The Art of Listening

What I’ve Learned as a Therapist

Talking is overrated. Listening is underrated.

We praise people who speak eloquently, who can command a room, who have presence. The extroverts. The storytellers. The people who seem effortlessly confident—who can say all the right things at the right time. In school, we get graded on how well we present our thoughts. We have entire curriculums designed to teach communication. But hardly anyone teaches the other half of the conversation: how to actually listen.

And I don’t mean listening to follow instructions or to wait your turn. I mean the kind of listening that helps someone feel seen. The kind that stays with them for days. The kind where someone walks away thinking, I don’t know what it was, but I felt safe with them.

We spend so much energy rehearsing what to say. We read about how to express ourselves, how to set boundaries, how to make our point. But almost no one teaches us how to receive what someone else is trying to say. For me, that moment of realization didn’t happen until I was 23, sitting in Foundations of Mental Health Counseling. I remember thinking: Wait... this is what real listening looks like? I was grateful, yes—but also frustrated. Why had no one shown me this earlier?

So today, I want to share what I’ve learned as a therapist. Because listening well is more than a skill. It’s a form of connection. And when it’s done right, it can change lives.

Listening builds connection. And connection builds trust.

Think of listening as one of the main roads into someone’s inner world. It’s how we respond to emotional bids. It’s how we show people that their experiences matter. When someone feels truly understood—when they know you’re not just hearing words, but making the effort to understand what’s beneath them—it shifts the entire relationship. People who feel heard soften. They open up. They begin to trust.

The challenge is, most people don’t know what listening looks like. Saying “I understand” doesn’t always land. In fact, sometimes it sounds hollow. That’s because real listening isn’t about what you say—it’s about what you show. So here are the four techniques I use every day in therapy to help people feel understood.

1. Minimal encouragers

These are the small, nonverbal cues that say, I’m here and I’m listening. They include soft eye contact, slow nods, leaning in just slightly, or offering a quiet “mhmm” when appropriate. They’re subtle, but powerful.

People can feel when your attention drifts. They can sense when you're mentally somewhere else, waiting for your turn or checking out. When your body language communicates presence—when your face, your posture, and your energy say “I care”—the person across from you feels it. These small signals don’t require perfection. They just require your presence. And that presence might be the most valuable thing you give all day.

Think of minimal encouragers as the foundation. They’re the signals that let the other person know you're actually there with them. Without that felt presence, the rest of the listening skills—reflection, empathy, validation—won’t land. They’ll feel hollow. These cues are what open the door for the other listening skills to work.

2. Reflection

This is where listening becomes active. Reflection means repeating back what someone has said—not word for word, but in a way that captures the meaning behind their words. It’s not parroting. It’s mirroring their experience in your own words.

If someone says, “I can’t believe she did that,” you don’t simply echo, “You can’t believe she did that.” Instead, you reflect with something like, “It sounds like you felt betrayed and maybe even hurt by what she did.” Reflection communicates: I’m not just hearing you—I’m trying to understand you.

One helpful method I learned from the book Motivational Interviewing is to silently ask yourself: Do you mean that you…? Then use your answer to shape the reflection[1]. If someone says, “I’ve had it with that coworker,” you might reflect, “Sounds like you’re completely drained from dealing with them.” If you get it right, the person will likely say, “Exactly.” If you miss the mark, they’ll correct you. Either way, you’re moving closer to their inner world. Reflection takes practice, and you won’t always nail it—but the effort to understand someone deeply is always felt.

3. Empathy

Empathy is imagining what it might feel like to be in someone else’s shoes. It’s not agreement, and it’s not about fixing things. It’s about allowing yourself to sit beside someone emotionally and saying, “That makes sense. I get it.”

Often, we resist empathy because we’re uncomfortable with other people’s pain. We want to rescue. We want to offer solutions and silver linings. But empathy isn’t about saving someone—it’s about staying with them. That’s hard, but it’s where the healing happens.

A useful strategy here is to take an educated guess at what the person is feeling—and if you’re unsure, always guess the less intense emotion. If someone is clearly upset, try, “You seem really frustrated.” If they correct you and say they were furious, that’s okay. But if you overstate and guess too strongly, it can feel off or even invalidating.

You can strengthen empathy by adding context: “You were frustrated because your coworker ignored your input again during the meeting.” When you pair emotion with reason, you create understanding. Simple, one-word emotions work best—like sad, overwhelmed, nervous, relieved—and adding a clear “because” helps the other person feel known on a deeper level.

4. Validation

Validation means letting someone know that their feelings make sense. Not their thoughts. Not their decisions. Just their emotion. And this distinction matters.

Let’s say someone says, “Life is pointless. I don’t think things will ever get better.” You don’t validate that thought by saying, “You’re probably right.” But you can validate the feeling behind it. “Given what you’ve been through, it makes complete sense that you’re feeling hopeless right now.” That’s validation. It tells the person: You’re not broken for feeling this way. Your emotions are real, and they make sense in context.

Even if someone made a questionable decision—like not studying for an exam—you don’t need to validate the action. But you can still say, “I imagine you felt overwhelmed and maybe didn’t know where to start.” That type of emotional validation can reduce shame and open the door to honest reflection.

When in doubt, go back to the basics. One-word emotions like sad, tired, anxious, angry, or ashamed—and then reflect why those feelings are understandable. That’s the heart of validation.

Listening isn’t flashy. But it is healing.

When you bring together these four skills—minimal encouragers, reflection, empathy, and validation—you offer something rare: your full attention. You offer someone the chance to feel heard in a way they may not have felt in years.

People often thank me in therapy—not because I gave them advice, but because I listened. I let them talk. I gave them space. And even though I’m honored by that, it breaks my heart a little. Because deep listening shouldn’t be rare. It should be a basic part of how we relate to each other.

Every person who learns to listen better—who shows up with presence and care—helps repair the disconnection so many people feel today. If you want to build stronger relationships, this is the place to start. You don’t need the perfect words. You just need to be present. The rest will follow.

References:

[1] Miller, W. R., & Rollnick, S. (2012). Motivational Interviewing: Helping People Change (3rd ed.). New York: Guilford Press.