I have always considered myself a great listener but, I confess, that I know I have not always been a great conversationalist.

Active listening is when a person is engaged and paying full attention to the other. It is done well when the one listening is reading and noticing non-verbal communication in addition to words spoken. Despite having ADHD, I actually think I’m great at this…but, as I said, I know I don’t always come across that way.

This is for two main reasons. One is that I get so into what the other person is saying and consequently excited that I often interrupt them or jump in when there is a short pause, eagerly offering my two cents. Sorry to all those victimized mid-sentence by my seemed-urgent-to-me commentary. Another reason that I have not always been a great conversation partner is that I do something, that I have learned many with neuro-developmental disorders do, which is seeking to show empathy by connecting an experience in my own life that relates to what the other person is telling me…and then tell them about it. That might not sound like such a bad thing but I have been told it comes across as “making their thing about me.” A friend who I love and trust gently pointed this out to me. It hadn’t occurred to me that I was doing this. In my mind I was showing that I was listening and cared about what they were saying by offering proof that I understood and could empathize with the situation.

I know how frustrating both of these behaviours can be. It used to bother me when others do it but now I have so much more grace because I feel like I have an insider understanding of what could be going on. I assume that they, like me, are trying really hard to be a great friend. If you get nothing else from this post, I hope you have a bit more grace too. I’m happy to say though, that since studying to become a Spiritual Director I have improved in this area in a ton. Though it may have been the one of the hardest areas I had to work to at in order to become an effective spiritual director – and pastor for that matter. You see, in a direction session I am attempting to listen to my directee and to what God is saying while simultaneously noticing the things happening in me. When a question or memory is stirred up I am then trying to discern, “is what’s happening now something God is giving me to bless the other, or is this only a me thing and I can put it aside for my time with my own director?” While this doesn’t come naturally to most of us, what I lack in conversation skill I make up for in noticing. And I believe with practice we all can be great noticers.

Most children that I know are great at this, at least when they need to be. This is especially true of those with siblings. Take for example a relational rule that my brothers and I liked to call the “bleeding, broken or crying rule.” From what I have heard, it might actually be a universal experience for those of us who came from large families, that there was an unspoken (or in our case spoken) rule on when one can and cannot laugh at another’s misery. For my brothers and I the Rule sounded like this:

If you trip, fall, fail or bail I am allowed to laugh at you…UNLESS your accident results in you bleeding, broken or you are crying.

The incident doesn’t even have to be a physical injury. When my 10th grade boyfriend broke up with me and announced it to my brothers on his way out of our home, my oldest brother raced to my room, with what I’m sure were at least 3 great jokes to make at my expense. When he opened the door to my room I burst into tears and instead of teasing or joking he told me that he “never really liked the guy any way” and offered to take me out for a slurpee. But when that same brother took me out on my first pair of rollerblades and I spent the entire time comically flailing my arms around and wiping out like a cartoon character, with what felt like slow motion crashes…that same brother would laugh his butt off! Because he knew the RULE. Since I wasn’t bleeding, broken or crying he would make fun of me, point out that I was fine and tell me to get back up and try again.

One should note that there are exceptions to the rule. If I am on the verge of tears you can’t laugh otherwise I will definitely cry. One then needs to pay careful attention to ever so slightly quivering lips or when another’s eyes appear to have that glassy red look that we get when we are holding back tears so that one knows to offer preemptive hugs.

Another exception to the rule is if I start laughing at my own misery first. This is typically a green light to join in but laughter can also be a cover for something deeper so take notice if someone is laughing when you think they should be crying. You have to pay such close attention to know the difference and hold the space with out judgement. I will say a little more on this later but first let me give you one more anecdotal example.

