A Selfless Art

Last month, I mentioned the practice, developed by AA and Al-Anon of listening without comment to what others say about their experience. It wasn’t something I knew about at first hand, so I quoted Amy Liptrot’s account from her book, The Outrun. But I had talked about it with my old friend Tony, who has deep experience of Al-Anon. Here is his account.

• • •

‘To take time to think is to gain time to live.’ 

Nancy Kline, Time to Think: Listening to Ignite the Human Mind

For the last 30 years I have attended Al-Anon, the 12-Step programme for friends and families of alcoholics. I will never forget going into my first meeting. Eleven other people who had been affected by a loved one’s drinking welcomed me with hugs and smiles. 

We sat in a circle and, after a few preliminary words to set the scene, followed by readings from Al-Anon literature, people began to share. I had never experienced anything like it. Members each spoke for 5-10 minutes without interruption. Some were fluent; others stumbled and mumbled. It didn’t matter.  At the end of every share the rest of the group simply said ‘thank you’. No-one responded, nor did they comment when they shared on anything that had been said before.

Ten minutes before the end of the meeting, the chair (the position is rotated—no-one is in charge) turned to me as the newcomer and asked if I would like to say anything. My heart was beating out of my chest. When I opened my mouth all I could say (definitely stumbling and mumbling!) was ‘I can’t talk like the rest of you. You’re all talking from your hearts, and I don’t know how to do that. I can only talk from my head.’ They said ‘Thank you, Tony.’

Professionally, I talked all the time. I had a leadership position so networking, setting out plans, banging the drum for my organisation and so on was my day job. If I had come to a discussion meeting, I would have been in my element. I’d have known that, at some point, someone else would have interrupted me—perhaps with a comment, or by laughing/growling/harrumphing or else empathising with ‘I know just what you mean’ (when, chances are, they don’t). But just starting to speak, not knowing where my thoughts will take me and being given the time to articulate ideas I didn’t realise I had, is a very different experience. Scary at first, but, with practice, empowering in a way I hadn’t thought possible. It gave me time to think, which I didn’t know I lacked.

Being listened to in a new way has given me the space to learn how to talk from my heart. By expressing what is really going on for me, I have learnt to tell the truth—my truth.

The other side of the coin is, of course, that I have learnt to listen, rather than just waiting to talk. Hearing the lived experience of people in Al-Anon affected by another’s drinking, of alcoholics in recovery too, has brought an end to the endless comparing and judging of others that I used to do without realising it. I have come to believe that listening to another human being—really listening—is the greatest act of love we can give to each other.

Tony S.