Listening for the beauty: The power of genuine appreciation

My good friend Caroline is moving to Nashville this week, and her departure is leaving a big hole in my life. Together, we started a monthly music group at her home in Oakland that became something truly special. While I have other people I can play music with, very few listen with the kind of deep appreciation that Caroline always showed me.

After I’d play, she never failed to offer a kind word: “I liked the twangy way you sang that high note,” or “You hit that finger-picking section just right.” Sometimes, a song I sang or wrote would move her emotionally, even to tears. Her responses weren’t coming from a place of obligatory “female niceness.” She genuinely heard beauty in my voice and guitar playing.

To be honest, I don’t think my voice is particularly pretty, and my guitar playing is what I’d call advanced beginner. But Caroline’s gift was hearing something in my music that I couldn’t hear myself.

The Beauty of Vulnerability

Last December, I attended a Christmas Day church service. One of the musical performances was by the minister and her mother, both beginner harpsichord players. Their rendition of Silent Night wasn’t polished—they hit several wrong notes and were clearly nervous in front of the crowd. Yet their performance was exquisite.

Why? Because it was real. Tender. Heartfelt. Perhaps it was precisely their vulnerability that made it so moving. Their music wasn’t about technical skill; it was about being genuine and present in the moment.

Raw Expression Is Always Beautiful

As someone who’s taught creative writing workshops for years, I’ve always emphasized this to my students: “Listen for what you like. What stayed with you? What was strong in the piece?” Even the most unskilled writer has a raw, beautiful voice trying to express itself. That rawness, that essence, is always beautiful.

Just as every tree, flower, and blade of grass has its unique beauty, every voice—no matter how unskilled—holds its own truth and beauty. It’s life expressing itself.

A Deeper Way of Listening

Over the years, I’ve come to see that listening like Caroline listens is rare. It’s not about evaluating skill or technique but about hearing the soul or heart underneath. When you listen at this level, you always hear beauty.

This makes me wonder: What if we all learned to listen this way? Not just to music or writing, but to each other?

We often think social change requires grand movements, but what if it’s as simple as learning to listen for the beauty in every voice? The raw, tender expression of life deserves to be heard, and in hearing it, we can create a more compassionate, connected world.