The Art of Listening

"Sleep that knits up the ravelled sleave of care
The death of each day's life, sore labour's bath
Balm of hurt minds, great nature's second course,
Chief nourisher in life's feast."
- William Shakespeare, Macbeth

Flaming June, Lord Frederic Leighton, Oil on canvas, 1895
Ponce Museum of Art, Peurto Rico

Last night another round of thunderstorms rolled through Weldon Spring. They were not frightening, as the ones that rolled through Oklahoma yesterday had been. They were comforting.

Distant flashes of light and soft rumbles filled the quiet night air. The rain tip-tip-tipped steadily, and Brother Wind swayed the trees quite gently. My window was cracked and the cool breeze crept in, but I was wrapped in the comforting warmth of loving arms throughout the night.

Morning came amidst the dark cold rain, the sun deeply subdued and barely perceptible. The birds must know that the rain will continue all day, and are filling the morning with song. Brother Wind is still passing through the scene outside my window, creating the most pleasing rocking motion through the trees. Even he (who enjoys taunting me at times) seems to offer comfort, saying, "The week ahead will be difficult. You will need strength. We've created this gift for you...take it and rest."

I'm trying to listen more carefully these days. It's an art...one that I hope to improve.

The week ahead includes a memorial celebration for my mother, and will be very special, yet difficult, I'm sure. Today I have no work that can't wait until afternoon. I have darkness, and light rain, and breezy cool inside and out. I have this been offered this gift, and I am listening...

I think I will accept it. I'm going back to bed.

Today I wish you the pleasure of nature's gifts and the ability to listen.

Music today is the familiar and beautiful "Méditation from Thaïs" by Jules Massenet. ["Thaïs" is a beautiful opera, but one of great difficulty, and as such, is not part of the standard repertoire of many opera companies. "Méditation" is actually not a part of the opera per se, but is an entr'acte, played between the scenes of Act II.]

The legendary violinist Anne-Sophie Mutter performs with pianist Lambert Orkis in this 2008 recital. Let the music wash over you as you listen.

What do you hear? Longing? Sorrow? Strength? Peace? Only you can say what the message truly is for you...just remember how important it is to listen carefully. Please enjoy.

 

Sacred Solitude

"Inside myself is a place where I live all alone, and that's where I renew my springs that never dry up." - Pearl Buck


Solitude,  Sir Frederic Leighton, oil on canvas, 1890
Maryhill Museum of Art, Goldendale, Washington.


I believe it's sacred to spend time alone.

We live in a society so polarizing we feel pulled apart most of the time.  Demands on our time make us feel fragmented.  We describe the overload of stress as causing us to wonder if we're coming or going. 

I believe that we can learn to feel more whole by spending some of our time in solitude.

By that, I don't mean simply being alone, watching television, reading, working out, or surfing the internet. I see solitude as a chosen period of time used for the purpose of reflection, prayer, or meditaton.

To me, solitude is a chance to listen and appreciate. You may choose to "saunter through the woods for four hours a day, at least," as Henry David Thoreau did, or you might choose to sit in silence in a comfortable chair for fifteen minutes each morning.

Those of you who know me well know that I've been practicing a meditation for over a year now called Inner Smile, based on precepts which combine The Tao and Traditional Chinese Medicine (ooh, that sounded complicated...it's not). Basically, it's an introspective visit to the five major internal organs of one's body (heart, spleen/stomach region, lungs, kidneys, and liver).

As I enter peacefully "into" each organ, I smile (literally...smiling into your heart, etc. is very powerful), thank it for the way it serves me, acknowledge the hard work it does, and then release any negative emotions held there (according to TCM, each organ is the storage point for positive and negative emotions, but I won't elaborate on that here). Just the simple thought that you are releasing negativity from your body can be very healing.

I absolutely love this meditation, but it may not be for you. I promise you, though, there is healing in the very act of honoring your soul by sitting with it and focusing on it alone every once in a while. It is sacred.

If you haven't made a moment of sacred solitude part of your routine yet, I encourage you to do so without guilt. It is absolutely as important as working, paying the bills, tending to the home, exercising, or playing with the kids.

As Anne Morrow Lindbergh said, "What a commentary on civilization, when being alone is being suspect; when one has to apologize for it, make excuses, hide the fact that one practices it - like a secret vice."

Don't allow anyone to encroach upon this sacred moment. You're not a recluse, or a hermit...or, godforbid, antisocial. You are taking care of yourself.

I'll get off the corner soap box now with this thought. As the original Ad Men said, "Try it, you'll like it."

Today, I hope you begin your journey to sacred solitude.

Van Morrison takes his soap box to the corner with this great performance of "The Healing Game." Many thanks to my friend, Lisa T., for this one. Enjoy!