When I graduated from the University of Florida, I was probably the rawest and the sharpest I’ve ever been. I know that sounds contradictory, but it’s true. I had no idea what to do in the real world, but I studied the basic skills of life with such intensity that I was amazing at a lot of fundamental skills. One of those skills was listening.
I learned to listen more than I spoke. I heard it a million times: “You’ve got two ears and one mouth for a reason”, and I thought that anyone would be stupid not to listen to that advice. How hard could it be? Just shut up and listen.
I mastered the art of conversation with people much more seasoned and pedigreed than I’ll ever be. I would listen, ask a question, listen, ask another question, and repeat. After fifteen minutes, I’d know more about my boss or a friend’s father or a potential customer than their spouses knew about them. I was good, and then a terrible thing happened …
I succeeded.
Yep, I started doing well in life. Sales presentations became a lot easier. Building relationships with influencers was second-nature. People were coming to me – no more door-knocking. I became lazy. I worked hard – I’ve always worked hard – but I was being lazy on the details. I lived in the land of successful mediocrity for about 15 years. Then I woke up.
I realized a few years ago that I wasn’t nearly as sharp as I used to be. I can’t point to one event – it was a realization into which I settled after months of reflection. I realized that I got lazy. The process of work became easy, and I didn’t hit the details like I used to. I also realized that I was underperforming. Even though my production was always pretty good, I wasn’t doing my best. So, I got back into it … every facet of professionalism. Just like 20 years prior, I started studying my craft, over-preparing for meetings and calls, and remembering details about people.
The most impactful thing I did was begin to listen again. I mean really, really listen. I mean hearing the unspoken words and feelings that are being communicated nonverbally. Since my relapse to excellence, I’ve realized how many things I must’ve missed along the way. How many clues to problems that I could’ve solved. How many emotions that friends and customers revealed that I let pass right by me. Now that I’m listening again, I realize that I hadn’t been listening at all for a long time.
So, once again, ask yourself: Are you listening to your customers? No really, are you listening to your customers?
