“It is widely known that there is a crisis of confidence in the professionals Almost every skill and trade has become a profession for status, for standards and for money. The crisis is largely related to a lack of trust in delivery of the profession. The professional who was once upon a time seen as the most honorable person one could find, is now seen as the new self serving businessman.

One of the functions of being a person as well as a professional is to survive, to be able to pay bills, keep updating knowledge and satisfy the human needs that include feeding and housing self and family. The second function which is not a runner up, but actually considered as critical for defining a human being is the need for transcendence. The ability to go beyond the self. In Positive Psychology Martin Seligman has repositioned the direction for well being away from satisfying self to appreciation. This shift is a defining moment in the history of human educational development. The shift takes us away from the survival element of human needs, the focus on fear, on anxiety and on depression, towards a focus on the transcendent part of being human, developing awareness and practices that go beyond self centeredness. Many people knew this from the beginning of time, but for many reasons including the rise of the professional, this wisdom of compassion, generosity and kindness did not make it to the professional standards and competency list.

It is well known that many years ago, when a person went to their doctor with signs of stress, grief, depression or sadness, one of the recommendations was a change of scenery, (an experience of appreciation, and beauty) and to do some volunteer work, help others in need. (an experience of kindness, expanding beyond the self, generosity) The Psychologist Eric Erickson created a term to describe this stage of life from the mid 40’s to the mid 60’s. He named it Generativity vs Stagnation. Generativity is the concern for guiding the next generation based on what one has discovered was beneficial in one’s own life. It takes us about 40 years to have enough experience and time to discover what really matters and Eric Erickson saw that successful and well adjusted elderly people were people who looked back over their lives and recognized where they had received benefit, where it came from and had the desire to give back, to keep the appreciation on a journey.”

Dan Gottlieb, Ph.D., author of
The Wisdom of Sam: Observations on Life from an Uncommon Child

Thirty years ago I was driving alone down the Pennsylvania Turnpike on a brisk December morning when I looked into the sky and saw a massive black sphere barreling down on my car. Several days later I was told that black sphere was the tire of a large truck driving the other way. The tire broke loose, bounced across the highway and crushed my car. I heard this news while I was in intensive care shortly after I discovered I was a quadriplegic and would spend the rest of my life in a wheelchair.

As you can imagine, the pain, both physically and emotionally, was unbearable — especially in those early days. But the greatest pain I felt was the alienation that inevitably comes in the wake of trauma. I watched my fellow humans doing things I could never do again and wondered if I would ever be one of them. Making matters worse, most of my friends, family and doctors talked to me differently than they had just a couple of weeks earlier. I could hear the anxiety in their voice and feel the difference in our relationship. It was as though they felt I wasn’t Dan anymore, I was someone different. And I wondered that also.

People came into my room and tried to make me feel better. They told me how fortunate I was that I had two children, that I could return to my career as a psychologist and there were people who loved me. All of this “support” made me feel worse and reinforced my belief that nobody would ever understand me again.

I wrote a column for the Philadelphia Inquirer for 15 years. My most popular column was entitled “Four words that could change the world.” In it, I was confident that these four words could cut down on the incidence of divorce and even elevate the level discourse in international relations. And those four words?

Tell me your story.

Look someone in the eye and say those four words. Then listen quietly for as long as the other person wants to talk. Don’t think about what you are going to say next when they are done, and don’t react to whatever frustration, helplessness or discomfort you might be feeling as you are listening. Don’t react to whatever value judgments you may or may not be having. Just listen to their story. And one other thing. Try to imagine living that person’s life and having that story as yours.

You do that, and neither one of you will ever be the same again. It’s called compassion, literally “feeling into” another persons experience. And we know that acts of compassion not only feel good, they release hormones in the brain that make us feel pleasure and generous of spirit.

After several weeks, a friend and colleague came to visit and when we were alone, she said, “Dan, tell me what it’s really like?” I cried so hard I couldn’t speak. This woman cared enough to sit with me and try to feel my life. Since that time, I tell people that when I am in a dark tunnel I want someone who loves me enough to sit there with me and not stand outside telling me how to get out.

Two months after my accident, I was back in the intensive care unit. During those early months I learned about more things I would have to live without, more illnesses I would endure, how I was at risk for bowel and bladder accident, pneumonia and skin breakdown. And on top of all that, I kept getting ill and going back into the hospital. I felt sick, crippled and of no value in this world.

So there I was in that that bed with a catheter, intravenous fluids and my head and neck immobilized so all I could do was stare at the ceiling. And my only wish was to go to sleep and never wake up when the nurse approached me. She knew I was a psychologist and asked if we could talk when her shift was over. Of course I said yes.

Later that evening she pulled up a chair and began to tell her story of loss and despair. She was feeling depressed, hopeless and very alone. And, like me, she didn’t know if she could go on like this.

