Say Less

“The beginning of love is the will to let those we love be perfectly themselves, the resolution not to twist them to fit our own image. If in loving them we do not love what they are, but only their potential likeness to ourselves, then we do not love them: we only love the reflection of ourselves we find in them”

- Thomas Merton, No Man is an Island

Although my four children now range in age from 20 to 27, I still feel like a perpetual new mother. Each stage of parenting is uniquely challenging, humbling, and insightful. It’s hard to release old patterns and pivot to new ones as babies evolve into toddlers, then kids, then teenagers, then adults. Learning to let go can be messy. My maternal instincts can easily default to overdoing, i.e., fixing, offering unsolicited advice, worrying, and rising and falling on my adult children’s highs and lows. 

A few years ago, when one of my precious people was living at home and going through a very challenging period, I asked for feedback: “How can I best support you right now? Tell me honestly what is helping and what isn’t?” I genuinely wanted to know, and he provided me with some invaluable insights. He assured me that he knew I loved him and was very concerned about his well-being, but that my numerous “pep talks,” in which I would say something one way, and then the same thing another way, and then a third way, were increasing his stress. I was using my words to try to control instead of my ears to listen attentively. He needed space to learn, grow, heal, and figure out for himself his own path forward.  

I took that feedback to heart and recognized in myself my own discomfort with allowing journeys and conversations to unfold without me jumping in to fill the pauses or offer solutions and my own perspectives.  I had to confront my own mistaken belief that I always know what is best for my adult sons and daughters. I needed to repent of allowing pride and others' opinions to influence my often shortsighted parental expectations. Additionally, I became acutely aware of my lack of trust in God to hear my prayers and work everything out for good—not according to my preferred timing, but His. I reflected on how micromanaging others impedes their growth and prevents me from tending to my own inner garden.

"Most people do not listen with the intent to understand; they listen with the intent to reply."

- Stephen R. Covey

In my life coaching program, these new insights were supported and expanded upon by a myriad of tools, resources, and studies demonstrating the transformative power of active listening and strategic questioning to help clients achieve clarity, harness their strengths, and overcome obstacles on their own. It takes focus and patience to lay aside your own agenda and listen to what is behind the words- reflecting back what was said and the emotions observed to enable someone to hear themselves more clearly.  Being heard, truly and fully heard, without judgment or interruption, is something we all long for. I cannot tell you how many times that just being heard and understood was enough to get me back on my feet and unstuck from my own paralysis.  

“This is why, in a nutshell, advice is overrated. I can tell you something, and it’s got a limited chance of making its way into your brain’s hippocampus, the region that encodes memory. If I can ask you a question and you generate the answer yourself, the odds increase substantially.”

- Michael Bungay Stanier, The Coaching Habit: Say Less, Ask More & Change the Way You Lead Forever 

I’m far from perfect at listening more and speaking less, but I am actively working on improving my listening skills and entrusting my kids to God. Recently, I went for a walk with my daughter and set my intention to detach in an emotionally healthy way. I aimed to give her the space to express herself without inserting my own thoughts and to set aside all mental distractions so I could be fully present for her. I was amazed by how much she shared openly and how peaceful I felt throughout our conversation. 

“Young adults long for someone to be curious about them, to draw them out and to try and connect deeply through good questions.”

- Heather Holleman, “The Six Conversations: Pathways to Connecting in an Age of Isolation and Incivility” 

The more I discover about and personally experience the healing power of compassionate attentiveness, the more inspired I am to treat every interaction as an opportunity for meaningful connection. With loving curiosity grounded in humility, I approach others as a learner rather than a judge. This mindset opens doors, builds bridges, and brings out the best in everyone.

Every one of us is in the image of God, and every one of us is like a damaged icon. But if we were given an icon damaged by time, damaged by circumstances, or desecrated by human hatred, we would treat it with reverence, with tenderness, with broken-heartedness. We would not pay attention primarily to the fact that it is damaged, but to the tragedy of its being damaged. We would concentrate on what is left of its beauty, and not on what is lost of its beauty. And this is what we must learn to do with regard to each person as an individual, but also – and this is not always as easy – with regard to groups of people, whether it be a parish or a denomination, or a nation. We must learn to look, and look until we have seen the underlying beauty of this group of people. Only then can we even begin to do something to call out all the beauty that is there. Listen to other people, and whenever you discern something which sounds true, which is a revelation of harmony and beauty, emphasize it and help it to flower. Strengthen it and encourage it to live.

- Met. Anthony Bloom