Listening as a Leadership Practice

August in the UK brings with it a fullness of summer life. The air is rich with scent and sound, bees humming, grasses swaying, light lingering into the evening. There’s a balmy stillness that invites us to pay closer attention, not just to what’s around us, but to what’s within.

In leadership, we often focus on clarity, direction, and action. Yet at the heart of courageous leadership is something far more subtle: the willingness to listen. Not just to the words being spoken, but to what remains unsaid. To tone, to tension, to pauses. To what the body knows, what the team is carrying, and what this moment is calling for.

This kind of listening is a practice. It’s about presence over performance. It asks us to loosen our hold on knowing, and allow space for complexity, for emergence, for truth to reveal itself.

When I walk with leaders along the South Downs Way, across sunlit fields, and parks - something shifts. The natural world does not hurry. It does not demand. It simply invites us to notice. To attune. To listen with our whole selves.

In this way, nature becomes a co-facilitator. As an outdoor facilitator, I’ve seen how walking side-by-side, in rhythm with the landscape, can transform the quality of conversation. Insights arise gently. Solutions soften. Minds quieten. The body leads, and the heart follows.

Listening, like leadership, is relational. It’s not a one-time task, but a way of being we return to, again and again. Listening builds trust. It says: I’m here. I’m with you. I’m ready to hear what matters.

This practice of listening extends beyond the human, too. Listening to the land, to the rustle of leaves, the call of birds, the shift in temperature, teaches us how to be more attentive. More responsive. Just as we listen to a colleague for what they’re not saying, we listen to nature for what it’s quietly showing us. A change in the wind. The way the light catches a path we hadn’t seen before. These are forms of guidance, too.

Leaders often come to coaching with a sense of overwhelm - too many decisions, too many voices, too much noise. Listening is not a luxury, but a necessity. It brings us back to what is essential. It restores our ability to discern. And it reminds us that we don’t always need to have the answers. Sometimes, our greatest strength lies in our willingness to be present and to truly hear.

Listening also shifts how we lead others. It changes the quality of our meetings, the culture of our teams, and the way we build trust. A leader who listens deeply creates a space where others feel safe to speak, to stretch, to show up as they are. This kind of space can be transformative - not just for individuals, but for the organisation as a whole.

There’s a moment I often notice during outdoor sessions: a shared pause. No one speaks. A bird calls. The wind lifts. And in that pause, something drops in. A new perspective. A deeper clarity. A next step, no longer forced but welcomed. This is what happens when we give ourselves to listening.

So as August unfolds, I offer this gentle invitation:

Where might you slow your pace to listen more deeply? What conversations are asking not for action, but attention? How might nature support you in hearing what truly matters? Where are you being called to listen - within, or around you

And how might nature support you in hearing what truly matters?

With warmth and presence,

Anni