Beware Listening Through Stories

The quality of how we listen may leave others deflated — or supported

Four years ago this month, my former partner and I shared parallel messages to let friends know what was happening in our personal lives:

This message let a wider circle of friends know what was happening in our internal worlds, but for most of my interactions with people, for months, when asked, “how are you?” my answer was “good.” Sometimes I’d be more honest and say, “You know, I’m ok today. I have some stuff going on, and I’m not at my best.” Most of the time, all people knew was that I was “good” or “fine.” Like them, I suspect, I gave the answer we all hope to hear, that all is well.

We don’t know what’s going on

Here’s what I have learned: there is no way any of us can know what is going on for someone else by looking at them or even briefly talking to them. It is irresponsible to think that we can.

As I hunkered down to make sure I kept it together during a significant time of transition in my life and made my way through the world, I realized that no one else knows what is going on for me. A handful of people got close and gave me the gift of love and support, but when I went out to get groceries or went to work, I did not have a sign on me telling others what was happening. Even if I did have that sign — 21-year marriage just ended — they would still have no idea what it meant for me. All they have is the story they tell themselves about what that would mean for them.

It is not possible for others to know my experience. And this tells me that when I see others on the street, or in a workshop or at work, it is not possible for me to know their story and what it means to them. I cannot know by looking, and I cannot know by hearing a wee piece of their story. All I have are the stories I tell myself about myself and others.

Your stories may deflate me

The tricky work of being in relationship with others is recognizing that my reaction to what others do and say is my reaction. The stories I tell myself about them are my stories. To show up as my best self with them means I have to be aware of the stories running in my head.

I have learned this because the stories others told themselves about me were not my experience. Here are a few story pieces a handful of people shared directly with me:

• There must be a reason why! There must be someone to blame. Who made this happen?
• You have lost so much! You are alone, without a partner. The end of your marriage is tragic.
• You must be lonely.
• You must not know what to feel, so I will tell you how you must be feeling.
• You must not know what to do, so I will tell you what you need to know. Here’s how to handle money… here’s how to handle the separation agreement… here’s how to handle the kids.

The stories these dear people carried about me and my situation shaped how they offered support. As they listened through their story, they acted in ways that soothed them, not me. Despite good intentions, they were not supporting me at all. What they said and did felt disempowering; I sensed a pre-supposition that I was broken, flawed, that something was now missing in my life that should have been there, that I was incomplete. These stories that are not my own have the power to deflate me — if I let them.

Support is listening for my story

A series of other stories revealed themselves to me that recognized and supported my journey:

• It took courage to acknowledge the need to separate.
• It took courage to enact the separation.
• You are in a time of transition, confusion and metamorphosis.
• The end of a relationship is hard work, and you are capable.
• I am available to listen without judgement and simply be with you.

This set of stories embodied an entirely different way of support because they listened for my story; they were not listening through their story. They put their story aside and made room for me to support me. They trusted that I was fully capable of living through a difficult time. When we spent time together, they gave me space and room to figure out my next steps without inserting their agenda. If they were uncomfortable and upset about my new reality, they were able to put that aside and not let it run the show or our relationship.

Feeling heard and supported

I have a new understanding of what it means to feel heard and supported as we make our way through our lives. For me specifically, it means this:

1. I pay more attention to my state and ability to be with others. If I cannot listen for their story (and only able to listen through my story), I need to remove myself.
2. I pay more attention to the quality of listening in others toward me. If the other can only hear through their story, and I require support, I remove myself. If they are only capable of listening through their story and I am capable of listening for their story, I stick around and be supportive.
3. I choose to notice the stories I tell myself, check if they belong to me and if they are disempowering myself or others.

This listening work is work that never ends.

How I listen changes everything

Before the pandemic, it felt abstract to assume that everyone was going through something. We now know it is the case that everyone is affected in some way; we just don’t know how.

Our COVID world offers us an excellent place to practice the open-heartedness of knowing that everyone else struggles with some kind of change or loss.

I know that my pandemic experience has ranged from intense optimism to low-grade depression, which changes from day to day or moment to moment. I imagine it is the same for everyone else. In the right circumstances, I can shift from being relaxed to angry in a few seconds. So can everyone else.

All of this I keep in mind with friends and family, with strangers at the grocery store, with clients and as my clients and I reach out into the city to find out what is working and what needs improvement. The quality of how I listen to myself, others, and the city changes everything.

Reflection

• Who are the people who can hold you and your story well? How do they do this?
• Who are the people whose story you can hold well? Under what conditions are you able to do this?
• With no self-judgement, who are the people whose story you cannot hold well at this time? What needs to change before you can be able to do this?

This post first appeared at www.bethsanders.ca.