How I Listen

Listening came up twice this week in sessions.
Once, someone shared how frustrating it is to have a friend who doesn’t really listen.
Another time, someone wondered if they themselves are a good listener.

So I started thinking about listening.

Why does listening seem so hard for so many people?

Now, I’m biased—I literally get paid to listen.
But honestly, my training didn’t fully prepare me for the extent and magnitude of listening that’s embedded in this role.

Listening is huge.
It’s deeply complex, highly intellectual, and emotionally demanding.

When I’m listening, I’m listening for several things at once:

• what you say

• how you say it

• why you say it

At the same time, I’m tracking:

• how what you’re saying connects to your history

• how it connects to what you’re struggling with right now

I’m holding your words, your tone, your story, and your patterns all at once.

But it doesn’t stop there. I’m also observing.

Your tone of voice.
Your word choices.
The awkward laughs.
The slips of the tongue.
Your body language.
Your facial expressions.
The pauses.
The patterns in how you think.

All of this is happening simultaneously.
It requires deep focus and real self-awareness on my end.

And that self-awareness guides how I respond.

For example, when someone is sharing something deeply painful, I often feel that pain in my body.
But I have to be careful with that.
Is this your pain—or something in me getting activated?

So I check in with myself.
Sometimes I’ll say, “When you say this, I feel something heavy—does that fit for you?”
Or, “Correct me if I’m wrong, but this sounds painful.”
Other times I’ll simply name it: “That sounds painful,” trusting that you’ll correct me if I’m off.

This is the work of a 50-minute session.

My goal is simple, but not easy:
To help you feel seen and heard.

I want it to be clear that I’m in this with you.
That I’m jumping into the sandbox alongside you.
Supporting you as you figure yourself out.
Gently offering new perspectives.
Carefully reframing what feels misaligned or out of sync with who I know you to be.

I feel deeply honored to hold this role.
It sometimes feels like being a professional best friend—
with boundaries, training, and a lot of care.

It’s truly rewarding work.

So thank you for letting me listen.