Recently,I’ve thought about what I’ve written about “The Art of Listening”:Almost as a self polemic if that is truly possible.You see,for the majority of my life,I’ve been engrossed in the process of listening,of trying to grasp what I’ve heard,the way it affects me ,it’s essence I suppose.
While I appreciate that you can’t assign the title yourself of being a good listener,you can aspire to it,and it has ,in sincerity,been my aspiration to be just that,a good listener.Lets be straight,it’s a noble thing to aspire too is it not,with society at large celebrating those whom they elevate among their peers if they acquire this life skill of being “a good listener”
Our perception though plays havoc with what we listen to,and by that I have a personal illustration.This afternoon,after a period of quite intense physical activity,I listened to some music through my headphones.Granted,it was one of those conference Jazz performances where each player is in a different state but there was one conductor come keyboard player.Its affect on me was striking and the sounds oscillated inside my mind like having a free rein to a Willy Wonka type sweet cavern.It enticed my perception,sucking me in through the sounds of a keyboard,upright bass,percussion and Drummer.They were a fusion of East coast ,NewOrleans,and Tampa bay players,and I repeated the track quite a few times.
Now,by rights,I should be sleeping,but I can still hear those sounds now,in this delayed moment of sound palatial joy that probably I have always had.Now,I do think that people want to be good listeners,but maybe that obsession sonic gene that I have means that I take my listening skills extremely seriously.For example,I like it when a person says hello because I hear their voice ,and that gives me a wi Dow into their person,all be it a perception and not truly a reality but I still take so much stock my the process of listening.
In the years since I started writing my blog,I have often commented on the importance of listening and though ,by rights,I should be asleep,my perception of those sounds that I listened too earlier today are still there ,embedded ,rooted,pile driven into my sonic heart of appreciation.
Maybe I could write more about this but I fear that I might have said too much,but my final paragraph is more of an anthem of appreciation for the gift of hearing,the translation of the mind,the sheer joy that organised sounds bring to us all and how they affect our whole bodies ,sustaining us in ways that we don’t. Always appreciate.
Thank you for repeating with me the joy of listening.