“When people talk listen completely. Most people never listen.”
—Ernest Hemingway
Today is a new day. May we all take a moment to pause, take a deep breath, and move forward with the knowledge that this moment is all we have.
Recently, I’ve had more questions than answers about what has been happening in our country. I decided that I wanted to spend the week listening—listening to friends, listening to strangers, listening to myself. And so I did.
I listened to my friend tell me that the guy who cuts his hair is angry that so few people understand his experience as a young black man in the United States of America. My friend was shocked at what was simmering underneath the beautiful facade of this man he thought he knew so well. I listened to another friend whisper about the loneliness, the anxiety, and the pressure of her experience as the provider and caretaker for a big extended family. I had no idea. I listened to another talk quietly about how hard it is to grow old in a society that only seems to value youth. I listened to another rail about the state of our politics and scream about the lack of leaders and leadership and about everyone’s apathy.
I listened, and I’m not even sharing the half of what I heard. If I did, it would take you until next week to finish reading.
Everywhere we look, we’re inundated with news and information about how terrible everything is. We’re divided and segregated by language, by age, by color, by gender, by politics, by zip codes, by technology, by media, by income levels. And yet simultaneously, we’re all seeking connection, all seeking some common experience to share—an experience where we can hear another person say, “I hear you,” “I understand,” “Me, too,” “You are not alone.”
I’ve learned this myself by listening when I’m mothering, when I’m reporting, when I’m working with women and families struggling with Alzheimer’s. When I’ve listened long enough to a person I love or any of the people I’ve met, I always find commonality. I always come away thinking, “We’re so much more alike than we think we are. If only we could let down our facades and share our truth.”
In my week of listening, I also listened to myself, and I shared what I learned about me. It’s something I don’t often do.
I shared this: I, too, often feel disconnected, scared, or anxious. I, too, often feel alone in my life experience. I fully understand that my life experience is nothing like that of the young black man who cuts my friend’s hair—nor any black person’s life experience, for that matter. I want and need to do a better job at understanding that deep divide. I understand that my life experience is also nothing like a white man’s or a Latina’s or a transgender person’s. I need and want to have a better understanding of what their lives are really like. In fact, my own life experience is unlike anyone else’s. And guess what? So is yours.
But what we all share, I believe, is a desire to be understood, to be seen, to matter, to belong. As ourselves—not for what family, religion, race, or group we belong to or for whom we may be married to. We all share a common experience in our humanity. We all want someone to listen to us, listen carefully to who we really are, what we feel, what we’re scared of.
I know it’s hard to pause in our daily lives, to stop and be quiet and truly listen. I know it’s hard to hear other people’s pain, frustration, anger, and loneliness without internalizing it ourselves or letting our judgments get the best of us. But when you do listen deeply, you realize that while our experiences are vastly different, our hearts and desires are not.
And it’s the same on the larger stage. At this time, in this moment, I believe we all want leaders who bring us together. Not just with words, but with experiences and actions. We want leaders to listen, to be brave enough to share themselves with us, so we can get a glimpse into their own humanity, into their own struggles and fears. That’s the beginning of connection and trust.
At this time in our country and our world, what we want and need are leaders to ask us to put our own individual greatness to use. Because we can. We can each step forward and offer our own best selves to the world—in our homes, in our schools, in our communities.
Let’s imagine another way. Imagine if we made a commitment to listen with open minds and open hearts to find the common thread. Imagine. We just may begin to hear some answers. And they may not come from a podium or out of the computer. They may just be right inside of you. Listen.
Dear God, I pray I will always have good friends around me and that we will influence, encourage, and inspire one another to be the best we can be. I pray for friends who will speak the truth out of love for me, give me sound counsel when I need it, and be of help in difficult times. Help me to be that kind of friend to them as well. Amen.