In our social culture, listening does not receive the importance it deserves. It is often seen merely as a lead into giving advice, not as an act of support on its own. As soon as we notice that someone close to us is not living according to what we see as “right,” we hasten to intervene: one piece of advice leads to another, then reprimand, and perhaps harshness justified by concern.
But what we see of others' lives is only a small part of a larger story. We do not know how many times they tried and failed, the magnitude of the obstacles they faced, or the silent battles that depleted their energy. We assume that the solution is absent from their consciousness, while often, the solution is present, but the ability to apply it is absent or exhausted.
The problem here is not the intent, but the method. We link support to words, even though the deepest forms of support might start with silence. True listening does not mean waiting for your turn to speak, but temporarily suspending judgments, and opening a safe space for others to express what they cannot under the pressure of advice and evaluation.
In an increasingly noisy world, listening becomes a rare but profoundly impactful act. It does not offer ready solutions, but it provides a fundamental feeling: that the person is understood, not judged in their struggles, and not required to justify their pain. Many people do not need someone to show them the way, but someone to sit beside them until they can walk on their own again.
Perhaps we need to redefine the meaning of support: to lower our voices a little, listen more, and always start with a simple question before any advice:
How are you?
