Listening with a Heart
Text: Psalm 19
I had a very intense Thanksgiving Sunday. Hoping I was familiar enough with technology, I led a Zoom service in the sanctuary; I realized there was still room for me to improve. Learning technology is like learning a new language; you learn by making mistakes – lots of them. When I went home after the service, I started preparing a Thanksgiving dinner for my family and friends. I smoked a spatchcocked turkey for the first time, hoping it would turn out better than my Zoom service. The result was a success; my labour of love did not go unnoticed and long-lasting memories were created with those gathered at the table. On the following day, I was so tired that I needed something to inspire me. That was when I found the documentary film, My Octopus Teacher.
My Octopus Teacher describes the impact a wild octopus had on the life of South African filmmaker Craig Foster. Foster spent a year with an octopus he discovered during his daily swim in the ocean. He visited the octopus everyday and learned about her secret world. By visiting her den and tracking her movements for months, he won the animal’s trust. At one point in the film, she gently extended one of her arms to touch and smell the fingers of her human guest. The pair bonded by dancing and playing until the day the octopus got attacked by a pyjama shark and lost one of her arms. She retreated to her den to recover and regenerate her arm. Later, after the octopus mated with another octopus and produced many eggs, she died; the film showed a shark taking her body away. Foster’s unlikely friendship with the octopus made a huge impact on his life, especially his relationships with other people and with the natural world.
After watching the film, I began to reflect on all the creatures in the world and in my life. I realized that I could not eat octopus anymore. I also found myself thinking about the dog my family had when I was young; she and I played together until one day she mysteriously disappeared and never came home. She has stayed in my heart ever since. I thought of the moth that landed on my shoulder on the last night of a retreat I attended. I was uplifted by the retreat and believe the moth was drawn to the loving energy I felt in my body. The moth sat still with absolute trust for five minutes, which felt like an eternity; the moth would have stayed longer if a staff person had not shooed it away. On my regular walks, I enjoy watching beavers I encounter. Day and night, rain or shine, they do what beavers are supposed to do – eat, swim, build, play, and relax. Freed from all the worries in the world, they teach me how to relax and live in the present moment. All the creatures in my life have taught me how to listen with my heart.
In Psalm 19, the psalmist proclaims God’s presence in creation: “There is no verbal communication, nor are there words; Mystery’s voice is not heard with ears but rather within your heart.” The connection between Foster and the octopus was deepened when he began to listen with his heart. What could have been a random meeting between species in the ocean turned into a learning opportunity and friendship because he took the time to listen. Foster’s interactions with the octopus taught him to be a better father and human being. The octopus taught him many lessons: how to trust someone new, how to keep oneself safe, how to heal and regenerate when one is wounded, and how to sacrifice oneself for the next generation. Foster’s octopus teacher taught him to feel connected to something larger than himself and helped him want to make more of the time he had with others and nature. Foster said the octopus had taught him to feel that he was “a part of this place, not a visitor.” He noted that was “a huge difference” for him. I believe the realization was one of the greatest gifts he received from his octopus teacher. Margaret Wheatley believed we cannot experience the sacred in isolation, that it was “always an experience of connecting.” I could not agree with her more. The creatures in my life have brought me the gift of connection. They invited me to pause and to listen and pay attention to what was happening within and around me.
About a year ago, I started a clinical pastoral education course hoping to learn about listening. Deep down, I thought I already was a good listener. The fact that I believed in my listening skills proved that I was not a good listener. What I discovered throughout the course was that I could not truly listen if I always thought I knew best. I had to learn to set aside conditioned ways of thinking – my belief system, assumptions, agendas, and all the “shoulds” and “shouldn’ts” that come with my role – to really hear what the other person was saying. Listening is hard because emptying ourselves is hard. Emptying is hard because when we empty ourselves, it feels as though we are standing on bottomless sand, not on solid rock. Our initial reaction is to protect ourselves against any perceived dangers by holding on to what has always been known to us. To listen is to admit that we do not know everything. To listen is to stay open to the Mystery. The gift of listening is that it helps us realize where the real source of safety can be found – not in what we have built on our own in isolation, but what can be created through connection with others. Listening creates a relationship and a sense of belonging.
Listening with one’s heart can help us break through any barriers we might face because of distance. Listening to one another can help us get through this challenging time. Though we can suffer from social distancing, we may suffer even more when we fail to listen to one another. Though many of our regular activities cannot take place, we can still practice listening. We can listen not only with our ears, but with our hearts and, in doing so, we can share the gift of connection. We can use this time of social distancing as an opportunity to strengthen our intentional listening ability. We do not need to go anywhere, we can start listening right where we are. We can listen to humans, but also to flowers, trees, pets, or birds. The good news is that there is no right or wrong way when it comes to listening; there is only an experience of connecting.