Listening Deeply
To listen is to lean in, softly, with a willingness to be changed by what we hear.
MARK NEPO
Leaning in softly. It sounds like a snuggle with a loved one. Or a good way to tune in and open our ears to receive. You and I can’t listen deeply if we are talking loudly. Especially not if the voices in our heads have reached a fever pitch, a clamorous cacophony that won’t be letting anything from the outside in.
Listen deeply. Pause. Yes, we do have time to pause. And it is at our busiest times that this pause will be most beneficial. Lean in. Step outside. What do your hear? Step back inside. Who do you hear? Turn off devices. Clear the clutter. Listen to the sound of your own breathing, or the refrigerator. Just listen.
Willingness to be changed? Also not a strong suit of mine. Unless it is change I seek, which of course is usually the safe kind. The kind that may transform us incrementally, but not the kind that sets us on a new and better path entirely. If we don’t listen deeply and differently, we miss our own intuition, or the truly thought-provoking words of a colleague, or the sincerity of a loved one. We miss so much of ourselves, one another, and Nature when we aren’t listening.
In recovery circles, we hear the phrase “There’s a reason why we have two ears and one mouth. So we listen twice as much as we talk.” Not a bad guide to follow.
To be changed by what we hear means we have to hear it clearly and fully. It may be the words themselves, or the place they are heard, or the tone with which they are said. We listen first with our ears, but then it travels to our heart and soul. Stop. Listen. Stop everything else. Listen with all you’ve got. Maybe it will bring you back to all you have forgotten.
