Engaged Listening as a Paradigm Shift

Engaged listening is one of the most important and foundational skills that I return to again and again in learning about and teaching interpersonal relationship and conflict resolution skills. In co-leading Compassionate Listening groups and in teaching reflective listening skills in workshops, I'm always struck by how rare the experience is of being truly listened to, how quickly bonds can form when deep listening is present in a conversation, and how feeling heard and understood opens people up to being able to hear and understand the other.

There are various models for better listening, including the two I mentioned above, and many of us have encountered at least one. Many of these models include steps and some include formulas for restating and reframing ideas, which can certainly be helpful. Truly engaged, present, and compassionate listening, however, involves a paradigm shift -- a reorientation to a new way of thinking about the underlying goals of our conversations and relationships, and a consideration of how our pre-programmed reactions and/or responses (the difference between the two being the degree of empowered choice involved) might or might not support those goals. Whatever your level of proficiency, listening is a skill that requires constant practice and mindfulness in order to impart our relationships with its most powerful gifts. At the same time, it's not an all-or-nothing kind of thing: just a few minutes of focused attention, setting your ego aside, and cultivating true curiosity about another can yield powerful results for all involved.

I participated in a listening activity this week in which I was paired with a person who held a diametrically opposed political view from my own, with the instruction to practice engaged listening with one another: asking questions, restating main ideas (facts, feelings, values), and avoiding inserting our own views, judgements, or advice. My conversation partner was a man about my age who, according to the slips of paper we'd filled out, was pro-life. "A pro-choice woman and a pro-life man talking about a woman's right to choose -- this ought to be rich," I caught myself thinking, and immediately felt embarrassed about the bit of bitterness and cynicism I was clearly holding and already carrying with me into the conversation.

My conversation partner turned out to be a lovely human, of course. We started out by talking about the values that we hold around our views about abortion, including the sanctity of life, the mitigation of suffering, and the sovereignty of beings. I made the decision to shelve, for the time being, whatever judgements and assumptions about men and pro-lifers might be arising for me that afternoon. We each eventually shared a personal story involving unwanted pregnancy that had affected our lives: he had recently adopted a beautiful baby and shuddered to think that she might not have existed, had her mother elected to terminate the pregnancy; I shared with him my fears about my sister's current fraught pregnancy and the effects I imagine it might have on the lives of multiple people, including the baby's. I took note of the voice in the back of my mind urging me to be right, to change a mind, to lecture instead of listen, and chose instead a different goal for the conversation: to connect, to learn, to prioritize the relationship (however fleeting) over my ego. I don't know that either of us necessarily came away from that conversation with different stances on the issue, but I feel certain that our own understandings of the world are a bit richer, a bit more nuanced from the experience. And rich, nuanced understanding of the world helps us to make clearer, wiser, more compassionate choices about the things we think, say, do, and believe. The conversation, however brief and contrived, helped reinforce my understanding that relationships, rather than arguments, change minds and deepen understanding.

As Daryl Davis, a Black musician known for deprogramming white supremacists, has said, "When two enemies are talking, they're not fighting. They might be yelling and screaming, but at least they're talking. It's when the talking ceases that the ground becomes fertile for violence. So keep the conversation going. People learn racism through dialogue. If you can learn it rough dialogue, you can also unlearn it through dialogue."

One of my favorite models for engaged listening comes from my dear friend, activist, and all-around badass Calico Goodrich. Her Human Method is her tool for engaging people in difficult topics, and it includes many of the same skills found in deep listening practices, with her own distinctive (and highly delightful) flavor. I return to it frequently when finding myself in difficult or triggering conversations.

Says Calico:

The Human Method is a merely a tool and here are some of the things I've found it to be good for:

Humanizing the other side.
Gathering data.
Removing my ego from the equation. I find this liberating and refreshing. Also, it makes me feel safe.
Broadening my perspective.
Finding common ground.

What it's NOT good for:

Changing someone's mind.
Winning an argument.

If you're trying to change someone's mind or win an argument, good luck. I wish you more success than I have had. If you find a good method for doing this, please let me know.

There are certainly times when a full-throated articulation of some fucking facts is called for. There are times when you need to call out actions as dangerous and/or unacceptable. But if you're not in one of those situations, give this a try. Since I began using this method I've had some of the most fascinating conversations of my life.

In a similar vein, author and educator Carolyn Schrock-Shenk summarizes Five Listening Principles in a way that I find helpful:

1. Listening and understanding is about respect, not agreement.
2. Listen loosely to the words and tightly to the meaning.
3. Stay curious and open, rather than assuming and judging.
4. The other person will usually listen to you after (but only after) being heard and understood by you.
5. Listening is more an act of will than an act of skill.

All five of these principles are golden, but for me, the last two are particularly useful to recall when I find myself becoming emotionally reactive in conversation. It's helpful to pause and remind myself that I have the power to change the direction of a circular, contentious conversation by taking one for the team and resolving to be the one who listens first. More often than not, this act of respect and love will open the other up to accessing their ability to hear and understand you, as well.

I would love to hear about your experiences with listening or with being listened to, and how they have affected your relationships. Have your views and values evolved over time as a result of your listening practice, or as a result of feeling fully heard?

Image credit: The Conversation by Lisa Schultz