Looking With Your Ears

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This is where all good, growth-filled mentoring begins.

Personally.

Organizationally.

Yes, there can be many entry points into mentoring.  But…the best of mentoring always begins with listening.

Recently on a business trip, I sat next to a younger man who had the appearance and attitude of a hip “go getter.”  He, being just about 40 years younger than my 72 years, gave me a slight look of disdain that he just might have to suffer through our whole flight sitting next to an olde man.

I smiled inside.  Always curious, I wondered what his story might be.  He pulled out his earbuds, plugged them into his iPod, settled back and began to drum on his lap to the beat of the music he was hearing.  Like, Mister, I’m chilling out.

No prob.  I had a book to read anyway.

What I didn’t realize is that he was also reading my book from the position I was holding it.  About 20 minutes into the flight he flipped off one earbud and asked, right out of the blue, “So what do you do?”

“I’m a leadership mentor.”

“What’s that about?  What do you mean by mentoring?  Coaching?  Fixing people who can’t fix themselves?  Getting people out of trouble?  What is mentoring anyway?”

“You just asked six fairly good questions.  Is one of those more important to you than any other?  My name’s Wes.  What’s yours?”

“Jason.”

“May I ask you two more questions?  People who ask good questions inspire me just a bit.  It’s people with a good curious mind. like yours, that ask good questions.  We could talk for a long time with what all you asked.  Where did you learn to ask those kind of questions?”

With that we began a conversation that went on for about ten minutes.  He even turned off his music.  “Is there any secret to mentoring?” he asked.

“No, no secret, but there is a first step to really good mentoring.”

“What’s that?”

“May I ask you one more question, and that might help give you an answer you can really take with you.”

“Go ahead.”

By this time in the journey his attitude had changed.  He had asked me about the book.  Told me more about his being in the apparel industry for a major retailer.  Began talking more than I think he expected to.  Then caught the fact that I had wanted to ask him one more question.

“What were you going to ask me?  I usually don’t talk this much on a flight.  I was pretty determined to just veg.”

“You’ve done a great job of briefly telling me what you do, what you like to do in your spare time, where you want to go snowboarding this year, where you went to school, why you got into the job you have.  All that is good to know.  But you haven’t told me who you are in the midst of all you are doing with your time and life?”

For a moment he had that look in his eyes that he might have sat next to a nutcase.  However, he asked, “Are you really interested in what I have to say?”

“Yes.  You have a great way of expressing yourself.  But I do have one more question.  In the next 10 to 15 minutes can you tell me who you are?  I now know much of what you do and like, but take a stab at telling me who you are.  I would like that.  You seem to be the kind of man that is up to any challenge”

I paused.  He began.  Forty-five minutes later we were on the approach into Dulles International Airport.  I had hardly said a word, except for clarification.  He had even turned a bit toward me in his seat.  A significant story poured out.

Another announcement for landing took place and jarred him back into the current moment. He then looked hard at me and asked, “What did you ask me?  I’ve never talked to a stranger this much on an airplane.  Ever.  What did you do to me?”

Fortunately, he was laughing with that last question.

“I listened to you, Jason.  You had some really important things to say.  Your capacity for doing good in our world is much larger than you realize.  You’ve had some hard moments, but they haven’t kept you down.  Your curiosity has taken you far.  You are on your way to being one good man.  Thank you for answering my question.  For telling me some of who you are.”

What took place next neither one of us expected.  He looked hard at me, brief tears welling up in his eyes and said, “I don’t remember anyone ever asking me who I am.  No man, no older man, has ever told me I’m a good man.  What did you do to me to get me to talk so much?”

“I listened.  It’s the first and most important step in the good mentoring you asked me about.  This has been a better plane ride than I expected.  Thank you.”

“Hey, man.  I never expected all this.  Thank you.  I won’t forget your questions.”

We deplaned.  I’ve never seen Jason again.

I am in a continuing mentoring friendship with individuals who range in age from 22 to 62. They have told me, at depth, who they are through the thick and thin of their own lives. They’ve told me more than they have expected to tell me.

I hold all that very carefully.  In sacred trust.  They have been most generous in allowing me to get some glimpses of their lives.  Who they are.

How?  First I ask questions.  Then listen.  Why?  Because what all I’ve heard in a wide variety of mentoring conversations has helped me to see both the value and significant potential of each emerging person.  From child to adult.

If you and I were to have a conversation, how would you respond.

“Who are you?  Tell me.  I’d like to know.”

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The best of all good mentoring, 
short or long term, casual conversation,
or conversations that go deep into who a person is,
these better conversations
always
begin with listening.

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