Sometimes I am asked to help other people to improve their listening skills. My profession exposes me to the risk of thinking of listening mainly as a subjective ability, something that can be trained, partly linked to personal predisposition.
But when I actually listen, and when listening becomes a tool necessary for a job in which you approach people and situations in order to create change, I notice that it is a skill that varies over time, expressed by a subjective intention or created by the circumstances. Part of it comes from within, while part of it you suddenly find next to you, almost by chance. Listening is a travel companion.
On the other hand, you really listen when you meet someone who wants or needs to be listened to, or in order to find something that might be important and seems to have been missed.
Listening, an unreliable companion, has accustomed me to perceiving a company in terms of history and geography.
I quickly realised that I found it fascinating (and still do) to listen to the stories of individuals and groups. Colourful tales are transformed into legends that represent a social event or a moment in the evolution of a company or other organisation. Narration gives a linear order to the sequence of events, and unlike reality it has the appeal of cohesion. It tells of forces moving in what, with hindsight, seems to be a well-defined direction. It helps to simplify and give meaning.
But extended opportunities for listening open up another dimension that to me is even richer, the dimension that gives you a glimpse of organisational landscapes characterised by diverse voices, motives and a multitude of trajectories, signs often hidden by the emerging story, territories whose logic and vibrancy can perilously unbalance the system but can also create the conditions for positive change.
In this sense, taking the time to listen allows me to tap into the complexity, change-related tensions and the abundance of knowledge which exists in organisations, in order to bring effective procedures and projects to life.
But it also brings me closer to a fundamental aspect of corporate relations, when they are not merely based on power and hierarchy: mutual recognition. This is a dimension that will emerge if you accept the fact that listening has a certain element of gratuitousness. It asks you to give up your time and yourself without constantly thinking of the ends to be achieved. This way, by dedicating space to other people, you can build substantial relationships, understand and recognise others’ experiences, individual and collective identities. It is also a way to enable the listener to engage and achieve recognition in his own right.