Listening

Hello friends. Ignatius said: “our manner is ordinary — immersed in the fabric of everyday life, to find the divine in all things.” Our habit of explaining, rather than listening, often gets in the way of understanding. We spend much of our time not hearing what the other person is saying. In a loving relationship this is probably a given; we are more intent on giving reasons why, rather than consider the other person’s why not.

Nature’s lessons are much more direct. The bird sings, Cat Max requests his supper with his familiar chatter. Humans could learn a lesson from them. Arguing is an age-old game in politics as well as in relationships, and reasons pile up more as excuses than insights. If, as Ignatius urged, we seek the divine in all things, it’s better to listen than to talk. Both Google and Wikipedia have a lot of useful information, but do those online wizards actually know anything besides facts?

Listening

Education blesses and spoils us,
we know more but listen less.
Our distracted brain becomes unsteady
vying with Google and Wikipedia.

How can we be so smart
yet ignore the crippled kids of Yemen,
hurt by Saudi and American weapons?
That it has always been so is no excuse.

Embrace our core values, learn to listen
on a basic level like the house wren,
calling clear from a native azalea
as I walk by with the morning paper.

I reply tea-kettle, tea-kettle
in our monk-like refrains, meaning
“your nests are safe and I love you, Bird.
Have fun on this winter day.”

It’s a simple exchange that goes deep.
No need to convert or send armies,
or call international meetings,
to go to Mars on the nearest rocket.

I’m still not very good at listening,
learning slowly from demands of love
and my memory of cat Max,
who summoned us with nightly chants.

How I miss his voice sharing his soul.