A Scary Wake-Up Call

Deepa was shocked. She began a denial, then smiled and said, “I hadn’t the slightest clue.”

Deepa and I were almost halfway into a six-month coaching engagement. At the outset, I had gathered feedback about her from senior leaders, peers and direct reports. Her report had two resounding themes. First, everyone liked Deepa. She was naturally caring and kind. Second, everyone was desperate for her to improve her listening skills.

Not surprisingly, she and I had talked about listening during every one of our coaching conversations.

During our conversations, she told me about the excitement of growing up in a boisterous family. She told me of having always felt empowered to speak up, in her education and her professional life. That comfort in speaking up, even when she was junior, got positive attention and drew mentors to her. That part of her that was seen as fearlessness served her well as she was competing in the male-dominated world of large-scale construction.

Now, that strength was becoming a liability. As a vice-president overseeing operations, she was dominating rooms in a way that left people feeling unheard. Because she was so well-liked, she hadn’t overdrawn her goodwill bank account yet, but clearly, people wanted her to up her game when it came to listening.

One tool we discussed was self-awareness. Did she know when she was talking and when she wasn’t? Did she know what she was saying? Was she agreeing? Disagreeing? Lecturing? Interrogating?

She discovered that, no, she often didn’t know those things. Her ongoing homework in the coaching was to stretch her listening awareness muscle. She’d reported that she felt she was getting better.

Then, in our coaching conversation, she had asked me a question. I’d responded by saying I had two ideas. Part-way into my first idea, she’d jumped in, interrupting me, then went on a fairly long explanation.

When she finished, I’d asked, “Do you know you interrupted me?”

“I did?” she asked. “When?”

“Just now. When I was answering your question.”

The Humility of Learning

That’s when Deepa was shocked. Her first impulse, to deny it had happened, was simply because her brain had no record of it. But her natural humility kicked in, allowing her to say, “I hadn’t the slightest clue.”

I saw her deflate as her level of unawareness hit her. “This is terrible, Tom. I thought I was doing better!”

“And I’d wager you are sometimes,” I said. “Just not right then with me.”

She smiled. “You’re kind. But this is serious. How can I get better if I don’t even know when I need to get better?”

I gave a little laugh. “That is how you get better, Deepa. By paying attention to what you’re doing. Doesn’t matter what it is. Cooking, driving, managing the books. Getting better starts with self-awareness. You ask yourself, are you getting the results you want? If not, why not?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, “but I can’t seem to even get to the baseline. Look at what just happened. That is not self-awareness.”

I asked, “Deepa, what would it mean if you accepted that that might be true? It might be true that many times a day you interrupt people and haven’t the slightest clue it’s happened. What would that mean?”

She considered the question. “It would mean I’m a beginner. Not a place I like to be at this stage of my career.”

“Because…?” I asked.

“Because it was hard to get here. I don’t want people to think I’m not ready.”

“So, if you were a beginner in your listening skills, it would mean you’re not ready to be a vice-president,” I said.

“No, no, no, of course not,” she said, defensively. Then, immediately, “Well, yes! I worry I’m going to look like I’m not ready if I have to be learning something so basic. It’s humbling.”

I nodded and watched.

Listening Starts with Awareness

She took a breath. I had the image of someone girding herself for battle.

She said, “So, I better be the best damned student ever! Let’s go!” She took another breath and slowed herself down. As if figuring out a recipe, she asked, “If I want steps to be a better listener, would I start with self-awareness? Or have I already missed a step?”

“No, you haven’t,” I answered. “Self-awareness is the first step to being a better listener.”

“Unfortunate, since we already know I suck at it,” she said. “Let’s just stick with this for a minute. What else can I do to get more self-aware?”

I said, “Start with that idea we talked about. Accept that listening is an under-developed muscle that needs your attention. Accept that you interrupt people and at some point, it could cost you. Accept those as truths.

I continued, saying, “Then, assess yourself. Keep a listening journal in your head. Reflect. How did I do on that call? How was that meeting? That conversation? Build your awareness muscle.”

She shook her head with a smile. “I could reflect for a month and still not see what I can’t see.”

