Listen

"A wise old owl sat in an oak. The more he heard the less he spoke. The less he spoke, the more he heard. The more he heard, the more he learned. Now wasn't he a wise old bird?"

Legendary basketball coach and leadership icon, John Wooden, who recently passed away at age 99, would often share the homily above, learned in grade school, when asked why more people weren't better leaders.  "They don't listen," Wooden would say.  "Listening is the best way to learn.  You have to listen to those you are supervising."   

The number one request I get for workplace training is repeatedly to 'help us improve how we communicate.'  It stands to reason.  Communication is arguably the most important skill in life.  Just think of how many hours we spend communicating through reading, writing, speaking or listening.  And of these top four ways we communicate, Wooden, and scores of others, rank listening as the #1 key to our effectiveness as a communicator.

Yet, if you're like me, your grade school lessons on listening weren't quite as inspiring as little John Wooden's.  Mine were more like: "Cindy! Sit down, shut up and listen!"  (Followed by once having to teach the math lesson because my incessant chatter apparently communicated that I knew more about pi than Mr. Chilson did.) 

Yes, hour upon hour was devoted in elementary school, high school and college to teaching us how to write, read, and speak.  But I can't remember one lesson on how to listen.  Listening beyond just hearing; beyond just listening long enough so I can tell you what I think when you shut up.  I mean listening in a way that will help me to better understand you first -- before I ever begin to get you to understand me.

Author Stephen Covey calls it empathetic listening.  In his best selling book, 'The 7 Habits of Highly Effective People', he recommends we listen not only with our ears -- but also with our eyes and our hearts.  We must listen for feeling and for meaning.  We must listen for behavior.  We must sense and feel the person we're listening to.  Because when we listen like this, we open ourselves to a deeper understanding of life from the point of view of those we're listening to.  In a sense, we put on their glasses and see life through their eyes.  And only then, when we've allowed their perspective to influence us, do we have any shot at influencing them.  That's why it's such a critical skill for leadership success.  You want to improve how you communicate?  Widen your influence as a leader?  Start by improving how you listen.

I have begun to be more purposeful in applying this prescription to my own life.  Because I make my living teaching others, it becomes especially frustrating when my own son doesn't do what I say -- and I teach him for free!  Indeed, it is a humbling experience when you're hired to help change behaviors in workplaces and can't seem to change some of the behaviors in your own household. 

So I took Mr. Wooden's, Mr. Covey's, and even my math teacher Mr. Chilson's, advice.  I SHUT UP and started to listen.  My first experiment came when helping my son move into a new college apartment and I listened to the music pouring from his stereo.  Gulp.  (Note to self: you're just listening Cindy, not speaking!)

I soon realized I needed to turn off my ears and start listening with my eyes.  I saw no refrigerator or stove...but there was a vacuum!  And good lord, it had been used!  I saw food organized in the cupboards, clothes hung neatly in the closet, shoes precisely lined up on the floor, and a roll of paper towels IN ITS HOLDER.  When I asked to use a pair of scissors, I heard 'second drawer down in the kitchen' and sure enough, there they were!  Right beside loads of other tools he had purposely placed in that drawer.

And when I turned the corner, I listened with my heart.  There before me was a bed he had made up for guests.  The bed linens neatly pulled across the mattress, not a wrinkle in sight; an extra blanket perfectly folded at the foot of the bed; two pillows propped up at the head, and centered in front of them, was an accent pillow shaped like a football, taken from his bedroom at home.  Despite my millions of previous attempts to stand over my son and demand he 'pick up this room and make your bed,' it never once looked as beautiful as this.

Like the businesses who come to me, my personal hope on the homefront has been to improve how I communicate with my son.  My effectiveness took a big leap forward when I started to listen.

What I heard with my eyes and my heart were far more powerful than what I could ever hear with my ears.  I heard a son who said "I love you Mom," through the smile on his face after seeing me smile at the sight of his bed -- and his organized apartment.  Not a word was spoken.  But for the first time in a very long time, we heard each other loud and clear.