She was in so much pain, she didn’t care about my spinal cord injury or even my despair, she just cared about whether I could help her. And for the first time since my accident, I didn’t care about my problems, I just cared about whether I could help her. And because I understood so deeply what she was experiencing, I was able to listen to her with great compassion and understanding.

At the end of our meeting, she was crying with gratitude as I referred her to a therapist. And I felt very tenderhearted, grateful for her trust. I slept that night for the first time knowing that my life still had value.

That act of listening may have saved both of us.

Timothy was new in town. He had moved to this area from a Midwestern state and was experiencing the usual stresses of a cross-county move – culture shock, seeking housing and employment, making new friends. But Timothy had even more to deal with. He was severely bi-polar, a diagnosis that had been with him since he was 15.

Now, at 30, Timothy hoped to build a new life. A long-standing wedding engagement had been broken off and he just wanted to get away from the old scene. He was heartbroken, but hopeful. As a person dealing with bipolar disorder, he knew he had to watch out for events that triggered a flare-up of symptoms – the bewildering cycle of mood and behaviors from irresponsibly manic to suicidally depressed.

Putting his new care team into place was a real challenge for Timothy. He was a compliant patient, carefully navigating a new state’s medical and social service sector. He had seen his new psychiatrist, met his case worker, and was waiting for the appointment with his new therapist. He had been prescribed new medications as the current ones weren’t stabilizing his mind, but drug store red tape was holding up the prescriptions.

This was the last straw; now Timothy was completely overwhelmed. He had attempted suicide once before, and wondered if death was the only answer. He felt his body and mind shifting deeper into depression and yet felt restless as though another manic period might be coming on. An anxiety attack began – Timothy’s heart pounded and raced and he couldn’t catch his breath, adding to the panic. He had no one to talk to, so he called the local hospital emergency room. They advised him to come in or to try calling CONTACT Helpline.

Since Timothy had been in an ER before and did not find it very helpful for his situation, he decided to call CONTACT. On the third ring, the phone was answered by an unhurried, soft-voiced woman, a helpline volunteer. He told her he was having a panic attack and was considering suicide as a way out. She assured him that they would stay on the phone together until he felt better, that she was right there with him. Her calm voice and assurance of staying power helped Timothy to calm himself a little. He began describe his situation and his history.

He unwound little by little as the woman listened and reflected back to him in a caring and nonjudgmental way. He realized she would not try to tell him what to do or think less of him because he was bipolar. His breathing slowly returned to normal as the minutes went by. As he recounted the recent events in his life, the woman affirmed his efforts, empathized with his hardships and continued to listen and reflect. His mind began to stabilize a little and he wondered what more he could do to help himself. They discussed support groups and the idea appealed to him. The CONTACT volunteer gave him the phone number and address of a nearby bipolar support group.

When the 40 minute conversation was over and the woman had invited him to call anytime, Timothy knew that he had survived another crisis. He was very relieved to know he could call CONTACT as needed and at no charge. He had another empowering helper in his care team and his safety net. He was able to face another day.

Let’s take a look at the first commandment of effective listening, “Do not judge”. This is the cornerstone on which the other commandments rest and may be the hardest to master, especially for the beginning listener. It is natural for us to judge and discern in daily life. “I’ll take the chicken sandwich and not the tuna.” or “I don’t want you to yell at me. I plan to leave the room next time you start yelling.” This is the healthy aspect of judging, allowing the executive functions of our brain to work properly, and inform and protect us as we go about the business of the day.
In active and effective listening we practice not expressing judgment of the speaker. The speaker may say, “I hate chicken; I always eat tuna.” Our minds, accustomed as they are to judging everything, will most likely chatter with judgmental comments. “How can you eat the tuna? Don’t you know it’s loaded with mercury?” In spite of that, we can learn to observe the workings of our own minds, listen to ourselves with kindness, and chose not to pronounce judgment on our tuna-eating friend.

Our minds will become quieter as we practice with the intent to listen without judgment. In this more peaceful, accepting mental state, the speaker is given conversational and emotional space to say what he or she wants without eliciting a negative or controlling comment from us. Our minds may be trying to “download” such comments to our mouths, but we chose to edit ourselves and be kind. “Oh, you like the tuna better.” This is “reflecting”, letting the speaker know he or she has been heard without arguing or imposing our personal view.

Each listener has a unique set of “buttons” – personal issues, words, tones, or situations which will trigger a storm of judgment in the mind. You may already know what your buttons are. When you are practicing effective listening and your buttons get pushed, note your own reaction and try not to get caught up in it. Attempt to respond with kindness instead of allowing a “knee jerk” reaction to form your response.

What is the payoff for putting in the effort to learn not to judge? One of the surprise benefits is that you won’t judge yourself nearly as much as before. This can lead to more happiness, spontaneity, and genuineness. The people in your life, regardless of their role, will appreciate interacting with you. When they do ask for your opinion, you can respond with clarity and integrity, and a satisfying conversation can follow.

To really get the hang of this, it can be helpful to receive some training and have support and encouragement as you practice. If you are interested, CONTACT can help.