Why not start by really listening? Every week, I volunteer at Jeanne Garnier, a medical centre dedicated to palliative care. There I learn something simple and shocking: listening is an act of care. It soothes, connects and gives people back their dignity, even when words are scarce.
This experience deeply nourishes my work as a coach. I call this thread from the power of care to the care of power when the gestures of care - presence, attention, gentleness, accuracy - are not enough. transforming the way power is exercised in organisations. What heals a human being can also looking after a team.
When listening becomes an act of care
In a woman's bedroom, I learn to stay at the edge of the well rather than give answers. I let the words sink in. A breath, sometimes a thank you for listening. In another room, a patient refuses to let us talk about him; we comment on everyday details, and I discover that listening, that day, means looking with someone and sharing the same silence. In a corridor, I take the hand of a 99-year-old man and simply talk about what I hear: the light, the footsteps, the softness of the sheet. One morning, a young man stood up «straight as a shield» and told me he didn't need anything. Twenty minutes later, he smiles at me and the words come. Listening often begins by allowing the other person not to speak straight away.
Other scenes that teach
A gentleman shows me an album with corrugated corners; I turn the pages to the rhythm of his voice and I understand that the album is a conversation. Elsewhere, a patient asks me to read a few lines from a poem she loved; I read and her breathing slows. One morning, I held the telephone open while a voice at the other end said almost nothing: presence also comes through what is not said. Each time, we end with «thank you for being with me». Each of these scenes teaches me the same thing: listening means tuning into the tempo of the other person so that something alive can emerge.
What this means for a leader
In business, we often confuse talking with doing. Active listening brings out what matters. It clarifies situations because we hear both the fact and the burden it carries. Decisions become more accurate: they are based on reality rather than supposition. Trust is built up because you feel heard without being immediately corrected. Authority then shifts from a role to a presence that connects. It's an embodied authority, capable of dealing with complexity without evacuating it.
When you can't listen
Silent tensions build up until they explode in the wrong place. Meetings become scenes where everyone speaks to play their part, without being heard. Decisions are made on the basis of assumptions, and we're surprised when they don't take root. Employees «prefer to be sincere rather than nice» when given the chance; when this is not allowed, sensitive subjects reappear elsewhere, more loudly. The cost of not listening is high: it leads to false agreements and fatigue.
Practical tools for managers
Before a meeting, I set the scene in one sentence: «This time is here to understand before deciding». I announce two simple rules: no interruptions and clarification questions first. I open with a round of introductions, in which everyone says what's important to them in one minute. During the discussion, I keep three levels of listening in mind: the content (the facts), the emotion (how it makes you feel) and the need (what's missing or what matters). A pivotal question often helps me: «What would be true if I really heard you? After the discussion, I turn it into a decision: we reformulate together what we have understood; we make the choices visible - decisions, non-decisions, points to be reopened with a date - and we set up an anchoring ritual: a commitment phrase per person, a simple indicator and a follow-up appointment.
The «listening minute»
Before answering, I take ten seconds to breathe. I really look at the person in front of me. I ask: «What do you need right now, specifically? I rephrase in a neutral sentence and conclude by clarifying the next small action, by whom and for when. This minute changes the atmosphere of a conversation and, often, the outcome of a decision.
Common pitfalls and how to avoid them
The solution reflex is to answer too quickly to reassure; I ask myself two minutes of questions before coming up with any ideas. The pseudo-agreement - «ok with me» - produces nothing; I formalise a clear commitment with who, what, when. I change the instructions: «what I haven't said yet», «what I understand about someone else's position». The awkward silence that is filled too soon deserves to be honoured; I suggest thirty seconds of silence, then we resume.
A 30-day training plan
In the first week, I conduct two «listen first» meetings, using a simple framework and a round of introductions. In the second week, I systematically introduce the three levels - content, emotion, need - into a difficult decision. In the third week, I organise a «mirror meeting» where everyone reformulates the position of another person before giving their own. In the fourth week, I take stock of what has changed - clarity, pace, quality of decisions - and I choose a listening ritual to keep: an opening round, a minute's silence, a cross-reformulation.
Conclusion
Learning to listen means moving on from the power that imposes to the care that makes possible. In palliative care, as in business, listening is not an idleness; it is a demanding form of action. It allows us to accept what is, to make better decisions and to act together. What if your first act of leadership this year was to really listen?
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