The Quiet Way 

He came in angry; his body language screamed as he sat down. He sat down, put his down and refused to make eye contact. A shake of the head quietly demonstrated a deep anger and frustration. The rage and frustration he felt was visible by his leg shaking and his heavy sighs. He was brought to his session and did not know he had one; he had only learned about an hour before he was to be here. He had plans and now these plans were ruined. While I tried engaging in deescalation techniques, to draw out the emotional processing that was so desperately needed, I fell short and ultimately chose to work on my breathing, paying attention to how my agenda was getting in the way and to instead, listen and make space for the emotions that were filling my office. I would affirm that I was not mad at the emotions or the lack of engagement. And after about 45 minutes of sitting in silence, I ended the session, again with the affirmation that I was not mad and looked forward to seeing him in three weeks. Quietly, I blessed him and sent him on his way.  

Listening is a process of becoming, if worked on, if cultivated like a beautiful garden full of perennials that bloom each year and fill a space each passing year.  

The Essence of Spiritual Listening 

We are taught as Benedictines to listen with the ears of our hearts. I often tell my clients that we listen as much with our eyes and our bodies as we do with our own ears. We can feel other’s emotions, and we can see these emotions in people’s body postures, especially when we look at micro expressions in the face. When we are listening beyond our ears, we attune to the presence we bring with another person. When we consciously make space for someone’s emotions and experiences, without judgment or agenda, we cultivate humility and openness in ourselves. This practice enables us to engage more fully, allowing others to feel seen and heard. In doing so, we transform the ordinary act of listening into a deeply spiritual exchange that honors both our own humanity and the humanity of those we encounter. 

Barriers to True Listening 

Listening is costly; it exacts the price of humility and vulnerability. Receptive listening demands a kind of confession: “I don’t already know everything I need to know about myself, about the person sitting across from me, about the world, and about God.” Listening requires acknowledgment of limits to our experience and wisdom. Hearing the truth in love depends on our letting down our defenses, laying aside our preconceptions, suspending, at least temporarily, our prior conclusions, giving up our prejudices, and opening ourselves to the possibility of our being changed by what we hear. 

In our world today, we are very emotionally immature, several generations of men have been told that “boys don’t cry” and this has led to a huge problem with emotional reactivity and the use of very impractical defense mechanisms. These men and often their wives or girlfriends end up in my office, and we wrestle with and re learn not only to listen more effectively but also feel more deeply – becoming more in tune with our emotional selves.  

Finally, the other big barrier to listening is our phones and other electronic means that have severely shortened our attention span. Whereas our attention span used to be 12 seconds, I recently heard that it was now down to 8.25 seconds. We no longer see or hear people deeply.  

Practices to Deepen Listening 

To practice deep listening is to walk along the quiet way. People often ask me if I ever listened to music when I ran my long distances, the answer was never or almost never. There is something peaceful about long hours of silence, wrestling with your own thoughts. There is something even more powerful in inserting silence into heavy conversation or when people are anticipating a long, wordy prayer. Deep listening is a mindful practice that takes years to cultivate.  

God is always teaching, we as faithful subjects, must we open to listening. This line from the Friends Journal struck me as I was researching for this post, “speak as if God is listening. Listen as if God is speaking. Speak as if the Spirit is speaking through you. Listen as if Spirit is listening through you.” 

We begin to learn to listen deeply when we cultivate a practice of silence. Silence is hard in our noisy world right now. We must embrace silence as a sacred space. Yesterday, I had the opportunity to get out on the trails and snowshoe for about 5 miles. The silence and desolation of the winter wonderland gave my soul much space to contemplate life, a practice I cherish deeply. Other practices that I teach are mindful breathing and grounding techniques. Collectively, actively affirming and validating other’s feelings also cultivates the practice of deep listening.  

In the quiet way, the journey of listening is never complete; it is a lifelong invitation to return to presence, humility, and receptivity. When we allow silence to speak, and honor another’s story without interruption or judgment, we embody a radical acceptance that has the power to heal old wounds and foster genuine connection. Deep listening asks us not only to hear the words spoken, but also to sense the unspoken longings and hopes that linger in the air between us. As we refine this art, we become more attuned to the subtle rhythms of relationship and the gentle whisper of spirit moving through our everyday encounters, drawing us ever deeper into compassion and understanding.