The Imaginative Listener
“We should all know this: that listening, not talking, is the gifted and great role, and the imaginative role. And the true listener is much more beloved, magnetic than the talker…”
This is from an essay I’ve long had in the back of my mind by Brenda Ueland, titled “The Art of Listening.” The listener, she says, is “more effective” and does more good. She also writes about listening with affection, which is a skill and a practice, too. I’ve been asking myself: How am I at listening, now? I find that those works and ideas that I’ve carried with me for years are all worth revisiting. I’m re-reading and asking myself, now, now what does this mean? How has this changed? Is it more powerful? Less? And in the case of this piece, I ask myself, am I an imaginative listener? How could I better bring my imaginative self to the role of listener? What are the obstacles now that make listening so tricky?
I feel like maybe I’ve said these things and quoted from these sources all before. But maybe if I need to think the ideas through again, perhaps you do as well. In my well-dogeared book by Krista Tippet, Becoming Wise: An Inquiry into the Mystery and Art of Living, I return to page 29 where she speaks about “generous listening.” Listening she says, “is an everyday social art, but it’s an art we have neglected and must learn anew.” Generous listening “is powered by curiosity, a virtue we can invite and nurture in ourselves to render it instinctive. It involves a kind of vulnerability — a willingness to be surprised, to let go of assumptions and take in ambiguity.” This type of listening “yields better questions,” and she says, “it’s not true what they taught us in school; there is such a thing as a bad question.”
I think we know, as she also says, that “answers mirror the questions they rise, or fall, to meet.” We’re going to answer simplistic questions with simplistic answers, she says. “It’s hard to transcend a combative question. But it’s hard to resist a generous question. We all have it in us to formulate questions that invite honesty, dignity, and revelation.”
Okay, so a lot of these thoughts were with me when I wrote Everything Affects Everyone. And I think pre-pandemic, I was quite adept at this type of listening, this type of questioning, answering. In fact, when the book came out I had this very beautiful email interview with the brilliant Kerry Clare on her blog Pickle Me This, and we got around to talking about libraries and the reference interview and I said this:
Well, to immediately circle back to libraries, I think I’ve just realized, because of this conversation that we’re having right now, that so much of the book is informed by my experience of what we like to call in the biz, “the reference interview.” Wow. And so what every library worker knows and works toward, and really this is one of my life’s main raison d’êtres, is the perfection of the reference interview. Which is ever unattainable, a work in progress, the holy grail of library work. Because, as in most conversations, a lot of what happens is sidelong. Sure there is often the straightforward person who comes in wanting X book, asks for X book, and walks out with same. Wonderful, that! But often the person arrives looking for something that they can’t say, or don’t know how to say, or want to say but are too uncomfortable to say, or don’t even know that they can ask for this thing that they need. So, it is this really delicate back and forth, that must be purely openhearted, and orchestrated to not presume, to not overextend, to probe but with good intent, with a mind to privacy, a mind to empathy, and with a great deal of instinct, as to when to be blunt, or ask the really dumb or super open ended questions, when to be silent, when to nod. It’s an exercise in hope and humility and curiosity and must be filled with a genuine interest in the human before you.
As an introvert who is quite decent at pretend-extroverting for reasonable intervals, I have always made of listening an art form. But I am very much less good at it at this present moment in time. Two years of low-grade pandemic trauma, then throw in a few stressful circumstances (mom in hospital for one!), and then the Covid-recovery thing (three weeks and a bit since +), and well, yah, I’m struggling.
Which is a good thing really to just identify! And then I’m finding that there are things that are helping me be a better listener. I used to mainly read the transcripts of podcasts I like. I’m a fast reader and I just really wanted to sponge things up you know? But now, I’m slowing myself down and I’m listening. I subscribe to the On Being newsletter and in the most recent one dear Pádraig Ó Tuama says on the Sylvia Boorstein episode “This hour is rich, and if you’ll allow me to give you advice, you might want to listen to it twice.” And I thought to myself, that’s silly — I would never have to listen to a podcast twice. But then, I did. And oh. Oh! He was right. Because, there’s just so much to think about that sometimes you’re just going to get lost in your thoughts and miss stuff. There was this whole thing about anger and fear and fairness, for example, and I had thought I’d taken it all in. But the second time through, there was more:
“So I think that the anger is on top of the fear, and to be able to say: I am frightened, because in the world these unjust things are happening. What can I do? And how can I have a mind that’s energized to do something about it, but not reacting in anger, but responding in firm kindness? But things need to be different. Things need to be different.”
So I’ve been thinking about “firm kindness” and fear/anger. And fairness. This unjust world, right? We need action, we need to be energized. But anger isn’t helping me out, anyway. It just makes my brain shut down! So enough of that, then.
What I have learned this past while is that it’s very easy to be a buddhist among buddhists. It’s easy to be a good listener among other good listeners. But in the absence, it can be quite ridiculously difficult! Likewise, it’s very easy to be just and fair and kind among same.
When my brain is filled with the fog that makes it difficult to think let alone listen, I’ve turned to music. The very fun soundtrack to Bridgerton has been my go-to, not gonna lie. And then two songs on replay for me right now:
Mercy Now by Mary Gauthier (which is particularly poignant with my mom in hospital).
Joy by Lucinda Williams (don’t let anyone take your joy man… :) )
I think the subject of listening, really listening, is one that we (or at least I) just need to dig into quite deeply right now. So there might be more to come.
And then, also, speaking of more. I mentioned last post that I’ve started a Patreon subscription. It feels like right now, I have to try something, something new. Honestly, I’m mentally and physically EXHAUSTED, haha, and I think this will either really energize me or really deplete me, but I’m leaning towards the hope it will energize me and help me find my positive juices again. I’m going to start off with public posts and then eventually move toward more and more private ones. That’s the game plan so far anyway. If you’d like to subscribe, and read more about my “Beauty School,” please do click through to Patreon. With thanks for all your support here ongoingly!
— Shawna
May 10, 2022
