What do you do when your child is hurting and you can’t make the pain go away?
That was my question last night when my oldest daughter called me with bad news: she was rejected from yet another law school. That’s a rejection from every school so far. My heart sank as I listened to her voice become shaky and her confidence crumble. As a mom, my job is to protect her, guard her, teach her, guide her . . . so many things I am supposed to do and so many tasks I can confidently check off my to-do list of raising children, proud of the work I put in. However, I could not protect her from this. I could not shield her from denial and rejection, or from questioning her worth. What kind of mom was I?
At that moment, when I wanted to get on the phone with those law school admissions people and give them a piece of my mind, I instead went against my visceral reaction and slowly quieted my heart and began to listen. My daughter poured out her doubt, her worry, and her rejection and I did the only thing I could do: I drank it in. I gulped it all in hoping with every word she uttered I could take that pain and carry it for her. She cried, she questioned, and she blamed. I listened. My way of listening was not through dialogue but instead through a deep understanding of who I wanted to be as a parent. This parenting approach I call The Nod.
After two decades of teaching in the classroom, raising my children, and now working as a parent consultant, I have learned a thing or two about listening. Much of what I learned went against my instinct to instruct, lecture, and guide. Over the years, I found my response to pain and suffering was to try to solve the problem at hand—and I would bulldoze over the feelings and emotions of those talking to me. They offered an experience and I was right there ready to tell them how to feel better and offer advice. They complained about something that happened and I was there to question and psychoanalyze. It never worked.
Then one day, I learned what it felt like to be with somebody who just listened and let me pour my heart out. It was then I understood what deep listening was. To actively listen and validate somebody’s pain is intense, but it is an honor. People often do not need us to solve their problems—only to share the burden of the experience. This can be done with The Nod and an acknowledgment of their feelings with a sound or a word such as, “Oh,” a sigh, or “I see.”
Last night, I actively listened to my daughter as she shared her experience. And even though all I wanted to do was tell her how to feel better and how to pick herself up off the floor so she no longer hurt, I silenced my words and listened. I offered an opportunity to shoulder the burden of the emotional disappointment, and I did The Nod while sighing. She cried and she released, and when we were ready to get off the phone, my daughter said, “Thanks Mom, for letting me vent.”
I can not protect her from being rejected from her final admissions, but I can make sure she is not alone on this journey. I’ve realized being a mother is not just guiding and readying our offspring for society, rather it’s an opportunity to show our children the human connection in suffering.
Parenting is hard. Listening is hard. Nodding and offering validation through a word or a sound makes our children’s lives just a little bit easier. I urge you to embrace this new way of listening today. Practice The Nod with the next person who crosses your path. Just as our children grow, we need to grow—and growing into a new way of being takes practice. Practice, patience, and practice. Take this and see how you can lighten someone’s burden, and let’s make the world a little gentler, one listening ear at a time.