As unfortunate as it is, everyone will face emotionally challenging times over the course of their lives. Inevitably, we all have to say goodbye to everything we hold dear. For most of us, this will occur in a series of scattered events as we march towards our final breath. When significant loss occurs (and not just with the death of a loved one, though that is certainly part of it), we will be invited into difficult physical-emotional territory. Here, we have two choices: 1) direct physical-emotional engagement the heartbreak, or 2) deploy resistance and/or avoidance strategies—doing everything in our power to not directly experience these painful and sometimes scary physical-emotional responses.
Unfortunately, the second pathway, while useful in providing a temporary and sometimes necessary respite from the arduous task of engaging one’s difficult physical-emotional holdings, avoidance is not a viable strategy in the long run. Just as using a credit card may be a good option if a major repair to your house or car is needed at a time when funds are not currently available, there may be times immediately following a significant loss when you simply cannot fully engage the related difficult emotional material. However, as with financial debt, it is not a good idea to let our psychological debts linger unpaid too long. Sooner or later, the bill comes due, and if you’re not working towards paying off the debt, you will likely find yourself with a larger balance in the future.
Psychologically speaking, our emotional debts also appear to accrue a kind of “interest” over time and often show up as symptoms of increasing depression, anxiety, fatigue, addictive-compulsive behaviors, and a host of other somatic symptoms, to name a few. Unfortunately, despite resolution attempts related to everything from psychotropic medications to positive-psychology prescriptions, unlike financial debt, there does not appear to be any legitimate bankruptcy option for unpaid emotional debts. Thus far I have found that these debts can only be cleared through raw physical-emotional processing in accordance with human design.
In a previous post, What Children Can Teach…, I referenced some of the current statistics regarding our rather poor and declining mental-health climate, including the alarming statistic that suicide is now the 10th leading cause of death in America. In these challenging times, many people (from the mental-health clinician to the concerned friend or family member) are actively doing what they believe is right to help shift this trend in some beneficial way. Afterall, at the core of human nature, there is a desire to help, if not everyone, certainly those whom we are closest to, and as such, how we can best achieve that common goal is the purpose of this writing. While the options are vast, I’d like to encourage developing one skill that is universally helpful when those we care about are going through a difficult time: better listening!
Yes, better listening rises to the top of the list of important and necessary skills to develop, and it is not something that should be reserved for clinicians alone, especially because not everyone has the resources or access to therapy. Whenever I have a client who improves in therapy, and I ask what helped them the most, I often get this type of response: “You listened to me; I felt like you understood and cared about what I was going through.” And while there are certainly cases (such as with working with severe trauma), where high-quality listening alone may not be sufficient in helping someone fully resolve their symptoms, in every case, even the most difficult, I find good listening to be 100% necessary as a foundation and precursor for a successful therapeutic outcome. I also believe that if everyone (again, not just professional counselors) worked to improve their listening capacity, we would see substantial improvements in general well-being and mental health throughout society.
On the surface, this may sound overly simplistic, or like something most people already do, but the type of listening I’m referring to is a little deeper and asks a bit more of us than many people are currently comfortable with. Here, I am referring to a kind of listening where the primary objective is understanding (versus trying to fix or offer a solution). To achieve this kind of understanding, we must accurately register and be able to articulate the difficult emotional context the person is experiencing. And while there is some initial discomfort with any new behavior like this, what makes this most challenging is the level of vulnerability and intimacy required, and many people today are afraid to enter that territory. But with adequate capacity, this approach leads people to feeling seen, understood, and loved, and the healing potential transcends most therapeutic interventions.
In a moment, I will describe the listening technique. If, after a little practice you find that you are still having difficulty capturing the deeper inner experience of the other, or you are having a difficult time staying present, or you are noticing a desire to change the subject, or you find yourself jumping to advice-giving or fixing, then it is likely that the emotional territory is currently outside your window of tolerance. In these cases, this does not mean the skill is outside of reach or that it shouldn’t be practiced; instead, it usually means that some personal therapy may be needed before the emotional intensity can be tolerated in a way that makes the skill easier to employ.
Good listening involves a two-step process: 1) reflection, and 2), question (note: we only ask questions after reflections). Simply put, with step one, this means you periodically share (reflect) the challenge the person is having as you are hearing/sensing/understanding it. Then, if necessary, you can follow the reflection with a question. This might be to simply clarify if you are understanding correctly, but it can also be a prompt for further exploration or consideration regarding the challenge or dilemma.
