Are You Listening?

By Maria Shriver
October 11, 2025

Last Thursday evening, I sat and quietly listened to an interview with a woman who lost her loved ones two years ago on the day of the October 7, 2023, Hamas attack against Israel. I listened to her pain, her sorrow, and her strength as she shared how hard it’s been to do almost anything since that day. At the end of her conversation, this woman said softly, “We need to believe in humanity again. We need to make sure no more children die because of adults’ mistakes.”

After the interview ended, I sat for a long time thinking about what this woman said. I thought about all the pain and loss that has unfolded in the Middle East over the past two years. I know this conflict stretches back decades, but on this particular night, I listened to stories of people who have endured unimaginable suffering in just the last twenty-four months.

And now, with reports of a cease-fire agreement, there is a glimmer of hope.

Can you hear the collective sigh of relief? Probably not yet. Not until all the remaining hostages are home. Not until the violence stops. Not until there is some semblance of peace—and yes, quiet.

Do you dare allow yourself to listen for the sounds of peace?

Listen.

When you are quiet, what can you hear?

Can you hear your own thoughts? The beat of your own heart? Do you hear someone else’s voice telling you to do this or that?

Listen.

Today, I’d like to talk to you about the art of listening, both to yourself and to others.

The Dalai Lama said it best: “When you talk, you are only repeating what you already know. But if you listen, you may learn something new.”

I've always loved this quote, but I especially love it now since listening feels like a lost art these days. That’s why this week’s Sunday Paper is devoted to listening. It feels especially urgent at this moment, when our leaders and our country seem trapped in a cycle of talking without hearing, arguing without understanding, and shouting without progress.

Just look at the government shutdown. The problem isn’t that Washington has gone quiet. It’s that the two sides have stopped listening to one another. They perform instead of hearing each other. They compete instead of compromising. They fight instead of listening. You can see it play out in real-time in our national debates over immigration, where human lives and families are lost in the noise of political theater. That’s why, this week, we asked a professional mediator how we got here, why it’s so hard to listen to one another these days, and how to have more empathy and understanding.

As reports emerged that Israel’s government has approved a U.S.-brokered cease-fire plan in Gaza, I found myself praying that leaders on all sides are finally listening—truly listening—to the cries for peace. I have no doubt there will be a lot more listening over the weekend, and I hope calm temperaments prevail to make this peace deal actually come to life in the manner it was negotiated. I also hope this can serve as an important reminder to us all that listening is not weak. In fact, it’s the only way forward when the cost of silence has become unbearable.

The cost of not listening is showing up everywhere these days, though—not just in our national politics or in conflicts abroad. It’s showing up at our dinner tables, in our workplaces, in our friendships, and even within ourselves. We’ve tuned out from each other and, in turn, from our own inner voices. This is especially true online, where AI has only made our discourse louder and reasonable voices harder to hear. So we looked to Imran Ahmed, the founder of the Center for Countering Digital Hate, this week to learn more about how listening can help us change the tone online.

No wonder so many people tell me they don’t know who to listen to anymore. Do I listen to my doctor or the new recommendations from the CDC? To my heart or to the Supreme Court? To the news or to social media? To my parents, my teacher, my boss—or no one at all? Who is telling the truth? Who has the facts? Who can I trust?

When it comes to women’s health, I hope you feel you can trust my voice on this subject. After years of advocacy and collaboration with doctors, researchers, and women on the frontlines, I can tell you we still have a long way to go in getting women the facts and science they deserve—facts that help them make sound, informed decisions about infertility, pregnancy, menopause, and other critical health issues.

That’s why I hope you’ll take a moment to read the op-ed I wrote for TIME this week. In it, I call on our leaders to finally listen to the millions of women pleading for the federal government to prioritize their health and research needs. At a time when so many women are seeking real answers, this is not the moment to tell them to “tough it out.” It’s the moment to listen and to act.

It’s unconscionable that so little is spent on women’s health in this country, but that truth is rooted in data, not opinion. If those in power would only listen, it could be changed.

And when people in power stop listening, the results are devastating. Systems collapse. Trust erodes. But when we, the people, stop listening and speaking up for what we need and believe in, that’s when democracy begins to drift into dysfunction.

I’ve learned through therapy, reflection, and many hard conversations that most conflicts—especially with the people we love—aren’t really about what we think they’re about. The real issue lives beneath the surface. That’s why, when something erupts around the dinner table, I often ask my kids, “What are we actually talking about?”

Because beneath every argument lies something deeper: a hurt, a fear, a longing to be seen and heard. When we stop listening, those old stories take over. But when we listen deeply, we open the door to understanding and healing.

Listening well—be it in a relationship, at work, or in leadership—requires emotion, reflection, humility, and forgiveness—as renowned relationship experts Helen and Harville so wonderfully lay out for us this week. It slows us down. It softens our edges. It reminds us that the goal of listening isn’t to win—it’s to connect, to learn, and to grow.

In relationships, deep listening rebuilds trust. At work, it builds collaboration. As parents, it helps our children feel safe. As leaders, it turns authority into service. And in our democracy, it can turn division into dialogue.

Listening doesn’t mean agreeing; it means being willing to hear. It’s how empathy grows. It’s how we move from reaction to reflection, from fear to understanding.

So this week, I’m challenging myself—and I invite you to join me—to practice the art of listening in a few small, intentional ways:

1 - Listen before you respond. When someone shares a strong opinion, pause. Take a breath. Ask, “Tell me more.”

2 - Listen beneath the words. Try to hear what’s not being said — the emotion beneath the anger, the fear beneath the frustration.

3 - Listen to yourself. Notice your own fatigue, your fears, your instincts. When you listen inwardly, you respond outwardly with more grace.

Imagine what might change in our families, our workplaces, and yes, even in Washington, if we each committed to listening this way.

Our country can’t heal if no one’s listening. Our families can’t grow if no one’s listening. Our hearts can’t rest if we refuse to hear them.

Listening won’t solve everything overnight, but it can soften what’s hardened. It can rebuild what’s been broken. It can remind us of our shared humanity, which is something that’s been drowned out by all the noise.

May this moment, as fragile peace takes root in Gaza, remind us that listening is holy work. It’s how we honor the dignity of every human life, how we make space for mercy, and how we begin to turn pain into peace.

So this week, let’s listen to one another, to our hearts, and to the still, small voice that reminds us we belong to each other. Because listening, I believe, is how we begin to move humanity forward—one honest, humble conversation at a time.