With Valentine’s Day approaching, we often think of love as something expressed through grand gestures, gifts, or carefully chosen words. But some of the most powerful expressions of love show up quietly — in moments where we choose to listen, even when it feels uncomfortable or risky. This story from my award-winning book offers one of these moments.
For a number of years, I’ve been a member of a co-working space. Some time ago, the owner asked me to weigh in on a tricky issue that was percolating into a somewhat toxic brew. A few members, two or three of them, wanted to bring their dogs into the workspace. However, there were others who were very much opposed to this. The owner didn’t want to come down hard on the dog proponents, but she was aware that those who did not want this change were feeling very unhappy. A few of the members had brought their dogs, with mixed results. At this point, it became clear our co-working community was on the verge of dividing into two camps with a calcifying binary — Dog Lovers vs. Dog Haters — and something needed to be done.
I agreed to lead a conversation and also saw this as an opportunity to test out a new card game I had developed — Shift/POV — for leading groups through conflicted conversations.
The most powerful moment of the meeting came when “Tanya” shared insight as to why she did not want dogs in a workspace.
“Every time one of the dogs barks here, at the mailman or whatever, alarms go off in my head and it takes about 20 minutes for me to get my focus back,” she said softly.
She then told us about roaming packs of feral dogs in the Asian city of her childhood. People would run for shelter when they heard the barking, and children who were too far from home often got bitten.
“I’ve never gotten over that first response when I hear a dog bark. For me, it’s pure panic.”
The entire group was silent in listening to this story. No one rolled their eyes. No one minimized Tanya’s experience with a trite label. The empathy we, as a group, discovered that day by listening to Tanya’s story allowed us to move on and create a range of solutions. After a short discussion, we reached a compromise amenable to all parties, and the topic has not resurfaced.
The group resolved the issue because we had taken the time to sort it out and listen to each other. We didn’t just relay the “facts” of the situation, try to implement punitive rules, or come up with a quick Band-Aid fix. By listening with our hearts to that one simple, powerful story, we turned down the noise in the room — and in our world — just long enough to create solutions and strengthen the bonds of our community.
I checked in with Tanya later, and she admitted that she had been on the verge of pulling out of her membership completely over the dog issue. She was grateful the group meeting afforded her the space to be heard.
Sometimes, this is really all we need — the time and space to be truly heard, respected, and acknowledged. Even if the outcome doesn’t align with what we want, just being listened to in this fashion can take the toxin out of the result. We can make peace with the ultimate decision, and make peace with each other.
Perhaps this is one of love’s quieter forms.
Not flashy.
Not romantic in the traditional sense.
But deeply connective.
Listening — especially when it feels hard — is one of the most generous acts of love we can offer.
The 3H model I outline in my book “Head, Heart & Hands Listening in Coach Practice” digs deeper into this process:
Head — Listen Beyond Positions to the Deeper Story
Instead of locking into sides (Dog Lovers vs. Dog Haters), Head listening notices the binary forming and stays curious about what might be underneath each viewpoint. It asks: What experiences, fears, or values are shaping this reaction? Rather than debating facts or rules, it seeks understanding.
Heart — Make Space for Vulnerability and Emotion
Heart listening shows up in the group’s willingness to sit in silence with Tanya’s story—resisting the urge to minimize, judge, or rush past her pain. It allows empathy to replace assumptions. This is where listening feels risky, because it requires openness to being moved, softened, and changed by what we hear.
Hands — Turn Understanding into Respectful Action
Hands listening appears in the way the group translated empathy into collaborative problem-solving. Instead of imposing a quick fix or punitive policy, they created solutions informed by real human experience. Simple actions—facilitating dialogue, reflecting back what was heard, and co-creating compromise—strengthened trust and community.
Why It Matters Most Then:
When emotions run high and sides begin to form, listening is often the first thing to disappear—and the very thing most needed. By engaging Head, Heart, and Hands together, the group transformed a toxic standoff into understanding, resolution, and deeper connection.
Sometimes the bravest listening happens not when it’s easy, but when it feels uncomfortable, tender, and vulnerable.
Being truly heard is often what eases the pain of conflict.
Love Note: Stay When It’s Uncomfortable
Listening is brave when it stays present in the wobble.
Love doesn’t flee discomfort—it breathes through it.
Isn't it funny that doing something as simple as listening can feel risky. Great story to illustrate the benefits of creating intentional listening time.
I wish more people would realize that listening is the most important thing they could ever do!