Here are a couple examples of what this reflection/question formula looks like in action. First, imagine a friend who is expressing some dissatisfaction with their career and thinking of making a change. In this case, after hearing more about this dilemma, our reflection might be: “It sounds like you are really torn right now. Part of you wants to quit your job and follow your passion, but you’re concerned about losing everything you’ve sacrificed so much for if it doesn’t work out.” Often, this is all that’s needed and the other person takes it from there while we return to listening for the next reflection we might offer. Or, we could add a more specific question at the end of the reflection, for example: “If you had to make the decision right now, what do you think you might choose?” Responses like these demonstrate we are paying attention and that we are trying to understand the person’s world more than being concerned about telling them what to do (which people rarely appreciate). Many times, when we find ourselves stuck in life, there may not be a win-win option or a risk-free proposition. We may feel great pain by forgoing one thing to pursue something else, even when the change could be better in the end. In instances like this, there may be no way of avoiding difficulty and we may be more helpful offering compassionate support/understanding while they search to find their own, best option.
Next, here is an example of a reflection with a clarifying question we might offer someone who recently lost a loved one: “I’m so sorry! I’m hearing how incredibly heart-broken and devastated you are right now. I’m guessing that it feels like this pain could never end? I would be happy to sit here with you while you process a little more of these difficult feelings, so you don’t have to be alone with them. Would that be helpful right now?” Again, in an example like this, the most we could possibly do to “fix” the problem is to listen from a place of genuine care and concern (if that isn’t there, the technique won’t help much), while encouraging the free physical-emotional expressions that often surface in times like these.
Our bodies have innate healing and recovery mechanisms, and those include the physical expression of difficult emotional states. Our job as helpers is to support and encourage this natural function and good listening can activate them. Yes, this means that responses such as tears, shaking, sweats, or even nausea-induced vomiting can be among our healing expressions, and if they show up, we can be a wonderful support to those who are going through these difficult expressions by being present, compassionate, and understanding until the experience resolves on its own.
If we can be a good listener and maintain presence for someone in times like these, we will indeed be very helpful to that individual and their process of recovery. However, saying things like, “It’s going to get better,” or “Just look at all the things you still have to be grateful for,” will likely leave them feeling even more isolated and alone than they already do. Comments like these, even if well-intended, often leave people feeling worse, and I regularly hear comments from clients describing this. We may not realize it, but when we say things like, “Things will get better,” we are often saying to them, “I’m uncomfortable with where you are now, and I can’t be with you in this space.” When we say things like, “Look at all you still have to grateful for,” we come across as saying, “You shouldn’t be feeling this way,” which will likely further isolate that individual (I also spoke of these tendencies in my most recent post: I Want You to Be Happy…).
In this regard, I encourage everyone to be very careful with the pervasive tendency to make everything “positive.” A more genuine and authentic “positive” emotional state will occur down the road because of going through the difficult physical-emotional experience or grieving process when applicable. Many people seem to have a fear that encouraging others to move towards their darker emotions will leave them stuck in that terrible place; however, that does not appear to be the case for the majority of people who have the courage to see their pain through without resisting or avoiding it. Unfortunately, the opposing option of immediately jumping to the fictitious land of perpetual positivity shuttled by the gratitude-at-all-cost attitude we’re all socially encouraged to adopt is often what keeps people stuck in their pain, further promoting the manifestation of the physical and psychological symptoms described earlier.
As a final tip, which might be overlooked in the examples I gave above, when reflecting back to those we are listening to, I recommend avoiding absolute language, such as: “I know what you are going through,” which often feels offensive and shuts down conversation. Instead, I recommend using language that is a little less authoritative and leaves room for disagreement (where we also have room to get it wrong). Using reflections that begin with, “I’m wondering,” “I’m sensing,” “I’m imagining,” or “I’m guessing” before we describe the feeling is often much kinder and easier to hear. Saying something like, “I’m guessing you are feeling devastated right now,” versus “I know you are feeling devastated right now,” just lands better. Further, with the first response, if we miss the target, the person will often correct us, adding something like, “No, actually it’s more fear that I’m feeling than anything right now,” and the dialog will continue, but once we start saying we know another’s experience, the conversation is likely coming to a close, leaving the person feeling more isolated and alone.
Carl Rogers, one of the most influential psychologists in American history, was one of the first to discover the power of deep listening, which he beautifully articulated in his last book, A Way of Being:
“I have noticed that the more deeply I hear the meanings of this person, the more there is that happens. Almost always, when a person realizes he has been deeply heard, his eyes moisten. I think in some real sense he is weeping for joy. It is as though he were saying, ‘Thank God, somebody heard me. Someone knows what it’s like to be me.’ In such moments I have had the fantasy of a prisoner in a dungeon, tapping out day after day a Morse code message, ‘Does anyone hear me? Is anybody there?’ And finally one day he hears some faint tappings which spell out ‘Yes.’ By that one simple response he is released from his loneliness; he has become a human being again. There are many, many people living in private dungeons today, people who give no evidence of it whatsoever on the outside, where you have to listen very sharply to hear the faint messages from the dungeon.”[1]
With this in mind, the next time someone close to you is going through a difficult time, be sure to listen with the intent of deeper understanding and you will likely be more helpful and appreciated than you could have imagined.
References:
[1] Rogers, Carl R. A Way of Being. Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1995.