A corps of listeners

You've probably heard of Storycorps, if you haven't already huddled into one of their community vans to interview your great aunt or the owner of the neighborhood drug store that's been there for 57 years. It's the NPR program solely dedicated to the act of listening to the extra-ordinary stories of ordinary people.

Now they have a cd collection out so you, too, can share in the delight of listening to the folks on your street. I love this title, but couldn't get away with something so earnest on my website, so here it is:

"Listening is An Act of Love"
http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=16088311

Consider giving the gift of listening this holiday season--and you don't even have to buy the box set to do it!

earfully yours,
cj

"Shhhh, quiet, please."

When I was little, I loved the library. It was a free and somewhat anonymous escape from chaos and confusion into worlds of imagination and wonder. The smell of old books was dignified and mysterious. And somehow the "shhhh" of the librarian was comforting. She guarded the silence with the fierceness of a Praetorian Guard at the gates of Rome. She knew her job was a sacred task. It took me many years to learn exactly how much so.

Today, I still love the library and frequently walk to the Decatur branch near my home. It doesn't seem as quiet these days. The librarians, no less vigilant in their friendly yet imposing watch, now have much to handle in monitoring cell phones and rebooting internet computers.

This scene is not unlike my mind most days. I frequently call on my inner librarian to quiet the rowdy revelers in my head that don't want to settle down. These self-appointed advisors arenot convinced that we'll be ok if they're off duty. But when it's quiet, the guidance I receive from connecting with self and Spirit is infinitely wiser, more adventurous, more creative, and accurate than anything I can conjure up out of my noisy brain. Probably because it bypasses the brain and comes straight from the heart--which is too polite and kind to raise its voice. So I must request, "shhhh, quiet please". I breathe in and out and listen. Sometimes I ask "what do I need to know?" Sometimes I just enjoy the quiet. The more I do it, the more I hear. And the less fearful I've become.

What's your heart whispering today?

I'm certain I don't know

One of my teachers used to say that biggest obstacle to peace was the human tendency to "lust for certainty". The need to be right, to have a guarantee, to lock down THE answer can get in the way of the good stuff in life, (you know, things like relationships, learning, exploration, growth) which can be decidedly messy and less linear.

The tricky part is that in order to learn you first have to admit you don't know. Oft-quoted Socrates himself admitted it. This can be an understandably uncomfortable position to visit, not to mention to live in. And in this day of polarized positions, we don't get a whole lot of cultural training or support on stretching into the gray area of not knowing. Our whole system is set up to measure, analyze, get answers. We worship at the altar of Opinion and Empirical Knowledge.

In her book "Finding Our Way--Leadership for an Uncertain Time" (2005, Berrett-Koehler), organizational consultant Margaret Wheatley describes listening through uncertainty as a critical tool for modern relationships, both in the workplace and elsewhere:

"If you're willing to be disturbed, I recommend that you begin a conversation with someone who thinks differently than you do. Listen as best you can for what's different, for what surprises you. Try to stop the voice of judgement or opinion. Just listen. At the end of this practice, notice whether you learned anything new. Notice whether you developed a better relationship with the person you just talked with. If you try this with several people, you might find yourself laughing in delight as you realize how many unique ways there are to be human."

So what keeps us from adventuring into the Land of Not Knowing? The Wise Ones say: "Would you rather be right or be happy?" Easy to say, until I sit down to discuss the war with someone...When my pulse is racing, palms sweating, and I can't believe you just said that...it's hard to entertain the option that surrendering my RIGHTness could lead to serenity.

Rumi said "Out beyond ideas of rightdoing and wrongdoing, there is a field. I'll meet you there." I've found great comfort and community in learning Nonviolent Communication--it gives me practical tools and strategies for getting to that field.

I'd like to meet you there. Stay tuned...

