Hi friends,
After a meeting yesterday, I listened to part of Bach’s Cello Suite #1 on the train ride home. The music gave me this hyper-aware sensation, so that the vines of bright yellow bittersweet tumbling over the fencing along the train line, the slanting shadows and patterned light on the walls rising up from the tracks as we whizzed by, the hands of the woman across from me - tattooed in the webbing between her thumb and forefinger, dirt under her long fingernails, at least three rings per hand - were all uncommonly vivid. It was as though listening deeply also forced me to look deeply.
We’re all hurtling toward the busiest - and for some, the most emotional - time of year. I hope we can all capture moments for both looking and listening in depth - whether accidental or intentional. Beyond just calming down and having a moment of presence, you can:
Look and listen to open up. The more we listen to and trust ourselves, the more we’re able to feel our feelings - everything from joy to grief to worry and sorrow. Then we can identify the things that really move us, those we should be paying the closest attention to. It’s my favorite kind of self-care - the kind that doesn’t cost anything but my time and attention. Besides, what’s the cost of not attending to those things that really move us?
Look and listen to cultivate trust. Trust - the firm belief in the reliability, truth, and ability of someone or something - is in short supply these days. We need more trust! If citizens, regular people like me and you, can repair and/or build our trust in each other, maybe we’d begin to make a wider path toward taking collective action to change the ways that politics and business aren’t serving our interests or the interests of our planet.
Look and listen to live more deeply. When you look and listen closely, you’re paying attention. When you’re paying attention, you’re learning and experiencing something more deeply than you would have otherwise. On my train ride, the way my attention was riveted in one way (music), riveted it in another way (observation). The quality of this attention made for an excellent 20 minutes of my day, after which I was full of well-being. More of this for its own sake, please - the idea of attention as experience, as Dan Nixon writes.
I’m keeping this short, and there’s no newsletter next week while I attempt to make a dent in the giant pile of books I just bought. Sending you off into the Thanksgiving whirlwind with loads of appreciation for you, and almost as much anticipation for pie. See you in December.
XO
Leigh