I am listening to a lot of podcasts at the moment. They are easy air fillers and I have found topics that I find interesting. Things like the Lance Armstrong scandal, or British politics from the 1970s, the Waco Deaths and Spy stories. Perhaps I just choose very polite presenters, but I have noticed at the end of a section, they thank me for listening. I take that personally, even though I know that they are actually unaware of the exact details of who listens to them. I will take politeness wherever I can find it.
Podcasts don't take up too much concentration space and can be combined with other activities. And being recorded, if I miss a bit, I can always go back and hear it all again. Live conversations on the other hand are a bit more complicated. You get one shot at absorbing not only the words and the non verbal cues (like folded arms, or tears...) but you often have to interpret the feelings behind the words. Often there is a lot of interference or "noise" and meaning and intention get lost. That can be frustrating all round. Some people are better at listening than others. Really listening. It is an art. So often we are tempted to jump in with a response when just an acknowledgement is needed.
I was thinking about this a couple of weeks ago as I was walking to a meeting up the road. It was a beautiful soft day, and as I closed my back gate I heard a whoop of delight. Council workers were weed eating the field edges behind our house. One of the guys had found a R200 note stuck in the long grass. His happiness at this windfall energised the air. I gave him a thumbs up (the noisy weed eaters were drowning out any conversation possibilities) and continued on my way up the hill. I think that R200 was a significant find for him, and it gladdened my heart.
I was still smiling about this when, a short way ahead, I saw a Mom and her two little girls walking together. The younger child was enthusiastically pointing to the sky and yelling "Aeroplane" as only a two year old can with complete delight and happiness. Her sister was about 4 I suppose, and she came hurtling towards me and wrapped her arms around my knees in a hug. I bent down to reciprocate and the two year old joined in too.
I didn't think this day could get much better, but it did! Andrew and I were travelling to Hermanus to pick up a friend for the weekend. We stopped at the Peregrine farm stall in Grabouw and I showed Andrew one of my favourite spaces - Liberty Bookshop.
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| Liberty Bookshop (not my photo!) |
It is a wonderful place, with an eclectic collection of loved and unloved books, as the assistant described them (so much nicer than calling them second hand and new...) , and they stock an interesting range of South African literature. There is also a welcoming fire with a purring cat to add to the temptation to linger. I highly recommend a visit if you are in the area and like that sort of thing.
One of the books I picked up was Brutal School Ties; the Parktown Boys Tragedy by Sam Cohen. It makes for harrowing reading, because it describes institutionalized abuse of the boys at this Johannesburg school and how much of the cruelty was put down to "Tradition." No one was listening to these youngsters of 13 and 14, until one brave child made a plan. Hundreds of children have suffered trauma, because no one heard them. Not just the words they did or didn't say, (and some did beg their parents not to send them back at the end of the weekend) but also their behaviour changes, and their grades falling to unexpected lows. The communication got stuck in the ethos of "boys will be boys", and "traditional makes you stronger."
As a society we need to learn to listen more, and with more sensitive ears. There are so many knee-hugging good things that are happening, and if we can hear those things as well as the sadness, we can maintain a balance and not get overwhelmed. I was reminded to listen with my heart.
Your reading this - whoever you are - gives my voice an audience too, and I appreciate the time you give me, and for hearing me.
Thank you for listening.
