The 'deep spring' of listening

Dear friends:

As a journalist, I’ve often made my living by listening to peoples’ stories. I’ve always been fascinated by those moments of powerful connection that arise when we are truly present with another as they speak from the heart about their experiences.

These moments often take my breath away. As I am fully present with the other person, I notice that I am also keenly aware of my own mind, heart and body receiving their story.

No matter our differences, I can recognise something of my own story in theirs. I am filled with a sense of connection and gratitude.

Often it is in these moments that I feel most fully alive.

Reflecting on the power of deep, generative listening in different conversations lately, I got thinking about the qualities of my own listening. And wishing to become more mindful, more attuned and compassionate, in my listening.

Knowing how I feel when others take the time to really listen to me, I am reminded of the service we all can render to those other beings who cross our paths, simply by listening with our full presence and generous attention.

In truth, however, it took me a long time to give the power of listening its due. I think a part of me held the typically ‘western’ narrative - never quite consciously examined - that dismisses listening as not all that important, and kind of passive.

Often it is assumed that the one who does the greater share of listening in a conversation is less important, has less power. It is the patient who gets interrupted by their doctor a mere six seconds after launching their explanation of what brought them there. Which explains why mansplaining has become such a powerful trope representing gender inequality.

But real listening, deep listening, is anything but passive. It is skillful and generous. In many cultures, this capacity for deep, quiet listening is considered an essential part of being human.

It offers a rare and intangible gift. As I recently heard the story activist Mary Alice Arthur observe, by giving another the time, space and attention to discover a richer, fuller story within their own experience, the listener can be a catalyst for transformation.

Leadership coach Nancy Kline writes in her book Time to Think: Listening to Ignite the Human Mind, that when you listen to another person with empathy and generosity, you help that person to think more richly and clearly, and to reach new insights they would not have been able to access on their own.

These observations highlight the relational qualities of listening. That precious intention of seeing another not through the lens of your own assumptions, but as they are asking to be seen, in their own sovereignty and integrity. ‘We were fascinated to discover that when someone in your presence is trying to think, much of what you are hearing and seeing is your effect on them,’ Kline writes.

Working with organisations around the world, she and her team found time and again that creative and elegant problem solving flourished in those organisations where people were listened to with respect, and were actively encouraged and supported to do their best thinking.

‘The best conditions for thinking, if you really stop and notice, are not tense. They are gentle. They are quiet. They are not rushed. They are stimulating but not competitive. They are encouraging. They are paradoxically both rigorous and nimble,’ writes Kline.

Going a chord deeper, an Australian friend recently told me about the concept of dadirri (pronounced da-derr-ree), and shared with me the work of Dr. Miriam-Rose Ungunmerr-Baumann, an Aboriginal activist, educator, artist and elder of the Ngangikurungkurr people who has introduced the concept more widely.

Dadirri is the quality of ‘inner deep listening, and quiet still awareness… the deep spring that is inside us,’ Ungunmerr-Baumann writes.

She writes: ‘In our Aboriginal way, we learnt to listen from our earliest days. We could not live good and useful lives unless we listened. This was the normal way for us to learn - not by asking questions. We learnt by watching and listening, waiting and then acting. Our people have passed on this way of listening for 40,000 years…’

Just as people speak, so does the land: the wind, the stream, the tree, the dragonfly and the jaguar. Can we still our minds enough to listen to the different songs and stories that surround us, weaving their threads of experience into the larger web that connects us all?

Through dadirri, Ungunmerr-Baumann writes, people connect deeply to their natural surroundings, noticing and developing a fuller awareness of the rhythms around them. The rains filling up the rivers. The cycles of birth and death, growth and decay. It is a practice of presence and patience; a practice that cultivates peace and understanding as it also builds capacity for healing and rejuvenation - as glimpsed in this exquisite 3-minute meditation (and movie trailer :).

This week I am noticing this deep and silent spring within me, an ongoing source of life and renewal. I am curious to understand how I could connect more deeply with this source, and what would happen if I simply allowed myself to slow down and feel its silent presence within me. I am curious to practice listening to the world from this place of deep stillness within.

And I invite you to notice the deep spring inside of you. What emerges in you, if you really stop and listen?

With love,

Megan