THE LISTENER
I have been thinking about the horse whisperer. I also know the dog whisperer, and an animal whisperer. I think of the power of whispering. The soft, gentle, quiet knowing it takes to have a whisper heard. And the intuition and internal knowing it takes to have words to whisper.
Just within the last few days I have come to view myself as a listener. I have, of course, long talked about the importance of listen to each other. Not being defensive, explaining yourself but listening with your whole being; attentive, attending, available. I am thinking of something even less visibly active then the listening one does with one’s partner. I am thinking of listening with the whole body for the purpose of absorbing one’s story and facilitating healing. One sided listening. I may never respond to ears that hear. I maybe will respond only to souls that long to be heard.
I am definitely NOT talking about being passive. The activity comes from the heart and from somewhere very sacred. “Tell me your story.”
My image is of sitting at the bedside of someone whose heart has been challenged in ways similar to the challenge I have had the past while. It happened again on election night. For 40 minutes my heart went out of rhythm and into Atrial flutter and then it gently slid back into sinus rhythm. Shook me up! Hadn’t happened for almost 6 months and I was only watching the elections. Not climbing a mountain in Prague as was once the case when I went out of rhythm. And not jumping on a trampoline as also happened one of the 8 times I went out of rhythm. Just sitting in a chair, totally oblivious to the political posturing, waiting for the results from Toronto to come it at 9:30 pm.
Whoops, out. Hmmmmm, back. And I have had the need to over and over again, tell this story. I have written about it, I have consulted professionals, I have shared with my partner, friends, gone over and over in my head about what happened, how I felt, what it meant, what I should or shouldn’t do about it.
And I think what I shouldn’t do is worry about it. And what I should do is be available to listen to other people’s story about their life challenging experiences. I can imagine sitting beside someone and simply saying, “Tell me. I will listen.” For no further purpose then letting someone else feel seen and heard. Heard in their fear, their bewilderment, their hope, their pain, their helplessness,and the silence filled with the great, dark unknown.
In the listening to the great, dark unknown, maybe I can begin to know. And if I do, I will surly share what I learn.
More later. Right now I celebrate being in rhythm with myself, my heart, my soul, the universe....and the great, dark unknown.
Warmly, Nancy
Just within the last few days I have come to view myself as a listener. I have, of course, long talked about the importance of listen to each other. Not being defensive, explaining yourself but listening with your whole being; attentive, attending, available. I am thinking of something even less visibly active then the listening one does with one’s partner. I am thinking of listening with the whole body for the purpose of absorbing one’s story and facilitating healing. One sided listening. I may never respond to ears that hear. I maybe will respond only to souls that long to be heard.
I am definitely NOT talking about being passive. The activity comes from the heart and from somewhere very sacred. “Tell me your story.”
My image is of sitting at the bedside of someone whose heart has been challenged in ways similar to the challenge I have had the past while. It happened again on election night. For 40 minutes my heart went out of rhythm and into Atrial flutter and then it gently slid back into sinus rhythm. Shook me up! Hadn’t happened for almost 6 months and I was only watching the elections. Not climbing a mountain in Prague as was once the case when I went out of rhythm. And not jumping on a trampoline as also happened one of the 8 times I went out of rhythm. Just sitting in a chair, totally oblivious to the political posturing, waiting for the results from Toronto to come it at 9:30 pm.
Whoops, out. Hmmmmm, back. And I have had the need to over and over again, tell this story. I have written about it, I have consulted professionals, I have shared with my partner, friends, gone over and over in my head about what happened, how I felt, what it meant, what I should or shouldn’t do about it.
And I think what I shouldn’t do is worry about it. And what I should do is be available to listen to other people’s story about their life challenging experiences. I can imagine sitting beside someone and simply saying, “Tell me. I will listen.” For no further purpose then letting someone else feel seen and heard. Heard in their fear, their bewilderment, their hope, their pain, their helplessness,and the silence filled with the great, dark unknown.
In the listening to the great, dark unknown, maybe I can begin to know. And if I do, I will surly share what I learn.
More later. Right now I celebrate being in rhythm with myself, my heart, my soul, the universe....and the great, dark unknown.
Warmly, Nancy
posted by Nancy Ross at
12:37 PM
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