“You’re not listening,” he says.
I glance up from my laptop.
“Yes I am,” I reply.
I pride myself on strong listening skills – the ability to “hear” between the lines, and to read body language. I pride myself on being a parent who listens, encouraging my sons to talk – when they’re ready.
“You’re not,” he insists, barely raising his voice.
He’s giving me the look. The infamous “Look” I used to give him and his brother. The one that says “stop whatever you’re doing, and pay attention.”
Parents Listening to Kids
I’m on deadline. I don’t have time for this.
Make time, the voice says.
It’s my inner voice. The adult. The parent.
In a manner of seconds, I run through the worst case scenarios – late on my writing, or some unknown drama with my child. I know my priorities but it’s tough. Making a living, caring for kids.
The perpetual juggle.
Still, he knows not to interrupt unless it’s important. So I save my file, close the laptop, and sit up straighter. He’s been trying to explain something for fifteen minutes, and he’s right. I’m hearing, but I haven’t been listening.
Nolo contendere.
Listening in Marriage and Relationships
“You wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had,” he says. “The morning meeting was crazy, and it was all I could do to stay awake. Then we were assigned more interviews to conduct and that’s the last thing I can worry about while prepping for final projects.”
We’re on the phone. I’m stressed. I still have two more subjects to research, and a compliance document to wade through. But relationship responsibilities beckon, and this is part of it.
Empathy. Listening. Really listening.
“So how will you manage it?” I ask.
He rattles on about his colleagues, he interjects with a joke, he inquires about the weekend. I manage to offer a yes and a no and a really and a maybe. But I’m skimming text at the same time and my mind is wandering. I’m tired. I’m distracted.
I think back to my marriage, to making marriage work, to how important it is to pay attention, to carve out spaces in which you’re truly communicating. We didn’t do much of that. We didn’t do much of many things it takes to make a marriage work.
I jolt my train of thought back to this, here, now. The voice on the phone. And I haven’t been listening. At least, not in the way that I should.
Nolo Contendere.
Critical Listening Skills
When we teach communication skills, we talk about constructing an appropriate message and its equally well defined delivery. We understand that effective communication requires listening skills as well, and they involve picking up on visual cues if face-to-face, and understanding the speaker’s agenda if possible – venting, informing, motivating, confiding, testing the waters for a difficult request or a simple one; filling an empty emotional space.
Long ago I was taught to speak directly. There are times the indirect route serves my purpose better, and selecting my communication style is just one of the ways in which I choose to think like a man: Here is my goal; how do I reach it.
Long ago I was taught to listen effectively. Listening skills are critical; and critical listening skills are an asset.
It isn’t enough to hear the words in passing. It’s important not to interrupt. It’s important to pick out what is repeated as well as omitted. It’s essential to read facial expressions, to note the tone of voice, gestures, hesitation, the speed with which the message is delivered. This is how we discern more of the meaning behind the words. This is how we gauge our own best and most appropriate responses.
Listening to Our Bodies
My head spins and the clock on the wall tells me it’s two in the morning. My eyes burn, the screen jumps, and I take another sip of tea. It’s cold.
Sleep, says the voice.
Instead, I put on a sweater for a growing chill, and I warm my tea in the microwave.
You’re not listening, the voice insists.
“Leave me alone,” I say aloud, and return to my bed, where I continue tapping on my keyboard.
Morning arrives thinly as I open my eyes and my temples pound. I glance at the display on my cell phone and know I’ve only slept a few hours. My legs scream as I swing them over the edge of the bed. My shoulders ache from insufficient rest.
I have until noon to make a deadline.
Eat, the voice says.
“Not hungry,” I say, throwing on jeans and a slouchy sweater.
I pad into the kitchen, trash the filter from the night before, and filling a new one with the last of the grounds I resolve to muscle my way through the day.
The voice says: Stop. You’re killing yourself.
And I pause. The voice is right, and I haven’t been listening.
Nolo contendere.
Women’s Health: We Count, Too
We learn to listen in school, to listen at work, to listen to our partners and to our children. Some days, our listening skills are on the fritz. Others, they’re finely tuned and helping us solve problems – especially when we’ve slept, we’ve eaten, we’ve moved our bodies, and given ourselves a small amount of whatever it is that we need to thrive.
But for women, once we have families?
Our tendency is to remain stuck on the lowest rung of the Priority Ladder. We ignore the inner voice that instructs us to take care of our bodies, and to listen to our gut – literally. I have fought this practice all my life, and motherhood – single motherhood in particular – has only worsened it.
One more time, I plead nolo contendere, or no contest. But on this score, I ought to plead guilty.
If ever there were critical listening skills we need to perfect it is these: the migraines that recur from stress and lack of sleep, the sluggish pace that results from powering through our days on sugar and caffeine, the dumb moves we make when we’re exhausted, the depletion that catches up to us when we consistently cater to others’ needs first – until our bodies act out, and the inner voice says: Stop.
No Contest
It’s impossible to listen to everyone all the time; we’re busy, we’re tired, we’re distracted – or we’re just not in the mood. And I plead no contest across the board.
But it’s vital to to sense those times when we must listen, including listening to our bodies. That means allowing ourselves a moment to relax. That means not carrying the weight of the world on our womanly shoulders every hour, every day – because somehow we feel that’s our job.
It may mean reclaiming alone time. It may involve relaxing with our partners. It certainly necessitates treating ourselves with the same respectful attentiveness to basic health that we routinely support in others.
