Reggio Emilia talks about the ‘100 languages’ of small children, but once we grow up, how often are we tuned into them? We usually just default to ‘talking and listening’.

When we are in the ‘teacher’ or ‘trainer’ role, we usually do A LOT of talking. 
And of course, we (ideally) do a lot of listening as well.
But what does it mean to REALLY listen?

Last week, I delivered a twilight INSET to a BIG group – over 80 staff – around ‘The Playful Brain’.
It’s a ‘soft’ subject, maybe, but it’s underpinned by some heavy-duty theory (I love talking, but anyone who knows me knows I especially love talking about brains!)

Every time I teach, I learn something new, and this time was no exception.
I always try to be an active listener, and much of what I learned in that session was from hearing the ‘unspoken voices’.

I learned how the size of a group impacts the way a group learns.
I noticed how many people found the rows of chairs restrictive, and how much they needed to move.
I realised how much narrower trainees’ bandwidth is when they’ve already done a full day’s work.

Their attention span may have been shorter than usual, but I was also aware that, when prompted to discuss the material, they became energised and completely immersed; they needed to unpack it, explore it, and make sense of it within their own role or context.

The question I’ve been reflecting on since, of course, is how counter-productive it is to force-feed children information – with no space for thinking, talking, processing, rehearsing (or moving!) – and how inaccurate it is to call that ‘learning’.
But that’s a different post…

The question I had to answer in that moment was ‘How do I respond to this, right now?

Because, whether we teach, train or facilitate, doing it well is about way more than knowing our stuff.
I had to chop mine down to make time for an unplanned break.
I had to rapidly magic up a practical activity so that ‘play’ was experienced and embodied, not just taught.
Otherwise, my session would have fallen short.

My training may not be the most meaningful example, but what I’m essentially talking about here is the phenomenon of ‘attunement‘.
Attunement has the potential to affect us deeply and emotionally; it has many lessons to share and I don’t think we should ever stop learning them.

But that can be challenging for a number of reasons, and here’s why…

Firstly, whether we work with children or adults, when our role is the position of ‘leader’, being led by their needs – and meeting them – can feel like an undermining of our own authority.
We still need to hold the space, otherwise things can easily fall apart.

Many professionals, especially those who are managed by rigid and inflexible systems, are also simply not granted the permission or freedom or trust to lead with attunement.
The work is person-centred in theory, but not in practice.

And, even so, attunement isn’t always easy to master; it takes awareness, sensitivity, adaptability, and a level of self-trust we’re rarely encouraged to feel.
And it can’t be rushed.
So it often feels safer to just stick with the familiar; to plough on with the system or the ‘script’ that we know by heart.

So here’s an invitation…

How much more impactful can we be in our practice, just by paying attention to the fine detail, by intentionally ‘reading the room‘?

How can we affect change, simply by recognising that what people need from us isn’t aligned with what we want from them, and respond to that?

The belief that our professional capacities are limited to skills or knowledge or cognition is false; the art of attunement is a deep well of intelligence in its own right.
It lives in the body – not just the brain – and uses the language of instinct and intuition, not just words.

What happens when we really intentionally pay attention, when we hear the silences and the pauses, not just the speech?
What can we learn when we observe the really subtle cues; the movement of the eyes, the shuffling, the slight shifts in energy?

This level of communication happens mostly beneath conscious awareness, so your people – your children, your team, your staff etc. – probably don’t know themselves what they have to say.
They may not notice what they’re telling you.

But, if you’re listening with attunement, you will… 

PS) This material (and more!) is explored in my CPD session ‘Heart Based Connection: Using Your Presence as well as Your Practice’.
Find out more about this and ‘The Playful Brain’ here.
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