So...listen to this:

Listen : I'm not going to tell you this again. As if. We always think that what we have to say is important enough to repeat. If not once, then twice.
This past week, I had a complaint and took it to someone I trust. He passed it on to the person who could address my complaint; this person called me and asked if I had anything more to add. Being listened to by both of these busy people meant a lot to me, I realized. And even though I want something done, being listened to by them at least makes me feel that they took what I said to heart.
It seems to me more so now than ever before that people need someone to listen to what they have to say. And by listening, I mean listen, hear and take it seriously. In other words, respond like there's somebody home.
As an employer, I get annoyed when someone doesn't do what I asked and I am sure for their part, employees are annoyed with me if I don't listen when they make a request.
Much of the learning we do is through the simple act of listening. We listen in school and at university.  We listen closely when we are new on the job. We listen to the news. We listen to what people say to find out what they are like. We listen as someone teaches us how to drive a car, hammer a nail or tie our shoes for the first time. As children, we listen to our parents attentively until we realize we know more than they do. By the time we realize we should have listened to our parents, we are looking for opportunities to tell our own kids what we learned. If they would only listen.
Listening is often a call to heed advice... if we listen. I can remember my early days of working at The Review and being allowed to watch one of the presses as it printed the thinnest of onionskin paper. A tricky job, it was, as the suction cups on the arm of the press might pick up a bunch of sheets at a time instead of just one sheet. If many sheets were grabbed by the gripper, I was supposed to stop the press by pulling a big lever, then had to remove the extra sheets and restart the press. If the lead form came into contact with too many sheets at once, it would smash the form and the whole job would have to be set up all over again. This lengthy process was to be avoided.
But one day, a young guy hired after me was assigned to this job.
The first thing he did was crank up the speed of the press. Look how fast he was getting the work done, I thought, kicking myself for not having taken that initiative myself.  I had never seen the moving parts move quite so fast. The paper was flying from the spring-held platform onto the plate, the form flew down to print and the gripper yanked the sheet out and added it to the pile of sheets already printed.
Everyone could hear the quickened loud motor and the press pulsing away.
Until a deadly crunch.
The motor at the side of the press still whirred but now there were no moving parts. Papers hung from every part of the press. The boss came running, removed the cigarette from his mouth and told the new guy, "You didn't listen. I told you not to run the press any faster."
He told me later, "That's what I like about you. You listen."
That was more than 30 years ago, but I have always held on to that compliment and the importance of listening.
So I disappoint myself when I am   frequently in another space and I have to confess to people that I have not been listening while they were talking to me.
These days, I want information and I want it fast. Can you put that in writing? Don't tell me about it now, I'm too busy . . . can you send me an email? What's that new idea? Send me something to read; I don't have time to hear about it right now.
I have picked up these diversionary tactics from other people who are also too busy to listen on demand.
Yet sometimes I feel like we aren't listening at all. When we hear that cosmetics contain ingredients linked to cancer, that fruits and vegetables do not contain the same degree of nutrients they did 25 years ago and our natural resources, including our vital drinking water are being depleted, I wonder if anyone is really listening.
The plethora of words online, in print and on the airwaves is almost overwhelming and we have to be discriminate with our attention and our listening skills.  At least, that is what I tell myself.
For listening is the key to understanding the  past experiences of others as well as understanding the context of the present. When we listen, we hear what others are feeling - we hear their priorities.
In a world where change is constant, listening should be more important than ever as we try to establish common priorities and achieve some kind of consensus. The alternative is to wait in ignorance for what befalls us because we weren't listening.
That's my take on it.  But maybe I'm the last one you should listen to.