Listening

We live in a world surrounded by sound. Silence is very hard to find whether it is from the environment around us or from the chatter within. We are engaged in self talk from the moment we awake until sleep. That dialogue is vital to understand. It drives a great deal of our behaviours. We tell ourselves things like, "I can do this."; "I can't be successful, I'm going to blow it." Self talk finds its origins in our past experiences and belief structures developed in childhood and beyond.

These beliefs are so engrained that we rarely really hear them in a way that is connected to truly listening. When we do hear them, they serve to reinforce what we already know about ourselves. Really? Possibly not. What the self talk does is keep us wilfully blind to our opportunity in the moment. Then we are simply actors upon a stage repeating our well worn lines.

Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow,

Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,

To the last syllable of recorded time;

And all our yesterdays have lighted fools

The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!

Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player

That struts and frets his hour upon the stage

And then is heard no more. It is a tale

Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury

Signifying nothing. (Macbeth, Act 5, Scene 5)

To begin listening, a series of mindful questions can yield some interesting insights:

• What do I really feel right now?
• Where does that feeling come from?
• What does it make me want to do?
• What do I usually do?
• What else could I try?
• What am I afraid of?
• If I just observe what I feel now instead of doing the usual thing, I wonder what will happen?

A really interesting exercise is to sit by a stream or a river. Close your eyes. Listen. What can you hear? What is in the foreground? What is in the background? What is it you can hear if you focus? Open your eyes and look at what is there. Scan slowly and link what you see with a sound. Do you hear something else?

I sat by the river

Listening

Just listening

It was not far from the sounds of the city

Whose sounds imposed 

Moving slowly

Listening with attention

To what was around me

I began to hear

The symphony of the river

It was music of many sounds

There were the bursts of quiet bubbles

I could hear water flow over a rock

There was the cascading sound of the flowing water

They played together yet separately

It was a visual symphony 

As I opened my eyes

The sun bounced of the water

Creating jewels that sparkled

Moved along and disappeared

As I watched and listened 

I heard a chorus

It chimed in from time to time

Lifting up the symphony

With contrast and symmetry

It was the birds

It was an opera

So often unheard and unseen but constantly performed

It was like the soul

And its inner story that always plays

Whether it is heard or not

It will perform 

© Peter Choate, 2016