Peter Bregman is a strategic advisor to CEOs and their leadership
teams. His latest book is 18 Minutes: Find Your Focus, Master
Distraction, and Get the Right Things Done. To receive an email when
he posts, click here.
How to Really Listen
7:37 AM Wednesday October 19, 2011 | Comments (57)
One morning, my wife Eleanor woke up, turned over, and said, "I am not
looking forward to this day." I asked her why.
What came out is that we were at the start of the Jewish high holy day
season, which means colder weather and three weeks of big social
meals, long religious services, broken routines, and children out of
school. Eleanor didn't grow up with these traditions, and they can be
overwhelming.
Now, I run a management consulting company; problem solving is what I
do. So it didn't take me long to jump in.
"Cold weather means ski season is about to start," I said. "You love
skiing. And these holiday meals are fun and filled with people you
love — they'll make you feel better. And I'll be with you; you won't
be alone with the kids. Also, you know, Jesus was Jewish, so it's kind
of your tradition too."
Even as I said it, I knew that last one was a reach. It became clear
that I was making her feel worse and now she wasn't just sad, she was
angry.
And when she got angry, I felt myself get angry too. And
self-righteous. Here I am trying to help her and this is what I get?
But then I smartened up. Instead of giving in to my anger, which would
have really blown things up, I shut up and listened. When I did, I
began to hear the real stuff, the things that neither of us was
actually saying.
What I discovered was that she was upset because the focus on mothers
during the Jewish holidays taps into her insecurities about
motherhood, not being a Jewish mom, and not having time to spend on
her own work.
I also discovered that my own babbling wasn't so much to help her feel
better as to help me feel better. I'm the reason she's in New York
City, living through cold winters, and part of a Jewish family.
In other words, by trying to make her feel better, I was doing the
opposite of making her feel better. I was arguing with her. In fact,
most of the time when we try to make people feel better, we end up
arguing with them because we're contradicting what they're feeling.
Which, inevitably, makes them feel worse.
Listening, it turns out, is magic. Not only did it help me understand
what was going on with both of us, but it helped Eleanor feel better,
too. It made her feel that she wasn't alone in her feelings; I was
with her.
All I had to do was listen.
But listening isn't easy. The more we listen to others, the more
likely we will react — or overreact — to what they say. Listening, it
turns out, is much harder than speaking. We have to allow things we
might disagree with to hang in the air. We have to move over a little
and create space for those things to linger.
That kind of listening takes tremendous courage.
But if we're interested in learning — about ourselves as well as
others — then it's worth it. And if we're interested in being
connected to others, showing them respect, helping them feel better,
and solving problems between us, than it's more than worth it. It's
essential.
Until people feel heard, they will fight to be heard. But once they
are heard, there is little left to fight for, and then we can move on,
not as "us vs. them" but simply as "us."
So how do you listen in a way that transforms conversations and relationships?
Actually listen. And only listen. That means don't multitask. I'm not
just talking about doing email, surfing the web, or creating a grocery
list. Thinking about what you're going to say next counts as
multitasking. Simply focus on what the other person is saying.
Repeat back. This feels a little silly at first but works magic. If
someone says she is angry about the decision you just made, you can
say "you're angry about the decision I just made." I know, I know, she
just said that. But it shows you're listening and it communicates to
the other person that she's been heard. If you don't have the courage
to try it with an adult, try it with a child. You'll see what a
difference it makes and it will embolden you to try it with a
colleague or your spouse.
Ask questions. Explore the other person's thoughts and feelings more
deeply. And "You don't really believe that, do you?" does not count as
a question. You are not using the Socratic method to prove your point;
you are trying to better understand what's going on so you can better
understand your partner in this conversation.
Really listening can feel risky, which seems strange because listening
doesn't materially change anything. But sometimes you'll hear things
that are hard to hear.
Remember that listening is not the same thing as agreeing. And it will
never force you to take any particular action. If anything, it will
reduce the intensity of people's insistence that you take a specific
action. Because in many cases what they're looking for is proof that
you've heard them. So if they feel you've really heard them, their
need for action diminishes.
As Eleanor spoke, I noticed my own resistance to various things she
was saying. There's no question that it's hard to really listen. But
once I relaxed into it, I heard her in a much deeper way. That made
her feel better. Call me co-dependent, but it made me feel better too.
