Live Streaming from Kentucky
I’m lying alone in my tent beside a stream in Kentucky; just listening. The rippling waters remind me that if I start listening for something, I’m off track.
If I begin to think that the practice of listening has a goal - like to hear something worthy of writing about in these blog posts or to receive some nugget of wisdom to support my life’s journey, then I’ve also missed the mark.
As I lie there listening, the stream from Kentucky beckons again - with its straightforward style and all the gentleness of the waters themselves - The practice itself is listening!
Like the simple and yet profound power of our breathing, we’ve heard about the importance of listening so many times in our lives that it no longer holds any meaning for many of us. So at the risk of redundancy, let me repeat what I just said so that the simplicity and clarity of what I’m saying (to you and myself) can be understood. The practice is listening. That’s it! What follows listening may be action or something that requires us doing something but it all begins with the practice of being, which is to say, listening.
As I engaged with this simple listening endeavor while lying in my sleeping bag in Kentucky, I imagined an ancient reciprocity between myself and the stream. Perhaps it makes its soothing music for us to hear? It’s an unrelenting and compelling invitation that wafts out on waves of sound. But who hears its calling these days? Who will sit and listen during these busy times when we must first be convinced of the value of something lest we “waste” our time? Will you go to the river? If you must, go ahead and bring your devices of distraction like books and smart phones but at least put them down for a spell so the beauty of the river can have its chance to remind you of your relationship with it. I’ve found that for many of us living in the dominant culture of the United States at least, the river is going to need some time to have its way with you in order to get through to you. It was undoubtedly easier for our ancestors but with each generation today, the work of re-membering with rivers and streams becomes more arduous and therefore requires more diligence, time, and effort. An intellectual acknowledgment of our interdependence simply won’t suffice.
To my listening ears I heard the Middle Fork of the Red River in its untethered exuberance; a glowing example of what it looks and sounds like to fully and completely embody and express soul force! I thought, “You too can reveal your beauty in this way Knowles!”
What does the river wish to convey to you?
Go sit beside it and just listen.
