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S. Podry's avatar

When I pause, as you suggest, I notice a deeper listening. Or rather, a calming pull downward somehow guided by an interest in some inner enriching stillness. It’s as if listening itself is in love with allowing me to be in contact with finer and finer subtleties… I remember poet Walt Whitman, “I think I will do nothing for a long time but listen, / And accrue what I hear into myself… and let sounds contribute toward me…” I notice I’m not listening for any specific words or message. It’s like listening itself is the message and the meaning, and I think of Rumi in a “constant conversation” with the unnamed Beloved who appears to be everywhere…And now Whitman comes to me again, “Mine is no callous shell, / I have instant conductors all over me whether I pass or stop…/I merely stir, press, feel with my fingers, and am happy. / To touch my person to someone else’s is about as much as I can stand.” Finally, an image appears, from a poem by Rilke… “Animals created by silence came forward from the clear / and relaxed forest where their lairs were, /and it turned out the reason they were so full of silence / was not cunning, and not terror, / it was listening…”

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