Sometimes this happens:

Someone’s talking to me in Spanish, and in my brain a second line of thought powers up.

Hey, I’m understanding! I get everything they’re saying! I even got that turn of phrase they just–

And then I realize I’ve stopped listening.

Then there’s this:

Someone starts speaking in Spanish. Right away my brain chatter kicks in:

Uh-oh, this person mumbles, or maybe I’m just bad at Spanish, it’s been three years how am I still–

And then I realize I haven’t heard a word they’ve said.

My takeaways:

1. Practicing listening in a second language is way more than just learning to recognize words aurally. It’s about staying quiet and present instead of letting that inner voice go nuts.
2. This is true in my first language, too.

*

In English, my inner chatterer starts up for different reasons than in Spanish.

Sometimes, it’s because I think I already know what the person is going to say.

Sometimes I’m superimposing my own conclusion onto their story.

Sometimes I spot ten different places they’re wrong and I can’t wait to point them out.

Sometimes I’m just excited that they’re rolling out such a great idea and I can’t wait to tell them how vehemently I agree.

No matter the reason, and no matter the language, when my thoughts run off like a runaway train, the exact same thing happens:

I miss what the person is saying.

*

I remember a handful of times in grade school when a teacher pulled out those “I Statement” worksheets, and we learned how to be passive-aggressive; or the “Active Listening” worksheets, and we learned to parrot what someone said, like robots learning to speak.

I’m not saying these aren’t worthwhile concepts. What I mean is they go way deeper than worksheets, and most of us didn’t grasp it the first time around.

It can take decades to really learn to listen.

To listen…

…We need to quiet that super-opinionated inner voice who thinks it knows everything

…We need to let go of the dangerous and ingrained belief that we already know what someone is telling us

…We need to adopt a state of mind that is purely receptive.

One that is open to being a beginner.

One that is open to being surprised.

One that seeks to understand, not be understood.

One that truly believes the speaker is a full person with experiences as vivid and rich and personal as our own, and who has something valuable to say.

*

Listening is more like meditating than any other activity.

(This came to me as a surprise, but maybe it shouldn’t be. Many wise people already describe meditating as listening–listening to your breath, to God, to your body.)

It’s something I work on consciously, listening. I believe that meditation is the most powerful tool I have to become a better listener, along with self-awareness.

Listening is especially necessary for me so that I can be good at my job (ghostwriting/book coach). If I can’t fully and deeply listen to someone–if I can’t clear my mind not only of chatter but also of preconceptions, assumptions, false conclusions–then I’ll never write well in another person’s voice.

More than that, though, listening is necessary to truly connect with people.

Real listening is a bridge to the world around us.

There’s so much talk right now about a loneliness epidemic. It’s attributed to social media, to the pandemic, to generational trends, to smartphones. I’m not saying those things are helping, but I don’t think they’re responsible. I think a lot of us, myself included sometimes, have forgotten how to listen. We’ve forgotten how to turn down the volume on that chatty inner voice, and/or how to set aside our own beliefs and experiences for the moment and really consider someone else’s.

Without listening, the walls around us thicken and calcify and trap us inside our own echo chamber.

Without listening, we can’t truly know anyone.

We can only know flat, one-dimensional versions of ourselves. We can’t hear new ideas or other perspectives or even new evidence. We become more and more self-obsessed.

We can’t be surprised.

Listening keeps us limber, keeps us growing, keeps us human.

I’m Kimberly, and I’m a ghostwriter and book coach who specializes in memoir with themes of mental health, spirituality, and social justice.

If you or someone you know is working on a project like that, and could use some structure and guidance–or someone to do the actual writing–let’s chat.