It goes against the grain. These days the
call to action is a call to accept challenges, to get stuck in, to manage,
achieve, multi-task, move on, speed into the future, compete and overcome
obstacles in our way. 2012's Paralympics were the peak of our achievements in
this mode and it is a mode that is worthy of acclaim and admiration.
"Stop, Stay, Listen," however, suggests an
entirely different way of being, more in tune with that other, alternative
lifestyle of mindfulness, living in the moment and enjoying the present for
what it is without worrying overmuch about the future and all its complications
and consequences. To stop in our tracks in the midst of our business and
reflect, regroup, find time for ourselves and for our companions, friends and
relatives is a precious thing. But it is a difficult thing, possibly as taxing
on the energy, the mental processes and the need for persistent endeavour as
its opposite. Stopping is something
which is unsolicited, thrust upon us at a most inconvenient moment, through
illness, bereavement or some other major upheaval in our lives. Cancer survivors
frequently speak of being arrested, brought up short, forced to reassess and
adjust their value systems, attitudes to family and friends and worldview.
Stopping is an abrupt form of therapy.
To stay is a new way of being for me. All my
life I have been on the move. New homes, new jobs, new locations, new
friends... Now, with the onset of retirement and the slowing down process of
ageing (well, yes, a little!), I have to face a new challenge - that of staying
rather than moving on. The 'me' I am now may stay a little longer than the
former 'me's; there may be a little less shape-shifting going on. The home I
now live in may well be my home for a little longer than I have been used to. I
may have to get used to spring cleaning it now and then rather than simply abandoning
it and moving house!
Listen! The most difficult challenge of all.
Growing, as I said earlier (in an unguarded, self-confessional moment), a
little older, I am beginning to develop that common phenomenon, shared by many
of my peer group, of complaining that the television is indistinct, that young
people mumble, that no-one makes quite enough effort any more to enunciate
clearly so that I can understand. On the other hand, I am convinced that those
around me, especially my husband, who share a similar experience, never listen!
It's not that they are becoming hard of hearing, it is simply that they do not
concentrate, are not interested, let their attention wander and therefore fail
to pay attention to the treasures that pour from my lips. Listen, I say to him!
Just stop and listen!
Joking aside, the art of listening is a very
valuable commodity. It is an art few of us have. The art of a good conversation
is a wonderful skill, to be treasured on the rare occasions that is
encountered. It is at best a meeting of equals. I speak; you listen. There is a
pause for reflection. Then you speak; I listen. Wonderfully simple! But how
often does that happen? Most conversations are muddled, stilted, an aggressive
competition or a disjointed babble. Why? We have lost the art of listening. One
of the things I love best in rural Wales is listening - to the silence! Climb
up one of the steep, wildflower-lined, country lanes that lead out of our
village up onto the surrounding hills and stop... stay... listen. What will you
hear? Mostly nothing! Nothing at all. Not a car, not a lorry, not an angry
voice or a crying child. Just silence, punctuated occasionally by the call of a
lamb for its mother or the mewing of a buzzard soaring far above you. Listen to
the silence. It is the best music of all and healing for the soul.
No comments:
Post a Comment