A note to the reader.
I have been thinking about writing about mindful listening and for some time, and there is just so much, way too much for one coherent somewhat short essay. So six short stories, each of which could become a larger essay. Hopefully, at least one of the pieces will move you to consider how you might listen more mindfully, more deeply. It is a daily challenge!
Civil Conversations
Right after the 2016 election, I formed a Civil Conversation group because of how divided our country had become: You were on one side or the other. The other were the enemy.
Over the past 2 1/2 years a dozen of us, from avid Trump supporters to people on the far left, have met monthly in living rooms to listen to each other. The goal has been not debate but rather coming to understand why the other person believes what they believe. We have listened civilly to others talk about healthcare, immigration, gun control, abortion, etc. Whew! Not easy.
Our group was recently held an event at our public library to share that Civil Conversation is possible. During our planning sessions and and during the event it was interesting to hear the attributions made by members of our group for the success of our group.
1. The importance of face to face discussions in living rooms.
2. To recognizing that while we had little in common about policies, what we had in common was a deep commitment to the principles of democracy. Those commonalities made a huge difference.
3. The values of stories, not to persuade the others, but to let them in to our world of experience
4. How hard it is to really listen.
In this post, I want to explore what helps us to listen to really listen and what gets in the way.
What mindful (deep) listening entails
As is often the case, the poets can take us deeply into important ideas. From a poem by John Fox :
“When someone deeply listens to you
it is like holding out a dented cup
you’ve had since childhood
and watching it fill up with cold, fresh water.
When it balances on top of the brim,
you are understood.
When it overflows and touches your skin,
You are loved.”
Mindful listening is bringing the intention to be curious and nonjudgmental while listening. In situations where we are judgmental, mindful listening is also being aware when we do have judgments.
A key here is the notion of respect (literally re-spect: to look again) and being heard.
Many years ago, we had to totally redesign our Teacher Education program due to changes in state requirements. We were moving toward to a vote on an proposal which one faculty member strongly disagreed with. Acting on what we had learned from a consultant, we allowed him time to speak without interruption, and he was listened to respectfully. After wards he was asked if he would support the measure (which passed). He said “Of course. I just needed to be heard.” The story stayed with me and many members of my department for many years.
Listening as receiving
For many years, my primary practice was the body scan meditation which involved paying attention to sensations in and on the body. For years, I was trying to notice as many sensations as possible. At some point, I realized that it’s really about paying attention to what’s already happening, that is receiving the awareness of the sensations. That was a huge paradigm shift for me. My meditation from a doing practice to a being/receiving practice.
The loving kindness meditation which I described in previous logs is also a receptive awareness. It’s not generating or sending this energy out to the world as much as it is inviting my heart to receive the awareness of that energy that is already in my heart. When I asked one of my teachers about the loving-kindness meditation, he responded that this energy of loving kindness should actually pervade all meditation, not just the loving-kindness meditation.
Another author talked about loving kindness as non-contentious: Can my relationship to the information coming into my awareness be non-contentious? When I am contentious, most of my energy is on my contending with the information coming in and thinking how I’m going to respond to that information. When I’m non-contentious, my relationship is more on the quality of my listening.
Barbara McClintock
A powerful examples of receptive awareness comes from Barbara McClintock who was a pioneer in the field of genetics. She made many major contributions to the field in her research on corn in the 1920s and 1930s. People were interested in her methods and she talked about what had made these discoveries possible.
In her own words:
“I know my corn plants intimately, and I find it a great pleasure to know them.”
”I start with the seedling, and I don't want to leave it. I don't feel I really know the story if I don't watch the plant all the way along. So I know every plant in the field. I know them intimately, and I find it a real pleasure to know them.”
As you might image, a female scientist using this language at that time, she was ridiculed and actually stopped publishing for a number of years. She was later awarded a Nobel Prize for her work. All the components of mindfulness are here in her words: curious, non-judgmental, receptive, loving-kindness, emptying herself to receive the information.
So simple and also complex.
What gets in the way of listening?
One of the most compelling articulations of what gets in the way comes from Martin Buber, who talked about an I-Thou as opposed to an I-It relationship.
“In the I-Thou encounter we relate to each other as authentic beings, without judgment, qualification or objectification. I meet you as you are and you meet me as who I am.
In the I-thou relationship what is key is how I am with you in my own heart and mind. The I-It encounter is the opposite in that we relate to another as object, completely outside of ourselves.”
We can speak of I-Thou and I-It relationships to other person, to ourselves (especially to part of ourselves that we don’t like), to animals, and to the environment.
An example of the intention of I-Thou is the greeting in Nepal of “Namaste” which I discussed on July 7. Many indigenous cultures have their own word which conveys the same connotation. I still feel the difference between saying Namaste vs. saying hello. It’s more than the words. It’s being reminded of the intention and the whole body experience: seeing and acknowledging the other person, smiling, slightly bowing the head, bringing the hands together, saying the words. And the pausing to do this.
Othering is not always obvious
A person who worked at a homeless shelter, spoke of her experience.
“Over the years I have sat in numerous meetings with the agenda of helping ‘the homeless.’ The term “the homeless” distances us from seeing the humanity in the families that I was working with at the shelter. They were more than homeless families. Being homeless was just a state of being not who they were as individuals. A few years ago, I began to shift my internal and external language away from using the term ‘the homeless’ as way to describe the lovely folks I was working with. In doing so, I moved away from the I-It relationship that Buber described as being a relationship based on seeing others as things or in this case as objects which can easily be dehumanizing.”
To emphasize that this is not just semantics, I offer this exercise about language with “cancer” and with “homeless.”
working with homeless people
working with cancer people
working with people who are homeless
working with people who are cancer
working with people struggling with homelessness
working with people struggling with cancer
The Sapir-Whorf hypothesis proposes that language shapes and influences our perceptions. Having been deeply immersed in another country’s culture and language, I agree with the hypothesis.
And so we make the attempt to understand, to develop, and to embody principles of mindfulness and mindful listening with our family, our friends, our “enemies,” and our colleagues.