I nodded. “I suppose. But if you focus on it, I think your vision will get better.”

She nodded back. “Good point. Okay. Awareness and reflection. What’s next?”

Listening is a Choice

“Choose,” I said. “I remember when I was working on my listening skills. Over and over, I had to consciously choose to focus on what was going on in front of me. It would happen all the time. Something the other person said would trigger a whole movie in my head. The other person would be telling me about their daughter’s adventure and I’m suddenly watching a movie of a trip I took to New Zealand with my daughter.”

Deepa gave a little slap of the table and said, “Yep, happens all the time! All the time!”

“Right? I think we all do it. I taught myself to choose. Did I want to watch the movie or listen to the person in front of me. Choose.”

She said, “So, it’s really self-awareness again.”

“In many ways, yes,” I replied. “You can’t choose if you don’t have any awareness. But I think of the choosing as separate. First, you know it. I know that that movie goes off in my head. That’s the awareness. Then I choose not to take the bait. I choose to stay focused on what’s in front of me.”

“That’s very active,” she said.

“Agreed. Choosing is active.”

“And empowering,” she said. “So, awareness, reflection, choosing, next what?”

“Technique,” I said. “What do you say when you’re listening?”

Two Ways of Active Listening

“’Active listening,’ right?” she said. “We talked about this.”

“Right. What do you remember?”

She ticked on two fingers. “That I can focus on facts. Ask a lot of questions. Without interrupting, of course. Or I could focus on feelings. There was a thing you showed me, how to do that. What did you call it?”

“I don’t know,” I said. “Mirroring?”

“Right,” she said. “You hear what someone is saying, and you repeat it back to them. I did that with my daughter-in-law when they were here last month. It was perfect. I know she thinks I’m bossy. I am bossy. So, a lot of times, she won’t talk when she’s around me. But she started telling me about this series of incidents they had with a family in their neighborhood. She ended up telling me every little detail and I could tell she hadn’t planned to. But I just kept mirroring her and she kept talking. Later on, my son told me she had really liked talking with me.”

“Good for you, Deepa.” I asked, “Was it hard?”

“Not really. It was kind of fun, actually.”

“What did it sound like?” I asked. “Do you remember?”

“Oh, she’d say something like, ‘So and so said such and such and that really pissed me off.’ And I’d say, ‘Did it?’ Or she’d say, ‘So I really told them my opinion.’ And I’d say, ‘Your opinion?’ And she’d keep talking.”

“That’s great,” I said.

“And the other one? The fact-finding thing? I did that in a meeting recently. It was hard not to jump in, but I didn’t. I just kept asking really specific questions and taking a lot of notes.”

“How do you think it was received?” I asked.

“It was a good meeting. We got a lot done. It wasn’t an interrogation, if that’s what you’re worried about. I did what you told me about: listen to the information, sort it, then ask what you need to know. I’ve always been pretty good at that anyway. Impatient, but good.”

“I believe you,” I said.

“So, awareness, reflection, choose, then listen for facts or listen for feelings. Anything else?”

“There’s lots, of course, but the last one I’d put on this list today? Don’t judge. Listen and stay neutral. Don’t evaluate whatever they’ve said. This is their truth. Stay focused on them. Listen. Don’t judge.”

She gave a happy snort. “Fat chance. I understand the reasoning, but really, do people who are good listeners turn off their judgment? Do you?”

I said, “Good listeners don’t stop their critical thinking, no, but they do stop judging what the other person is saying. ‘Oh, she was pissed off, was she? Big baby!’ Or, ‘You gave them your opinion? Bet that was fun!’ No! Don’t judge. Keep yourself out of it. Stay neutral. Listen.”

Deepa said, “It’s really all a head game, isn’t it? Listening, I mean.”

“It’s 100% in your head,” I agreed. “Which is why I know it can be developed. You will get better at this, Deepa.”

And she did. By the time her coaching ended, she was getting positive feedback from all directions. People were excited to be with her. Her natural likability was suddenly enhanced by her emerging capacity to listen, which allowed her to show up with The Look & Sound of Leadership.