. That said, I was doing my utmost to project my usual upbeat self. I had a professor at that time who was almost like a grandfather figure to me. Ed Willis was a professor in the psychology department and someone I deeply respected. I tried to connect with him whenever possible to listen to stories, glean advice, or seek counsel on what I envisioned for my future career. Ed knew me well. He knew me well enough that he could see right through the facade I was projecting in the class I was assisting him with that year.
I don’t know if Ed was aware of what had happened to me that spring, but I remember walking to my job at the local coffeehouse late one afternoon when he drove by. He pulled over and said “Hey Jon! How you doing?” I replied with the standard, “Doing awesome Doc, how about you?” I’ll never forget what happened next. He looked me straight in the eye and said slowly, “Jon…how are you really doing?” I remember welling up a bit as I realized he was probably one of a number of people who knew I was struggling, although I thought I had everyone fooled. I took a second to compose myself and said, “You know Doc, I’m working through some stuff right now, but I think I’ll be okay. Thanks for asking”.
That’s all he had to do to demonstrate he cared. He asked a powerful question and then he simply listened. Our conversation was brief that afternoon, but it validated every aspect of why I respected him so much. He was listening beyond words. He saw my body language in class every day. He noticed I was more distracted than usual. He went beyond just noticing by having the wherewithal to give voice to it in a way that challenged me to face the emotions I’d been desperately trying to ignore. It was a powerful interaction, and one I knew I wanted to do my utmost to create for others in the future.
In the coaching aspect of the work I do today, I often have the opportunity to provide this in the form of being present for organizational leaders whose roles require them to demonstrate strength, resilience, confidence, and fortitude. When provided the opportunity to give voice to frustrations or challenges in a safe, confidential conversation, people have the space to give voice to issues they may be trying to push aside or ignore as they strive to demonstrate the qualities noted above. Perhaps even more impactful is noticing body language that doesn’t align with statements like, “I’m fine” and exploring that further. It’s powerful to feel seen in that way and to have the opportunity to give voice to what vexes us without fear of judgment or reprisal.
Listening (truly listening) without the intent to fix or respond is a skill that sounds simple, but takes practice to develop. Want to demonstrate better support through listening that goes beyond surface level? In your next conversation with a mentee, child, student, or loved one who is trying to open up to you, challenge yourself to listen without the intent to respond for a period of time, save to demonstrate empathy or to invite the person to share more. Maybe briefly say what you notice in the person’s body language as they speak, or simply validate thoughts by using phrases like, “that sounds frustrating”. You might be surprised by how they respond.
