Are you a generous listener?

When we listen generously to others, we more easily love ourselves.

I've been performing at Open Mic’s a couple of times a month lately, and it's been a surprising journey of self-discovery and vulnerability.

For decades, I’ve been a drummer, but there’s always been a sense of protection when sitting behind the kit. The drum set was like a shield, and if anything went wrong, I could always beat back any “attackers” with my sticks. No bandmate is louder than an excited drummer! But stepping up to sing at an intimate open mic? That’s a whole new world. It’s just me and my voice, with nothing to hide behind.

The Shift from Performing to Listening

Recently, I received some sage advice in a lesson with masterful singer-songwriter Clare Maloney. She recommended that we also practice listening to other performers with generosity. She recommended paying attention not just to my own performance but to the artistry of others, asking myself questions like:

• What can I appreciate about their voice, their song, or their musicianship?

• What feels inspiring about their presence on stage or them as a person?

• Can I find something I truly love in their performance?

This was more profound than I expected. As I began practicing this kind of intentional listening, I noticed an unexpected obstacle: a large pile of “musician baggage” lodged in the shadowy corners of my mind.

What is Musician Baggage?

Musician baggage, for me, is the tendency to hear music through the lens of years of training, preference, and analysis, rather than as a fellow human simply appreciating the art. Instead of feeling the music, I was thinking the music—critically, and often harshly.

Now, I’m no doctor, but I’ve had some serious battles with this musician baggage, especially since stepping into the world of songwriting a few years ago. When I started, I’d labor over every note, every recording, spending hours perfecting parts for songs I might not even use. It became an exercise in letting go of the need for everything to be “perfect,” which was harder than I imagined.

But it was hard for me. I’ve been playing music professionally for a damn long time! I played my first gigs as a teenager where they locked me up in the manager’s office and brought me out to perform and then kicked me out of the bar when we were done.

For over 30 years, I’ve studied music, audio recording, and drumming with countless professionals and world-class artists. When I listened to music, I was often sharpening my ears and analyzing what I was hearing. I spent countless hours practicing my timing, knowledge, and the necessary physical agility to create music. When I hear music (and especially my own music), I hear all kinds of problems your average listener might not hear.

I’m so good at hearing problems; I can even hear them when they aren’t there and I’ll listen again to see if I heard something off.

What kinds of problems can I hear? I’m glad you asked! Here’s a short list of categories:

Here’s a short list of categories my mind tends to obsess over:

• Intonation: Is everything in tune?

• Timing: Am I early, late, or perfectly locked in? (Cue the “Russian Dragon” joke: Am I rushin’ or am I draggin’?)

• Groove/Feel: Is the performance feeling human, or is something off in the pocket?

• Tone/Timbre: How does everything sound acoustically? What’s the “color” of the instruments or voice?

As you can imagine, it’s exhausting to always listen this way—especially when it’s my own music. So, what’s a musician supposed to do when they start singing at 50?

Rediscovering the Joy of Childlike Awe

The answer? Be more like a preschooler. Yep, you heard that right.

Preschoolers live in a magical world where almost everything is exciting, inspiring, and awesome. Before we became “wiser” and more discerning, we were naturally impressed by anyone who sang or danced simply because it was fun and full of energy. Somewhere along the way, that pure joy started getting replaced by critique. I wrote a whole book about my inner critic in fact. So how do we do this?

The Practice of Generous Listening

The good news is that generous listening—finding things you genuinely like about others—can quickly change your experience of music and performance. This practice has not only helped me appreciate other performers but also allowed me to discover more likable qualities in my own voice and music.

Practice Generous Listening

Good news: Finding things you like about others is possible and will give you rewards quickly!

Here’s what I’m practicing, and I have to admit it is already helping me discover more likable qualities in my own voice and music. I also admit that I sometimes fail and find myself being critical or unable to get past certain qualities when listening. My heart has good intentions, but my fearful brain sometimes won’t relax.

Here’s what I’ve been practicing:

• Notice: Find just one small thing to love. Even if it’s tiny, like a single note or a melody line. Recently, I watched the Ed Sheeran documentary Songwriter. I’m not usually a big fan of pop music, but I found myself really enjoying the way he moved and riffed on ideas constantly. His excitement was contagious, and before long, I was humming his melodies.

• Focus: Once you find that small thing, lean into it. How did the artist develop that particular talent or ability? What would you celebrate about them? This curiosity is like a gratitude practice for appreciating others.

• Let Go: Notice when negativity creeps in and gently tell that inner critic, “Not today.” Art isn’t a contest, despite what Simon Cowell or internet trolls might say. It’s okay to have opinions, but allowing your judgments to block your enjoyment of someone’s artistry? That’s a loss for everyone.

• Learn: Finally, ask yourself, “What can I learn from this performance?” Whether it’s technical skill, stage presence, or just the emotion they bring, there’s always something to take away.

Author Krista Tippett sums it up beautifully:

“Generous listening is powered by curiosity, a virtue we can invite and nurture in ourselves to render it instinctive. It involves a kind of vulnerability - a willingness to be surprised, to let go of assumptions and take in ambiguity.

A Final Word on Generous Listening

I’m not saying we need to abandon our standards or become idealistic about art.

Everything is not awesome, and having strong opinions about your craft is important!

What we don’t need is more time working our brain’s negativity muscles, or what we cling to in order to validate our opinions.

Compassion, understanding, and appreciation for the arts in all its forms are essential if we want to live rich, fulfilling lives. So why not start by noticing something positive the next time you listen—and see what unfolds?

Are you ready to give it a try?