The older I get, the more I value listening. I'm not talking about hearing and processing information. I mean listening. The art of leaning in, paying attention, absorbing an idea, and engaging in active, open curiosity in response.
I love when others listen to me with this degree of care, and I am actively working on being a better listener to others and myself. I want to listen well, no matter who is speaking, and in order to listen well to others, I need to listen well to myself. The voice inside me deserves the same kindness and attention I would give others.
Listening is a delicate dance between information and intuition.
On the one hand, information is important. We need nuts and bolts, whether it is a to-do list or a recipe or a request from a friend. The specifics matter. The rules and routines matter. They ground us and can provide a thethering from potential chaos.
But on the other hand, rules do not create much space for change. Rules by definition are very black and white, crowding out the potential for what is possible. Rules are clear and certain, which can be comforting, but they do not provide a complete picture.
Intuition is the place where possibility comes to life and creativity thrives. Intuition is the grey space, where black and white begin to meld, merging into new shades that give depth and dimension to something that can otherwise become flat.
If rules are hearing, then intuition is listening.
I am naturally a black and white person, never lacking for quick judgements or opinions, very attuned to what I perceive to be right or wrong in a given situation, and prone to find comfort in a well-organized to-do list.
My natural inclination towards black and white thinking means I have to work intentionally to bring my intuition to the forefront. Instead of shushing her curious voice, I am learning to welcome her and listen closely to what she has to say. Then, as I interact with others, I listen with the same openness, loving my neighbor as myself.
In this way, the desire to hear information and the desire to listen intuitively can coexist. The key is listening deeply, actively, and with a whole heart. To banish the shushing and welcome the curiosity. To pull up a chair next to the quiet inner voice and invite her to say more. To see the need for structure while creating space for change and possibility.
The art of listening, as far as I can tell, is learning the delicate dance between acknowledging the black-and-white truth of an idea, appreciating the nuance and freedom that can exist within that idea, and believing there is beauty to be found in both.
