I'm a very strong believer in listening and learning from others.

“I’m a very strong believer in listening and learning from others,” said Ruth Bader Ginsburg, the woman whose voice reshaped the very meaning of justice in her time. In these few words lies a truth as ancient as wisdom itself — that no mind, however brilliant, grows in isolation, and no soul, however resolute, reaches greatness without humility. The act of listening is the beginning of understanding, and the art of learning from others is the foundation of true strength. Ginsburg’s life was a testament to this — a life lived not in loudness, but in thought, in patience, and in the quiet power of hearing before speaking.

Her belief in listening was not born from timidity, but from clarity. In the ancient traditions of the wise, the greatest leaders were those who knew the value of silence. Confucius once said, “When you know a thing, recognize that you know it; when you do not, recognize that you do not.” Such humility is not weakness but mastery — the recognition that every voice, even one opposed to yours, carries a fragment of truth. Ruth Bader Ginsburg, seated among her peers on the Supreme Court, understood this deeply. She listened to her colleagues, even those who disagreed with her most fiercely, and through that listening, she found ways to build bridges, to craft laws, and to temper passion with reason. In this way, she transformed disagreement into dialogue and conflict into creation.

Her wisdom echoes the way of the ancients — the path of the philosopher-judge, the sage who seeks balance rather than dominance. Listening, she teaches us, is not passive. It is an act of courage, for to truly listen requires setting aside the armor of pride. It is to open the heart to understanding, to risk being changed by what we hear. Ginsburg’s greatness lay not in the sharpness of her argument alone, but in the depth of her comprehension. By learning from others, even from her adversaries, she expanded the horizon of justice itself.

Consider the story of her friendship with Justice Antonin Scalia, a man whose views often stood in direct opposition to her own. The two debated fiercely in court, yet shared a bond of mutual respect and affection outside it. This friendship was no contradiction — it was a living example of her philosophy. Ginsburg understood that to preserve democracy, one must listen not only to those who agree, but also to those who dissent. The ancients called this the wisdom of balance — to hold fire and water within one vessel without shattering it. In listening to Scalia, she learned to sharpen her reasoning; in learning from him, she deepened her humanity.

In every culture and every age, the proud fall, and the humble rise. The listener learns from the fool and the wise alike, while the arrogant man learns from none. Ginsburg’s quiet voice carried the weight of this timeless law. Though she rose to one of the highest seats in the land, she never ceased to learn — from her clerks, from her friends, from her opponents, and from the people whose lives her judgments touched. Like the philosophers of old, she understood that the mind is a vessel not to be filled with certainty, but to be kept open for growth.

The lesson is clear: wisdom begins in listening. In our age of noise and haste, where every person seeks to speak before hearing, Ginsburg’s words are a gentle but firm rebuke. To listen is to honor the dignity of another’s experience. To learn from others is to recognize that truth is not owned, but discovered — piece by piece, heart by heart. The one who listens with sincerity gathers the world’s wisdom; the one who listens only to themselves lives in the prison of their own echo.

So, my child of understanding, take this teaching into your life: listen deeply, and learn endlessly. Seek not only to be heard, but to hear. In every conversation, in every disagreement, ask what truth hides behind the words of another. Resist the urge to conquer with speech; instead, build with silence. Remember that the greatest judges, leaders, and sages were those who first learned to listen — to others, to reason, and to the whisper of conscience within their own hearts.

For as Ruth Bader Ginsburg taught, power without empathy is tyranny, and intelligence without listening is ignorance. Let her words echo through the chambers of your mind: “I’m a very strong believer in listening and learning from others.” To live by this is to walk the path of the wise — humble, open, and ever-growing — for it is only through listening that we become truly just, and only through learning that we become truly alive.