What can we really learn by listening deeply?
I recently celebrated my Solar Return (aka ‘Birthday’). This year, the day looked something like this: leisurely morning, a massage, a delectable (long) lunch. An afternoon by the sea.
It was exactly what I needed.
Despite being in a completely new country, away from friends and family, my solitude felt like a much-needed reset after a period of a lot of personal change. Personally, I think some time alone on your birthday is a luxury. Taking time to connect with your self, reflecting on the past year, making intentions for the year to come. It was all part of my ritual.
Then, at night, I met a group of expats in Chania for dinner. Not close friends. Strangers, really. I figured that even though I am in a new place, I should still find a way to celebrate with others. And, overall, it was lovely to share a Cretan meal over conversation with people from all over the world.
And during that meal, I observed a lot.
The conversation moved the way that many conversations do: politics, money, history, war. Several people at the table had grown up living under communism. It was very interesting for me to hear the accounts of life under Soviet control because, as an American, their lived experiences differ vastly from my own. Though, I must admit, there are strange similarities between their accounts and the leaders of what we consider the “free world” today.
One of the women at the table was emphatic that communism, in its idealized form, could never work because it is simply human nature to be greedy. She claimed that, as a human collective, that is part of who we are. Simply put.
My ears perked, because I don’t believe this to be a truth about human nature, but I didn’t say anything. I just listened.
Then a U.S. military veteran spoke at length about how much he loves Crete and shared accounts of the Cretans being conquered throughout history. A native Texan, he commented about how he loved that so many people have guns in Crete. He commented that he respected the residents of this island because of their resistance throughout history. He stated, more than once, that the Cretans were his heroes…for killing the Nazis.
My stomach turned knots. But I listened.
To be clear, I do not align with his perspective at all. But rather than close down, look away, or shut him down in some other way, I chose to be open.
I chose to listen deeply.
Like, really listen. I genuinely wanted to understand where that perspective came from. After a few minutes, I could understand why, given his life experiences in the military, and the pride he felt for the island of Crete, he would make the comments that he did. I didn’t agree. But I understood and I didn’t cast judgment on him.
In our divided world today, this is a radical act: to choose to listen openly. It can be a challenge to stay curious to another person and to open yourself in your listening to receive, rather than to react. The world stage is full of actors reacting to one another, without true presence or even the faintest desire (or ability) to truly listen.
But when we choose to listen deeply, we choose to honor the life experience and perspectives of another. In learning to deeply listen, we also can learn a lot about ourselves.
Both of these individuals have worldviews that are completely different from my own. But in my choice to deeply listen, I learned a lot, both from what was said and from what was not said.
Because I was listening that closely, not just to the words but what was underneath them, I started noticing something else. Something I would have missed if I were busy preparing my response.
The conversation was entirely outward-facing.
The problems discussed were all externally-oriented. The leaders were always somewhere else, sometimes evil, but definitely, at fault. The solutions were historical—who fought whom, who won, who held power, who lost it. How much of a mess the world is. How this current war in the Middle East is likely going to impact the future.
Nobody was looking inward. Their conscious focus was externally-focused.
And I want to be clear: this is not a criticism. These were good, kind-hearted people who have lived very different experiences from my own. But what I was witnessing, was a particular orientation; one that humanity, at large, still operates from. The world is happening out there. The answers are out there. Leadership is something other people do. The power is in the hands of someone else.
I wondered, sitting there, how many of us notices where our attention actually lives.
This is an example of what deep listening can reveal. Not just the content of what another person is saying, but the orientation underneath it…theirs, and our own. When we listen this way, we start to hear how much of our attention has been living outside of us. We can understand more than words express.
This is why deep listening is one of the most important capacities we need to develop as leaders if we want to lead others consciously. It is not just a communication skill. It is an act of reorientation. To listen deeply to another, we have to first be present enough to ourselves to hear them. And in that presence, we begin to notice what we’ve been outsourcing: our attention, our authority, our sense of what’s possible. And we make space to receive new insights and new understandings.
I’m not saying you need to go on a ten-day silent retreat to reconnect with your inner world (though I’m not saying that wouldn’t be a good idea), but I am suggesting that we can make concerted effort in our daily lives to turn our attention inward and to listen deeply to what is going on inside of us.
And when we do that, by extension, we will be more likely to attune ourselves to the inner world and the orientation of others.
Our capacity to deeply listen opens us up to new possibilities, because it orients us to honor the experiences of those around us. We don’t have to agree to understand. We don’t have to dissolve our own perspective to receive another’s. But in the act of opening ourselves up in our listening of others, we create new possibilities.
It’s a conscious choice.
That night in Chania, surrounded by strangers whose worldviews diverged sharply from my own, I left the table with more than a shared meal. I left with a quieter understanding of what deeper connections with others can look like and what it requires. And what can be revealed when someone decides to actually listen.
So here is what I’ll offer you: the next conversation you find yourself in—at a dinner, in a meeting, with someone you love, with someone you’ve already decided you disagree with—try listening deeply. Listen without preparing your response. Listen without correcting. Listen as if the person across from you might be carrying something you haven’t yet imagined. Something you need to receive. And then notice what happens. Not just in them. In you.
You might be surprised at what is revealed.