In the quiet of an early morning or in the depth of night my senses are stilled.

The blackness of the sky reveals only tiny pinpricks of light and my room is shrouded with the invisible. The birds outside are still resting in their feathers, my cat long ago shuttered her purrs. Even my husband’s breath beside me is soft and I hear nothing.

Not a sound outside me stirs, not a sliver of light perceptible, yet I am filled with the chaos of unrelenting thoughts catapulting through my mind like moths frantically flying around a lamp, never landing.

It is only in these quiet hours when the world around me falls away and my senses are attuned to nothing that I realize how loud and noisy my internal world can be. All day long I am busy with the tasks of daily living that I can easily ignore the needs, thoughts, and desires within me.

I thought about all this recently when I was out with friends. This summer I jettisoned my cell phone when I discovered the town I moved to had no cellular service. Without a phone attached to my hands I had nothing to play with during the lulls in conversation or activity. Instead, I observed as those around us frequently fiddled with their smart screens, captured by the dizzying offerings available at a finger’s touch. Even when spoken to, or when speaking I watched as people became distracted over and over and over again.

She’s totally ignoring him. I watched as a woman crafted a long text all the while disregarding her male companion.
They’re not really paying attention to each other. I shuddered as a group of friends each reflexively reached for their phone when a buzz went off at their table.

I was frustrated by the distractions, frustrated by the lack of attention, frustrated by the unshakable feeling that our cultural notions of respect are becoming thread bare. It feels like we’re not really listening to each other.

And then, with the kind of sudden realization that knocks me from my center, I thought, when have I really listened to myself lately?

Sure, I may have given up my mobile device but that doesn’t me I’ve been any more present to my own thoughts.

Think about the last time you felt someone wasn’t listening to you carefully. It sucked right? It’s amazing how affected we are by not being heard. And yet, we do this to ourselves all. the. time. If we can’t even be present to our own thoughts, how will we be able to listen well to others?

Distractions are inevitable–they will always be a part of our lives. And yet, every moment we can bring ourselves back to the present moment, back to what’s in front of us, the better it will be for us all.

As I lay in bed that night, struggling to stay present to myself before falling asleep, I took deep breaths and acknowledged my meandering mind. If it’s going to take me on a journey, the least I can do is stay present to the adventure.

***

Have you heard your Self lately? What can you do today to listen closely? Keep asking this week, “How well am I listening?”

Lastly, consider this poem by Juan Ramon Jimenez
[translated by Robert Bly]:

Oceans
I have a feeling that my boat
has struck, down there in the depths,
against a great thing.
And nothing
happens! Nothing…Silence…Waves…

-–Nothing happens? Or has everything happened,
and are we standing now, quietly, in the new life?

xo
Natanya

Photo by: Jay Harrison