It turns out that sometimes, just listening is problem-solving.
teams. His latest book is 18 Minutes: Find Your Focus, Master
Distraction, and Get the Right Things Done. To receive an email when
he posts, click here.
How to Really Listen
7:37 AM Wednesday October 19, 2011 | Comments (57)
One morning, my wife Eleanor woke up, turned over, and said, "I am not
looking forward to this day." I asked her why.
What came out is that we were at the start of the Jewish high holy day
season, which means colder weather and three weeks of big social
meals, long religious services, broken routines, and children out of
school. Eleanor didn't grow up with these traditions, and they can be
overwhelming.
Now, I run a management consulting company; problem solving is what I
do. So it didn't take me long to jump in.
"Cold weather means ski season is about to start," I said. "You love
skiing. And these holiday meals are fun and filled with people you
love — they'll make you feel better. And I'll be with you; you won't
be alone with the kids. Also, you know, Jesus was Jewish, so it's kind
of your tradition too."
Even as I said it, I knew that last one was a reach. It became clear
that I was making her feel worse and now she wasn't just sad, she was
angry.
And when she got angry, I felt myself get angry too. And
self-righteous. Here I am trying to help her and this is what I get?
But then I smartened up. Instead of giving in to my anger, which would
have really blown things up, I shut up and listened. When I did, I
began to hear the real stuff, the things that neither of us was
actually saying.
What I discovered was that she was upset because the focus on mothers
during the Jewish holidays taps into her insecurities about
motherhood, not being a Jewish mom, and not having time to spend on
her own work.
I also discovered that my own babbling wasn't so much to help her feel
better as to help me feel better. I'm the reason she's in New York
City, living through cold winters, and part of a Jewish family.
In other words, by trying to make her feel better, I was doing the
opposite of making her feel better. I was arguing with her. In fact,
most of the time when we try to make people feel better, we end up
arguing with them because we're contradicting what they're feeling.
Which, inevitably, makes them feel worse.
Listening, it turns out, is magic. Not only did it help me understand
what was going on with both of us, but it helped Eleanor feel better,
too. It made her feel that she wasn't alone in her feelings; I was
with her.
All I had to do was listen.
But listening isn't easy. The more we listen to others, the more
likely we will react — or overreact — to what they say. Listening, it
turns out, is much harder than speaking. We have to allow things we
might disagree with to hang in the air. We have to move over a little
and create space for those things to linger.
That kind of listening takes tremendous courage.
But if we're interested in learning — about ourselves as well as
others — then it's worth it. And if we're interested in being
connected to others, showing them respect, helping them feel better,
and solving problems between us, than it's more than worth it. It's
essential.
Until people feel heard, they will fight to be heard. But once they
are heard, there is little left to fight for, and then we can move on,
not as "us vs. them" but simply as "us."
So how do you listen in a way that transforms conversations and relationships?
Actually listen. And only listen. That means don't multitask. I'm not
just talking about doing email, surfing the web, or creating a grocery
list. Thinking about what you're going to say next counts as
multitasking. Simply focus on what the other person is saying.
Repeat back. This feels a little silly at first but works magic. If
someone says she is angry about the decision you just made, you can
say "you're angry about the decision I just made." I know, I know, she
just said that. But it shows you're listening and it communicates to
the other person that she's been heard. If you don't have the courage
to try it with an adult, try it with a child. You'll see what a
difference it makes and it will embolden you to try it with a
colleague or your spouse.
Ask questions. Explore the other person's thoughts and feelings more
deeply. And "You don't really believe that, do you?" does not count as
a question. You are not using the Socratic method to prove your point;
you are trying to better understand what's going on so you can better
understand your partner in this conversation.
Really listening can feel risky, which seems strange because listening
doesn't materially change anything. But sometimes you'll hear things
that are hard to hear.
Remember that listening is not the same thing as agreeing. And it will
never force you to take any particular action. If anything, it will
reduce the intensity of people's insistence that you take a specific
action. Because in many cases what they're looking for is proof that
you've heard them. So if they feel you've really heard them, their
need for action diminishes.
As Eleanor spoke, I noticed my own resistance to various things she
was saying. There's no question that it's hard to really listen. But
once I relaxed into it, I heard her in a much deeper way. That made
her feel better. Call me co-dependent, but it made me feel better too.
It turns out that sometimes, just listening is problem-solving.
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