Speaking Less, Listening More

By Jonathan Cullen, Dramatic Resources trainer

“And this next improvisation exercise is crucial: I call it Looking For Gifts.”

It was 15 years ago or more, and Richard Hahlo, one of the founders of Dramatic Resources, was talking me through the programme we were scheduled to deliver at a business school on the shores of Lake Geneva.

I was his newly-recruited assistant and understandably a little nervous, because I was an actor and I’d never done any business coaching before. You might wonder why he’d chosen me; I know I did. The recruitment process had hardly been rigorous - one day in the playground, as we waited to pick up our respective kids from school, Richard asked whether I fancied an expenses-paid trip to Switzerland. It was not an acting job and there was no script to learn, he promised. All it entailed was some spontaneous improvisation. He added that he had an instinct that I’d enjoy it, and be good at it. So, bolstered by his confidence, I decided to take the challenge.

A week later, I was watching Richard as he explained the exercise to a packed auditorium in Lausanne.

“The point to remember is this: there’s Always a Gift in the Room. But you’ll never find that gift by talking - you’ll only find it by listening.”

That beautifully simple statement not only helped me through that first job with Dramatic Resources, but it became a watchword for me through every training since. Today, many years (and I don’t know how many hundreds of coaching sessions) later, I still remind myself to Look for The Gifts.

Because as I watched Richard working the room that day, with his characteristic ease and wit, riffing on the feedback he encouraged from the participants, I could see clearly what he meant: the key to creative engagement with any audience is active listening. To what? Everything that is being communicated - both verbally and non-verbally.

There’s something I have learned to expect over my long career with Dramatic Resources: when I reveal that I am not only today’s coach, but a professional actor, I can almost guarantee that I will be asked one question - usually in the lunch break: “So, what’s your favourite job that you’ve done?”

When I answer, I sometimes describe the directors who speak brilliantly about their vision for the production, or the colleagues whose talent makes them exciting to play a scene with, or the writers who give you wonderful dialogue to learn. But over the years I’ve come to realise that however I choose to answer that question, my most memorable experiences do all have something in common: they are always times where I feel I have been truly, generously heard by a good listener. And that’s an answer which I believe is true for any of us, whatever job we happen to do.

I’ve been thinking a lot about listening since I arrived in the USA as a Permanent Resident Alien, almost a year ago. The move has been a great adventure, but it’s required a huge adjustment on my part, culturally as much as geographically. That old witticism about England and America being ‘two countries divided by a common language’ certainly rings true in my experience.

It’s not so much the different idioms: these I can learn, just like learning any other new language. (“So let me get this clear: your biscuit is what I call a scone, and what I call a biscuit is a cookie, correct? Right, now let’s talk about muffins…”) It’s more to do with my feeling that although I understand all the words, I am often still somehow missing what’s being said. To hear what lies underneath the words, I need to listen harder and more thoughtfully. Like most immigrants, I’ve learned that in this new world, I need to speak less and listen more.

There are differences in behaviour too. Frankly, it has been quite a challenge for this reserved Brit to adjust to the idea that I am now allowed to talk freely and unapologetically to complete strangers - and vice-versa. Sample dialogue: Driver next to me, opening his window to shout: “Hey man – who’s in Paris?” Uptight Brit: “Um… French people, I suppose? I’m not sure what you mean…” Shouting Driver: “Wait – where you from?” He stares at the black cap I’m wearing, which might, I now realise, look like a beret. I am also wearing a striped shirt. Sheepish Brit: “England, actually – sorry!” Delighted Driver: “England? No kidding! That is sick, man!” The lights change and he accelerates away, laughing loudly. At me, or with me? I am still not sure.

Talking to people I don’t know is something I should be good at by now. The participants I greet at the start of a session, whether in the room or online, are almost always strangers (to me and often to each other). I’ve discovered that encouraging participants to listen thoughtfully is as important as encouraging them to speak. Naturally, we don’t always find it easy to let go of our personal agendas and simply be present and attentive. But focused attention is one of the best gifts we can give to our audience, and it is through that gift that we find other gifts in the room, too.

I’ll give the final word to Jerry, another stranger I fell into conversation with this week as I trudged home from the shop (which is called the store here) along the hot pavement (which is called the sidewalk) with my heavy bag of groceries. I watched a car swerve to miss Jerry as he crossed the road ahead. We began by agreeing that you can’t safely text and drive, and from that easy start we got to talking – or should I say, got to listening, for Jerry had much to say about many things. Eventually, we went our separate ways, and then Jerry called after me: “Hey - thanks for listening. You have a listening ear. But you know what’s really important?” He pressed his hand to his chest. “You gotta have a listening heart.”