Listening for Now

My friend Reid loves all things audio. He enjoys sound in all its varieties like other people enjoy a great meal or a piece of art. My pal Pearl is a contemplative person, a camrade in the Resistance Against the Assault of The Media. While she is quietly observing the audio map of a neighborhood evening-- cars parking, birds chirping into nests, and humans clanking dinner dishes, he may be listening to a soundtrack of convention hall cacophony--booming announcements, caffeinated chatter and background Muzac. Yet these two seemingly dissimilar listeners share a powerful common thread: attentiveness to sound brings their experience of the present moment to life. And from what the spiritual masters like Thich Nhat Hanh and Eckhart Tolle say, this is a good thing, so I'm trying to pay attention.

I'm beginning to see (or rather hear) the beauty in tuning in to the sonic snapshots of what's going on around me. Recently I was at the 2-minute car wash, hardly the most meditative of environments. It was a hectic day, and I was feeling rushed and disheveled. Suddenly the clanking of the chain moving the conveyor belt caught my attention. I began to listen --and was pulled into the car wash world around me with a laser-like intensity: the cough of the attendant, the swoosh of water and brushes, keys jangling impatiently while we waited for our vehicles to emerge shiny and clean.

Somehow that quick tune-in lowered my blood pressure, calmed my brain and brought me back to center. Focusing on the sounds around me helped offset the disarray of mind and spirit that, ironically, often feels exacerbated by the relentless stimulus of contemporary urban life. Maybe that's why the NPR Soundclips series is so popular. From clips of antique engines to defective ceiling fans and noisy dryers, the bizarre and mundane are transformed into an audio canvas of storytelling and life.

Could be worth a try. What are you listening to today? Are you here, now? Listen in.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW?

My apologies. I'm shouting, I know. But a quote in last month's Wired Magazine really stuck with me and prompted this week's blog entry.

In that issue, Clive Thompson wrote a great article on the "new transparency" that is rapidly unveiling a reluctant corporate america. "I think that most of the rage people feel toward these big institutions, like government or corporations or media, is that they feel they're not listened to, that no one's there," says Shel Israel, coauthor of Naked Conversations. By seeming "basically like a normal human," a company can quickly generate a surge of goodwill."

What about this rage that author Israel observes as commonplace? In addition to high levels of caffeine, logjammed traffic and unrelenting schedules, could this 21st century anger actually be attributed to lack of listening? Perhaps the explosion in popularity of social media points us to a void being filled around the deep, human need to be heard?

I guess the proof is "you know where". Check it out today. Take time to really listen to someone. Respond to a blog. Ask to be heard. See how it feels.

Thanks for listening!

Listening is good business

Recently I sat quietly on a conference call and witnessed a public relations firm lose an account with a client of mine.

The client was very clear in her concerns and requests, yet the folks on the other end of the line just didn't seem to get it. They barreled forward with ideas and apologies and, being a public relations firm (no offense to my esteemed PR colleagues) did a lot of talking. What the client wanted was to be heard. By the time the call was over, so was the account.

And Listening for a Change was born.

I've been talking about launching this initiative for at least a year, but this one incident was the tipping point that launched me into cyberspace and, hopefully, connect with other listening fans and those who might want to give it a try.

So what is it about listening that makes it so rare, so hard to master, so difficult to find in this Age of Communication? Certainly we're spending enough money to be heard....the telecom industry, despite its challenges, is raking in billions of consumer dollars to keep us connected.

(And, apparently doing a good job of getting heard themselves--Telecommunications companies spent $60.3 million on political contributions over six years and a minimum of $83.4 million on lobbying over two years, according to a 2005 Center for Public Integrity analysis.)

But, I digress. Apparently we're hungry to be heard. But is anyone really listening? Certainly the majority of us have ears that work pretty well--though listening is not limited to all things audio. Nevertheless our appetite to be heard isn't being met by the fast food communications diet of our culture. Listening seems to be a little like healthy eating: we know about the food pyramid, but it's just so much easier to drive through.

What if we learned to listen, really listen, to each other. It takes a effort, to stop, be present, be curious, to actually BE with people. It might sound touchy-feely as a business strategy, but what do you have to lose? Maybe that key account...

More later. ..

Listening is important, honey!

Listen actively.
Listen empathetically.

I'll talk about this more later.

my first post

this is my first post.
only good vibes!!!