LISTENING TO THE QUIET AT 75

Late Fall and the onset of Winter in Michigan can be downright dreary.  Bright snow falling back in the day used to blanket the ugly bare ground, but climate change has squashed that. Damp, cold, dark days pile up.

Nature has her ways of  slowing down, gathering warmth, sheltering from  the storm;  a wayward bat found it's way into our laundry room  to find refuge from the elements as the cold weather  advanced in November.

On Thanksgiving, I turned seventy-five and the Lions lost to the Packers at Ford Field.  Turning seventy-five was more of a milestone than I expected.  It's a big number!  

My family coordinated the assembly of a reflection/memories book of photos and writing which touched me deeply.  This birthday set me upon a course of reflection amid the Winter doldrums that persisted throughout the Christmas Season and into the  New Year.

At the end of January, I traveled South to reflect, to explore, to socialize, to walk, to ride, to discover, to listen.

The monks at the Abbey of Gethsemani in Kentucky  reminded me of the benefits of solitude, quiet, and routine.  I'm learning (maybe for the first time) to listen: to myself, to nature, to the Universe, to my life partner, Cathe.

I've discovered that listening is not passive, nor is it active. 

Listening is engaged.

In the moment.

Focused.

An activity with its own parameters.

When I walk in nature, I listen to birds, to the wind, to the crackle of sticks, to my own feet contacting the ground one step at a time.

In solitude, I listen to my breath going into my nostrils and out through my lips. My chest rises and falls with each breath.

Life within me.

And I feel grateful.

When I listen carefully, I understand how seemingly unrelated people and  can become congruent and and symbolize the unity of people... a  sixty something Tupelo, Mississippi tourist telling  about his  warm childhood encounter with Elvis Presley, an Ocala Florida strawberry grower  espousing the importance of family and hard work, a gay white Mobile Alabama hairdresser advocating more study of Black History as we prepared to tour Africatown.

Listening to History at the M.L. King Center in Atlanta clarified how deep spiritual knowledge and faith propelled Dr. King to persevere during horrific oppression, personal attacks, and the fear of failure.  I'll be rereading his "Letter from a Birmingham Jail" again soon.

Listening to the life stories of Jimmy and Rosalyn Carter in Plains  reminded me of  the value of curiosity, commitment, family, education and faith. What a testament to "Lives well lived." Jonathan Alter's biography of Jimmy Carter motivated me to find out more about the first President I voted for who actually won.

Listening includes both interaction and introspection, sounds and silence, people and solitude, being and doing.

Assertively making time and space for more listening is good for me going forward.

And for all of us.