are we listening?

361

To listen and to hear are as alike as oil and water. We often think we are listening, when all that’s really happening is that we’re hearing a download of noise from an external source, data which our memory (thinking) sorts into stories that gel with our own worldview.

The art of listening involves bringing relaxed word-free attention to the moment’s fullness – whether it’s a friend sharing confidences, a ghetto-blaster thumping, a kookaburra cackling, the water murmuring and the breeze sighing over its surface. In the same impartial way, this listening notices the constant commentary being broadcast inwardly by thinking and feeling – the whole movement of “me”.

It’s interesting to find that when this quality of listening is present there’s really nothing to say because opinions are absent. There’s nothing to say, yet everything that matters is being said. In the absence of words, something else has space to speak, something inextricably intimate that we recognize as Love.

~

to live is to ‘-ing’

219

The svelte yogini who folded herself up lotus-like
is awol.
Here sits a woman with a knee the size of a football,
legs sticking straight out in unapologetic
comfort,
senses checking in with the now-this-here:

listening is
– an upstairs neighbor snoring
– a gearing-up truck roaring
– feathered friends twittering
– body-beat pulsing

seeing is
– the golden sun rising
– the candle flame dancing
– tiny toads hopping
– palm fronds gently swaying

feeling is
– a mangled leg aching
– a left buttock numbing
– a concern for parents tightening
– then releasing

Life is ing-ing everywhere
and it seems to this ‘me’-ing be-ing
that
to live is to ‘-ing’!

~