Shortly before my wife and I got married, we had one final interview with our minister as he prepared to officiate our wedding.

During that meeting, he asked each of us to make two lists: the ten characteristics we most admired about our future spouse and the ten character traits we considered our own greatest strengths.

We handed him our lists and waited.

After a few minutes, he mentioned several qualities he thought would serve us well in our marriage. Then he handed back our lists and asked a simple question.

“Do you notice something missing?”

We studied our lists, puzzled. We offered a few guesses. Finally, he stopped us.

“Good listeners.”

Neither of us had included listening on our lists.

We hadn’t even thought about it.

Although we didn’t argue with him, I’m pretty sure we were both sitting there thinking, Well, of course we’re good listeners!

Apparently, we weren’t listening very carefully to his message.

Decades later, I found myself immersed in professional work with schools and collaborative teacher teams. Much of that work centered itself at the heart of professional learning communities—educators working together, communicating effectively, learning from one another, and developing collective agreements about how best to serve students.

And I began noticing something troubling.

During team meetings, colleagues would talk over one another. Interrupt. Point fingers. Defend their own ideas. Rarely ask questions intended to deepen their understanding of what someone else was saying.

Sometimes, when team members were silent, I wondered whether they were listening—or simply preparing what they would say next.

I found myself frustrated. Here we were, asking educators to engage in meaningful collaboration, yet one of the most essential skills for that collaboration seemed to be missing.

Listening.

And I wasn’t quite sure how to help.

Enter Marrisa King.

King, currently a professor at the Wharton School of the University of Pennsylvania, is the author of  Social Chemistry: Decoding the Patterns of Human Connection a few years ago.

In her work, I discovered a concept that has stayed with me.

Deep listening.

Could I become a better listener by learning to listen more deeply?

Three Components of Deep Listening

Research on listening form King and others, offers three important dimensions worth considering.

1. The cognitive component: Do I understand and remember what I hear?

When someone finishes speaking, can I accurately explain what they just told me?

Not what I think they meant. Not what I wish they had said. What they actually said.

2. The behavioral component: Do my actions communicate that I am listening?

Am I present? Am I looking at my phone? Am I distracted by something else in the room?

Do my facial expressions, posture, and other signals communicate attention in ways that are comfortable and meaningful to the person speaking?

3. The affective component: Can I listen without immediately judging?

This one can be particularly difficult.

As someone speaks, how often does my mind begin its own running commentary?

I agree with that.

That’s ridiculous.

What a great idea!

That will never work.

We tried that before.

And before the person has finished speaking, I’ve already decided what I think.

I may have heard the words. But have I really listened?

A Listening Experiment

King describes a practical exercise that I’ve found especially intriguing.

Find someone willing to practice with you—a colleague, friend, family member, or partner.

Invite that person to respond to one simple question:

What is it like to be you today?

Then listen.

Don’t interrupt. Don’t offer advice. Don’t jump in with your own story. Don’t rush to affirm, correct, or solve anything.

Just listen.

And notice what happens inside your own mind.

Do you want to interrupt? Are you preparing your response? Are you silently evaluating what the person is saying?

When your “listening experiment” partner finishes, try three things.

First, check your understanding. Tell the person what you heard. Ask whether you understood correctly or missed something important.

Second, ask about their experience. Did they feel heard? Did your attention and behavior communicate that you were genuinely interested in understanding them?

Third, reflect on your own listening. How difficult was it to suspend judgment? What did you notice about your tendency to advise, interrupt, or redirect the conversation?

Then, if you’re both willing, switch roles.

And experience what it feels like to be listened to.

Despite my intentional actions over the years, I’m still discovering what it means to be a good listener.

Perhaps the most important lesson I am learning is that listening isn’t simply a communication technique.

It is a way of honoring another person’s experience.

When we listen deeply, we make room for someone else’s thoughts, feelings, questions, and stories without immediately inserting our own.

And whether we’re sitting across from a partner, family member, or neighbor at the kitchen table, or with colleagues at a collaborative team meeting, that kind of listening can change the quality of our relationships.

I suspect it may even be one of the pathways toward deeper friendship.

But that’s a conversation for another day.

For now, I’m still working on becoming the kind of listener our minister hoped we would become.

—Tim Kanold

H, S, & J Front Porch Question

This week, invite someone to try the deep-listening exercise with you. Ask, “What is it like to be you today?” Then give them the gift of your undivided attention.

When the conversation ends, ask two questions:

“Did you feel heard?”

“What could I do to listen even better?”