Just Listen

No advice, no suggestions, just the gift of sitting with me and listening, please.

How difficult it seems to be for us to really listen to each other. 

Have you noticed the urge to offer advice, suggestions, or share your own version of whatever the speaker is talking about?

It seems to be an urge that is difficult for most of us to control.

And yet, I believe that one of the greatest gifts that we can give to each other is to simply listen quietly. Emphasis on quietly.

To pay attention to the words, the facial expressions, the tone of voice, the things not stated between the words…all this takes concentration and focus. This is even harder to do when we are busy trying to think of what our next response will be, even before the person is done saying all that they want to say. 

I think it is well-intentioned for the most part. To want to help, to fix, to lessen someone’s struggle or pain. I get it. I can fall into that trap easily enough myself. I appreciate the compassion that people can express in their attempts to offer advice and possible solutions. I appreciate them reaching out.

And yet I know that what I really need is for you to hear me. Hear what I am saying and maybe some of what I am expressing not only with words, but with other parts of me. Look at me. Pay attention to my face, my voice, my eyes, my feelings. Stop your own internal chatter as best as you can and listen to me. Give me the gift of your attention. Your deep and pure attention. 

As an aging elder, I see even more these days how precious and rare of a gift that deep listening is. Distractions abound. Distractions like those pesky phones that are always in our hands or on the table right by us. When you place your phone right by you on the table when we are together, you are letting me know that we may be interrupted by that device. That you listening to me is only guaranteed by what I can fit in before you receive a text or an email or a call that you feel compelled to answer right away. 

So, whoever is on the other end of that phone is more important to you at that moment than I am. 

Sometimes you, in your desire to show me that you relate to what I am saying, jump in with your own story. But I wasn’t done with mine yet.

How do we quiet our own internal voices and chatter enough to simply be with someone? We are not taught that this is enough, the act of being with someone and hearing them. We don’t need to jump to action or suggestions or advice.

Is what I am talking about when I want you to listen to me perhaps making you a bit uncomfortable? Perhaps you think that I am asking for a solution when I simply want to share an experience and the feelings that I may have about that. My feelings may be uncomfortable. That’s ok. Feelings sometimes are. You don’t need to try and fix them. I just want to share them with you.

If the story I am telling is one that you believe that you have an answer for, please first notice if I even asked a question or not. 

The issue of aging can add even more to this struggle.

Is the fact that I am older now negating the importance of what I might be feeling or struggling with? Does it, do I, matter less because of my age?

Does the fact that I am retired from work somehow translate to being retired from life and negate all the experiences that I have had when working? Experiences that I could share. Lessons learned, sometimes the hard way. 

Do you understand that I also struggled with being heard at work, when louder voices prevailed and interrupted me mid-sentence. When male voices, deeper and louder, commanded attention away from my softer voice. When they might have said the same thing that I was saying, but they were heard, and I was not. 

Does the fact that I am older and alone make you forget that I was once young and in relationships that I also at times struggled with, and at times so very much enjoyed? Perhaps you think that I have forgotten everything that I may have learned from them, that I have forgotten what passion feels like, or betrayal, or the heat of the moment and the love that leaves us in awe. 

Can you hear me when I am struggling with having a difficult day? When sometimes the weight of the world becomes a bit much for me to bear. When I need to vent and get some of this out to feel a bit less alone with it all. Can you allow it and give me some quiet space so I can work on letting it go. A process that gets interrupted when you jump in. 

Even when I write, I get answers to questions that I did not pose. The urge to offer a solution when all I was doing was sharing an experience and how I felt, hoping that someone might be able to relate to it and feel a bit less alone. I was not asking for answers. I was asking to be heard. 

I do not need to be told to appreciate things more and stop complaining. I am not complaining by expressing some of my feelings. I am simply sharing my experience of being human in that moment. Talking about feelings of pain does not mean that I am not grateful. These feelings can co-exist. 

I make people laugh these days as an elder who speaks my mind more. Trust me, I tell them, (when I am feeling bolder), When I want your advice, I will ask for it. But…don’t hold your breath. They laugh. I’m serious. 

I notice this even at the gym. Working out…and someone (usually a man) comes by to offer advice on how to work out on a particular machine. Funny, I don’t remember seeing his badge identifying him as a trainer. 

When I express a feeling, I sometimes get the response Oh, don’t feel that way, and more words to tell me why I should not feel what I do. Words to negate my experience and make me want to shut down immediately with this person who cannot hear me. Who will not accept my feelings for what they are. 

I volunteer at the zoo. I am on the Behavioral Observation Team with the elephants. I have learned even more the art of being quietly with another, to learn who they are, to get a sense of their presence in the world. So many lessons learned by simply and quietly observing another being living their life and being lucky enough to be in their presence. 

And even then, I hear some of the guests at the zoo express how they may want the elephant to do something different, do something fun to watch. Well, the truth is that he is doing something. He is being an elephant. Can you learn to see that, hear that, feel that, appreciate and honor that?

Must this elephant perform to get attention? Must we? 

At the same zoo I hear the parents chiding their children for not attending to what they think that they should be attending to. Look at this, not that. I brought you here to see this animal, not that squirrel on the ground. Pay attention to what I want you to see, not what catches your eye. Pay attention to what I want you to, not to what draws you in that moment in time. 

I have told a story before about a shoe salesman who I think I might have scared a bit. He was helping me with trying on shoes, and when I started to express what I was looking for, he stopped and said, Go ahead. I am listening. What? Did he just say that? I told him to please don’t take this the wrong way, that I was not coming onto him, but if he said (and meant) that phrase more, he would endear himself to any woman. Go ahead. I’m listening. 

Being human is extraordinary. An experience with so much to share about it. And those of us with more years lived may have even more to share. 

What if we could say to each other…. So, what is it like for you right now? How are you at this moment? Tell me. I am listening. I want to hear what you have to say. What you feel. Where your joy and pain are. I want to get to know you. Tell me. I am listening.