I repeat: I’m as guilty as the next woman, the next mother. And I remind myself again – to listen to my body. And sometimes that means not listening to our kids, to our significant others, to our bosses – politely deferring a conversation or a meeting to a time when we can listen.
- Are you a good listener – observing, as well as processing the words?
- Do you set aside time in your marriage or relationship to really talk and listen?
- What about your kids? Are you nodding as they speak, but your mind is elsewhere? Are you selectively listening?
- Do you know your body’s rhythms? Do you listen when your physical or emotional self tells you to stop?
Inspired by the 5-day writing challenge at Momalom, Five for Five, subject: “listening.”
You May Also Enjoy
Wow, guilty on all counts. And I have a very bad example from last night where I interjected a self-centered and irrelevant comment when my husband was trying to tell me about a friend who’d just left a job under negative circumstances. Most of all, I am terrible about listening to my body…terrible. This is all very enlightening, especially because, for whatever reason, I’ve always prided myself on being a good listener. I could use some work.
You and me both, Cecilia. And I suspect – millions of us. Maybe if we keep reminding ourselves, we’ll do better. 🙂
You know, I used to think I was a good listener, but now I kind of think I suck.
OMG, Dana! The last thing I wanted to do was make anyone feel like they suck. We all semi-suck at this. Women especially – and I think mostly, the listening to our own needs part.
What I should have said on the phone instead of pushing an hour later into the night? I’m sorry, but I can’t talk now. I’m still working. Can we pick this up tomorrow?
The problem is – we don’t do that. I’m generalizing here, but I think men are better at tuning others out without guilt, or rescheduling a conversation so they can continue whatever they’re working on.
Yes, yes, and yes. My eyes are gritty with lack of sleep right now. I feel like I go to sleep on this stupid laptop and wake up with my fingers already moving on the keys. Javi asked me and his dad to put our laptops in the closet after dinner last night. I don’t know how to do it all. I just don’t.
I hear you, Kelly. I’d like to say it gets better. I think it does – for periods of time. And then it gets tricky all over again. It seems to be where we are in this country, so many of us struggling to “do it all” not because we want to, but because we have to.
I am definitely guilty of not listening to my body. This week alone has been absolute proof of that, the voices in my head (I have more than one brain inhabitant) scolding me as I rub my neck yet again. I am guilty of all these things: half listening to children (because that blog post must be written, the chicken must be turned over, the towels must be put away (OK, wait, I’m giggling at that one; I don’t put the towels away)). I am guilty of being less than present concentration-wise when my husband talks of his day. I half listen to friends. Although I am capable of realizing this attention span shortcoming, I haven’t a clue on how to make it stop, not for any worthwhile amount of time, at least.
I wonder if we don’t ask for help often enough, Arnebya. The Superwoman Myth we think we have to live or there’s something wrong with us. Or, we simply expect too much of ourselves.
We live in a culture that prides itself on multi-tasking. And we women joke that we do it better than men. I’ve found, in reality, when I multi-task everything suffers in some way because nothing has my total attention. Marriage, kids, self…when we’re less than present for any of these (especially these), many times there’s collateral damage.
Collateral damage. Yep. I hear you Lisa.
There are three people who get my undivided attention almost 100 percent of the time – my husband, my daughter, and my son. Unfortunately, I don’t practice listening with others in quite the same way. Often I am thinking about what I am going to say before the other person is finished speaking. I interrupt (rude). Or I am at my laptop, only half-listening to a phone conversation (as you mentioned in your piece).
A long time ago, I learned “Active Listening”, a method that really forces you to listen and feedback what you heard the other person say. Rusty skills. I really like the method of “critical listening” that you explained. You have given me something to think about – as usual.
The older I get, the more aware I am of my body. I don’t always listen to it. When I ignore it, it eventually makes itself heard – one way or another 🙂
(By the way, I also loved the article on “Age”.)
Hi Robin, And I’ve been enjoying popping by Crime and Literature. What a great name for a blog!
Funny how our bodies will make themselves heard – whether we like it or not. Sometimes it just takes a little while…
Really glad you’re stopping by to read and comment.
I love how as an adult I keep cycling back to skills I thought I learned. (Can we ever really “arrive” at skills? Can we ever really finish with them?) Listening is one I am practicing this week. Listening, not being defensive, hearing, absorbing, and accepting what the other person is saying, even if I disagree. That last is the hardest: accepting disagreements when my whole body literally shrinks away from them. I feel such a difference though, when I do.
As for listening to myself, I do a moderate job. Oddly, being at home with my kids serves as a barometer. If I’m snapping at them, being short, I know I’m not taking care of myself. What does it say that I have to see how I’m hurting other people to stop hurting myself?
But there is so MUCH to listen to. Aren’t we sometimes forced to pick and choose? Right now: Slowest, smallest footsteps thumping down the stairs. Soon to result in faster, smallest footsteps raining into my room. Then: A warm, little 3-year-old body “suggle-ing” beside me. 🙂
Ah… those little footsteps and the snuggle. Yes, there is so much to listen to. We can’t possibly give it all our full attention, Jen. But sometimes we sense when we should, and the competing priorities make it very difficult.
How did I miss this post? Listen to words? Yes. Memorize them. Intent? Sometimes. Body? Bahahahaha haha ha.
Own needs? Never.
So go learn to honor self in order to honor family, and honor children in the process?
That would mean stopping to listen to friends who is wisdom I admire. Oh, wait, I do that already. And I will do it now.