In the Silence

I am thinking today about silence. I seem to be craving it. More than silence itself, I am seeking a different way of listening to others and to the world and I think silence is the place to begin if I am to find it. In the quiet places, we begin to use our ears in a different way.

I have never claimed to be a good listener. At best, I can say I have some awareness when I am lost in my own thoughts and missing what another is saying. When this happens, if I am lucky, I can recenter myself and set an intention to listen more fully. Is this enough? Can listening be boiled down to a technique? As a coach and workshop leader, I've taught listening skills for years. Lately, in the silence, I have come to believe that listening can go much, much deeper than the skills we teach in classes.

What I am beginning to experience in the silence is a different way of listening. It involves listening from the inside-out rather than from the outside-in. What do I mean by that? A few weeks ago, I sat down on a bluff over the Pacific Ocean, and resolved to "listen" for the wisdom embodied in that particular place. There I was, trying to be an attentive listener, and ultimately, an observer. By some grace, this well-intentioned attempt was interrupted, and I had a different sort of experience than the one I'd set out seeking.

I was observing a tiny feather, stuck to the spiked edge of a thistle, being jostled by the wind. I lost myself in its dance, wondering when the wind would be strong enough to free it and sail it away, and if I would be there to see that magical moment. I watched and noticed that the same breeze that was moving the feather was also moving my hair. We were sharing the experience, the feather and I. I simultaneously noticed that the ground I was sitting on was being changed by my weight and presence and at the same time was changing ME as my body adapted to its contours. We were all sharing an experience! I was no longer the outsider, "observing" the beauty of the coastline. I was part of the whole.

In this wholeness, my way of listening changed. Analysis dropped away. Words were unneccesary. Just as sometimes happens in a meditation session, I found a universe in the silence that rests beneath the words that usually fill my mind. I was experiencing this moment from my essence, what I'd call the deepest part of myself. No words were needed. The experience was immediate and complete without need of interpretation. I did't have to "try hard" to listen, I just let my essence rise and join the conversation that is always happening, a conversation that requires no words!

The experience is difficult to describe precisely because it required no words. But I see now that I found the wisdom I was seeking when I sat down on that bluff. I found it by immersing myself in it, essence-to essence. I experienced a way of listening that does not require technique. I found that "less is more" and that listening can be more of an participating than a trying. I have no idea where this will take me or if it can be repeated in other places, or even with people. I write to remember. I write to share what I hope will engage others in a dialogue. Maybe, when that happens, we can try listening to each other in another way?