My youngest brother and I rented e-scooters to explore downtown Edmonton and generally goof off on for the afternoon. Naturally, as siblings do we started to race. At one point he turned around from in front of me and said “watch this!” Naturally, I sped up. Only, he hadn’t said “watch this,” rather “watch out!” There was a cyclist coming toward us and we were riding in the lane because construction had taken out all our other options. She swerved to avoid me. I slammed on my braked and flipped over my scooter which twisted under me and ended up injuring up my feet, hands and legs in a way that I still don’t understand. It hurt and I wasn’t sure how seriously I was injured though I was sure the cyclist was calling me an idiot. And then there was the construction worked standing across the street who was shaking his head and yelling over “you are the 5th person this week I have seen crash one of those things…be more *expletive* careful!” My brother, held off laughter while he assessed the situation. He looked over my confused face, my bleeding legs pretzeled around an e-scooter and the construction worker shaking his head and asked,
“Why didn’t you stop?”
“I thought you said watch this,” I replied, still a little stunned. As soon as fraction of a smile broke out on my face he burst into laughter. We both laughed hard while the construction worked yelled over asking if we needed an ambulance. I whispered to my brother that I thought I was fine but whatever happens we were not to let on to the surrounding witnesses know how hurt I was and I needed him to just help me get to the car. Fortunately for me, my brother is a paramedic and assessing wether wounds to pride are more urgent than physical is within his scope of practice. He knew I was going to be ok after some ice and patching up and let me complain about how much pain I was in the rest of the day in between us laughing about it. He always knows (as good brothers and friends do) that sometimes you just need someone to laugh with you, even though you may actually not be ok and still need help getting up into the car. Yes, laughter might cover up a deeper hurt or embarrassment but there is a time to listen, a time to laugh and a time to cry with someone. The only way to tell for sure is to pay very close attention not just to what they are saying, what others around are saying but to what their face and body are telling you too.

Friends, so much of active listening is like living by the bleeding, broken or crying rule. You see or hear about something serious happening to another and you pause long enough to notice how they’re response is inviting you to respond. You can study their face and expression and evaluate wether it is matching what their words are saying. You study their body and quickly notice if it is matching what their face is saying. Study their surroundings. Are they safe to enough to share what they really need or tell you what is really happening? Do they appear broken and need help? Or maybe they are a bit battered but actually need someone to tell them “You are ok, get back up!” As I said, we are not always great at noticing but all the clues are usually there. And maybe kids are not necessarily better at the noticing so much as they are great at telling us what is actually going on and how they want us to help. When I was younger if my brother or I were really hurt or in trouble we would shout “GET MOM,” before the other even had the chance to say “are you ok?” Or when my brother would hurt himself (which was often) and I would try and console him but he was in so much pain that everything I said was annoying he would shout “don’t talk to me, it hurts!” And I would stand there looking sympathetically at him until he was ok, not speaking but not daring to leave his side in case he eventually needed my help. As adults we don’t often say “get help now” or “I just need you stay here and be quiet while I cope with what is happening.” So when we do speak we need those around us to pay careful attention to what we are saying.

Now, all stupidity related injuries aside, my brothers and I had a rough childhood. We became hyper-vigilant which is a common side effect of trauma and we are very good at picking up on one another’s cues while ignoring our own. We also often tell what we think are hilarious stories of our chaotic childhood only to have our conversation partners stare back at us with big empathetic eyes. This is why I wanted to close by bringing us back to that note about holding space, without judgement, for people to invite you into their stories. Some people are great at seeing need in others but don’t have the same skills when it comes to themselves. One time I told a story to an amazing friend who is an equally amazing listener about a hard thing that happened to me as a teenager. I laughed about it irreverently and she “matched my energy” as they say while staying curious. She asked open ended questions without judgement and I laughed it off because in my mind it wasn’t a big deal anymore and I thought I had processed it, which for the most part is true of the things I joke about! But this time she paused, put her hand on mine and said with a smile,
“I know you are really resilient but what happened to you wasn’t ok. If you ever want to talk about it, I’m here.” And then she let it go. And I did need to talk about it, just not then. If she had of interrupted me and said “woah! that is crazy…” I probably would have been embarrassed for oversharing or making light of something she thought I shouldn’t have. If she had have told me about a time the same thing happened to her (as I have confessed to doing) it would have validated in my ming that it was a normal, crappy thing that happens to teenage girls. Her response in that situation was perfect and led me to opening up about something I hadn’t realized I needed to.

Knowing the right way to respond to another, particularly when they are hurting is hard. But generally, pausing, seeking understanding and looking for ways they are inviting you to respond will serve you well. And if you are looking for practice outside of heavy conversations, I recommend going rollerblading with a friend.