I'm a good listener. I really am. Ask anyone who knows me and I think they will tell you the same. In my opinion and experience, this is not the case for the majority of people. Too many of us are distracted by events around us, other conversations or our children or we are busy thinking about what we are going to say. It's easy to tell when people are listening...or not. For years I have referred to "listening" as a lost art.
“Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply.”
Stephen Covey, author of The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People.
I'm a good listener, because in most cases I really am interested in learning what the person I am talking with has to say. To listen is polite. It increases my knowledge in many different areas and shows respect to the person speaking.
"The most basic of all human needs is the need to understand and be understood. The best way to understand people is to listen to them.” - Ralph G. Nichols
I'm a good listener. I really am. Or at least I am when I'm not on my computer. Or when someone sends me a text. Or I'm in one of the many restaurants where nowadays they are placing TVs at multiple angles for maximum distraction. Of late, I have found myself succumbing to these. I am finding myself losing the art of listening. I am ashamed.
I am amazed at the pull, the attraction, the brutal hold technology has on most of us these days. I try to resist it, but I feel the magnetic pull when in face-to-face conversation to check the text, to answer the call; as though whoever this unknown person may be is more important than the person with whom I am personally involved with at the moment.
As though listening wasn't already a difficult enough challenge.
I sit across the table from another, watch their eyes, watch the irresistible urge to look at the TV instead of at me battle within them...and watch them lose. I am in a meeting, the phone rings and I am immediately placed on hold, again and again. I watch the crowds of people at a party, intermingle, flowing and mixing and I watch many stand on the sidelines engaged in a fiddling contest with their phones, or texting invisible others instead of enjoying the reality of live companionship.
Last summer my son Thomas and I were in Breckenridge, Colorado. We decided to take the ski lift to the lodge and then bought pricey tickets for the Alpine slide. The ride was exhilarating, the view breathtaking. I was torn between letting go the brake and ripping through the turns, or riding slow and enjoying the amazing beauty around me. We got to the bottom and overheard a twenty something girl telling the attendant that she needed to hike back up the slide route to find her drivers license. He was somewhat taken aback and asked how she had lost it. To which she replied, "My cell phone rang halfway down the slide, and when I pulled it out of my pocket my license fell out." An irresistible urge? Yes, I think maybe.
People ask me why we have a "no electronics" policy for our Go and See Short-term Missions Trips. It's because to me this should be a time set aside for those you serve, those you serve with and especially a time set aside for God. It's not a very popular policy...at first. It isn't popular until the team begins to actually enjoy each other's company, to feel the freedom of not having to answer the phone. Of experiencing time spent with God...without putting Him on hold.
I'm making a resolution. Today. I am resolving to once again pursue the art of listening. To ignore the ring of the phone or check the text while in conversation, or at a minimum ask permission to take the call and keep it short.
I want to engage those with who I am talking. To ask questions and listen to their responses. I want people to know I love them by the way I listen. I want to start here at home.
"Being heard is so close to being loved that for the average person, they are almost indistinguishable.” ― David Augsburger
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