The Quiet Power of Being Heard
On the healing relief that comes when someone listens without judgement
My blog today is inspired by a quote I heard on Sunday from Dietrich Bonhoeffer, theologian, pastor, and anti-Nazi dissident. His words landed right in the soft centre of me:
“The first service one owes to others in the fellowship consists in listening to them ….. Many people are looking for an ear that will listen.”
— Dietrich Bonhoeffer
I think this resonated so deeply because the last few weeks have been stretching ones. I’d worked myself into quite a state: tight-chested, restless, unable to settle my thoughts. There were too many decisions and not enough emotional room to hold them. I could feel the pressure rising in my neck and behind my eyes, the unmistakable signs that I was carrying more than I could manage, even if I hadn’t said it out loud yet.
And eventually, I admitted to myself:
I need a listening ear.
So I walked over to a friend’s office as she was due to finish work. I didn’t quite know what I needed to say; I just knew I needed someone who would hear me. And she made time. We headed across the road to Costa, found a couple of seats, and she did the simplest, kindest thing:
She listened.
Without judgement.
Without trying to fix it.
Without shifting in her seat as if to get to the advice part.
Just listening; open, grounded, welcoming.
Carl Rogers, the well-known psychologist who shaped person-centred counselling, once wrote:
“When someone really hears you without passing judgment, without trying to take responsibility for you, it feels damn good.”
And oh, did it feel damn good.
Something in me exhaled. My shoulders softened. My thinking untangled itself like a knot slowly loosening. It was as if her attention allowed my breath to drop down into my body again.
It reminded me of the beautiful words from Henri Nouwen:
“Listening is the highest form of hospitality.”
I wasn’t in her house, but I felt at home, because she created, as Nouwen puts it, “an act of making room inside ourselves for another.”
Another profound quote — this one from Thich Nhat Hanh — came to mind as well:
“Deep listening is the kind of listening that can help relieve the suffering of another person.”
That’s exactly what happened.
In those twenty minutes, she didn’t solve my problems, but she relieved my suffering.
She made space for clarity, calm, and courage to re-enter the room.
Listening is not passive.
Listening is not small.
Listening is not “just listening.”
Listening is a healing power.
And so, as I sit writing this today, I find myself reflecting on how extraordinary this simple act is — this presence, this attention, this quiet generosity of spirit.
Have you felt listened to this week?
Or have you had the privilege of listening to someone else?
Because here’s the beautiful thing I’m realising:
When we listen well, we create the soil where encouragement can grow.
A listening ear becomes a place where someone feels seen, steadied, and strengthened enough to take their next step.
Next week, I want to write about a man whose whole life embodied this: Barnabas, the “son of encouragement.”
But for now, may this be enough:
Your listening matters.
Your presence is powerful.
And someone, somewhere, may be longing for the gift only you can give: an ear that will listen.