Last night the blankets swallowed me as I tried to sleep. I drifted into a restful slumber only to startle awake at 3:00 a.m. Too warm under my layers, I kicked one leg out of my comforter to feel a gush of cold air. Fully awake, two distinct noises captured my attention. Inside our room, I heard the sound of my daughter’s breath, her deep snore indicating a restful sleep. Outside, I listened to the guttural wail of ravenous coyotes who howled with definite purpose.
The contrast of these divergent sounds led to some reflection. Are we really pausing and listening? To ourselves? To our spouses? To our children? To our friends? In my daily life, I fall prey to tuning into activities that distract my attention from fully listening. In the regular flow of my life, I turn up the radio in my car, surf the web, play Words With Friends, and talk on the phone. These actions occur while pursuing another something. What dissipates to the background is the real listening.
Yesterday, while picking up my daughter from school, I turned my radio up. Halfway home, my daughter started asking some questions. I admit that I failed to hear all of her thoughts because my attention focused on these words blaring from my radio, “Love we need it now, Let’s hope for some.” I asked my daughter to repeat what she just said, but the moment passed. She told me, “Nevermind Momma, it is ok.”
The intersection of that conversation and my restless sleep prompted me to think about all of the moments where we fail to listen. What are we missing in those minutes and seconds? In those pauses are there deeper places we can connect? Society convinces us to move forward and fast and that creating busy, multitasking lives exemplifies a balanced existence. This thinking prevents us from slowing down, paying attention, and pausing.
We convince ourselves that listening to various soundbites gives us the complete picture.
Pause and really listen.
There is always so much more.
IMAGE: UNTITLED BY KY_OLSEN VIA FLICKR UNDER A CREATIVE COMMON LICENSE
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
I am so guilty of only halfway listening. When I really listen I hear so much more than is actually being said…unfortunately I must remind myself constantly to be “aware” of the moment taking place.
How well do we listen ? Today a friend confided that she is getting a divorce… I was sad … I realized that she is no longer happy because her husband is not listening to what she needs from him and he no longer sees her. Life is so busy … So important to stop, listen and take it in. Thanks for this reminder .
Greetings from Bukavu, Congo!
I know of my need to be heard but i’m not sure I do a good job of listening. While i’m traveling, i’m loving listening to the songs of indigeous birds in a foreign place. It’s a great reminder that as foreign as these living beings seem at first, i can feel connected to them just by tuning in and listening.
Xoxo
Listening effectively is hard. Really hard.
We expect so much of ourselves now – multitasking to the point of exhaustion, trying to be all things to all people (if we’re women), trying to be the perfect parent (it doesn’t exist). Sometimes it’s really okay not to listen except peripherally. But when we’ have too much going on (external noise and internal dialog) we can’t always tell when to tune back in (to a spouse or child) and when it’s okay to tune out… at least a little.
We do need to turn a few things to the “off” position more frequently. In the quiet, we can focus on the voices we need to hear, and what they’re really saying.