Listening Season
- Anne Lawrence, Ph.D.
- Mar 31
- 3 min read
The Thing with Feathers
For me, March has been a month of listening on the growing edge of spring. At dawn, the bluebirds in my backyard awaken me to the new day. Through the open window, I hear the nestlings crying for their breakfast and the parents promising return. Their morning call-and-response songs could be a monastic choir chanting psalms for Lauds. In their voices, I hear hope; in their silence, trust. Listening becomes prayer as their music opens me to the silence of morning meditation.
On March 10, I was similarly honored to participate in an interfaith vigil for peace in the Middle East. Like spring songbirds defying winter, people of different faith traditions gathered to “pray for those who have died and for the vulnerable ones who are bearing the greatest share of suffering.” Leaders in Baha’i, Buddhist, Christian, Jewish, Muslim, and Sikh communities voiced their deepest hopes in a variety of languages. Across the distances dividing us, each prayer ascended on bright wings. As Emily Dickinson understood, “Hope is the thing with feathers.”
The Rev. Doyeon Park, a minister of the Manhattan Won Buddhist Temple and a United Nations representative, reminded us, “Peace begins when compassion becomes stronger than fear, and wisdom guides our words and actions.” She offered the blessing, “May all beings be free from fear. May all beings live in safety. May all beings live in peace.” The echoing tone of her singing bowl lifted her words into the air, where the blessing seemed to soar in ever-widening circles of harmony until serene silence united us all.
Listening for Life
Open the door to go outside for a walk.
Pause on the threshold of your home, taking a few conscious breaths.
Become aware of what has changed in your surroundings.
As you walk, notice what you can see, hear, smell, touch, and taste, if anything.
As you breathe, let your body and face relax.
Pause when you come to what feels like a growing edge for you: for example, where a pathway yields to wilderness.
Keep company with the growing edge, listening to whatever wisdom it wants to share with you.
Listen to your own heart:
What is alive in me here now?
What growing edge in me needs attention?
When I listen to this growing edge in me, what do I learn?
Thank the inner growing edge for your time together, perhaps offering a blessing.
Thank the outer growing edge for your time together, perhaps offering a blessing.
As you return home, take a small growth step.
Pause on the threshold of your home, taking a few conscious breaths.
Open the door to go inside.
Become aware of what has changed in you.
Listened into Life
Explore the following questions in a journal reflection:
When have I experienced supportive listening? (When I pause and bring gentle care to my inner life, what memory of supportive listening comes into my awareness?)
Where was I during this experience?
What age was I during this experience?
Who was listening to me? (The listener might have been a nature companion, like an animal, a tree, a mountain, or a river.)
What made this listening so supportive?
How did this supportive listening affect me?
What magic word can help me to reconnect with this experience of supportive listening whenever I wish?
In this season of my life, how might I offer supportive listening to myself?
How might I offer supportive listening to others?
