My online journal where I share my interests in photography, nature, journaling, fountain pens, bicycling, coffee life, spirituality and the mystery of it all.
The biggest communication problem is we do not listen to understand. We listen to reply.
Stephen R. Covey
Overcast skies allowed for some predawn color on my way to the coffee shop this morning. I stopped in the parking lot at the CSU Women’s Soccer field and took this image. This is a handheld shot at ISO 500 and I used Lightroom Classic denoise in post processing. I met my friend Duane for brunch today and enjoyed the food and conversation. And the conversation is always good because we are both learning to be better listeners.
In the stillness of the quiet, if we listen, We can hear the whisper of the heart giving strength to weakness, courage to fear, hope to despair.
Dr. Howard Thurman
I took this image at noon today at Red Fox Meadows Natural Area which is a 40-acre urban wildlife refuge that is less than half mile from my condo. It also is an important stormwater detention area for the city. It truly is a corridor for wildlife as I have seen fox and deer here on many occasions. There are plenty of hawks feasting on mice that consider this their home. Yet, there are houses and traffic to the north and south of me but with the right composition I can pretty much eliminate any sign of man’s intrusion. I really need to visit more often for its stillness and quiet, for the photography, a place to journal and I can practice my flute there. Have a wonderful Monday!
The most basic and powerful way to connect to another person is to listen. Just listen. Perhaps the most important thing we ever give each other is our attention…. A loving silence often has far more power to heal and to connect than the most well-intentioned words.
It has been a laid back Friday for me. I rode the bicycle to coffee and then relaxed the rest of the day. Relaxing included: lots of reading, writing this short blog post, making tuna salad, took my monthly shower and even put on clean underwear.
Foxtail barley, Bobtail barley, Squirreltail barley, and Intermediate barley
Someone who is filled with ideas, concepts, opinions and convictions cannot be a good host. There is no inner space to listen, no openness to discover the gift of the other. It is not difficult to see how those “who know it all” can kill a conversation and prevent an interchange of ideas. The more mature we become the more we will be able to give up our inclination to grasp, catch, and comprehend the fullness of life and the more we will be ready to let life enter into us.
Henri Nouwen
I don’t know but there sure seems to be too many “who know it all” or worse yet, who “think they know it all.” Wouldn’t it be wonderful if more people listened and were open to discover the gift of the other. Then we all could just call this grass barley. I hope you have a wonderful weekend!
Time as objective reality has never made much sense to me. It’s what happens that matters. How can minutes and years, devices of our own creation, mean the same thing to gnats and to cedars? Two hundred years is young for the trees whose tops this morning are hung with mist. It’s an eyeblink of time for the river and nothing at all for the rocks…If there is meaning in the past and in the imagined future, it is captured in the moment. When you have all the time in the world, you can spend it, not on going somewhere, but on being where you are. So I stretch out, close my eyes, and listen to the rain.
Robin Wall Kimmerer
As a young man I would lay in the grass and daydream. Seems I usually ventured into the future, accomplishing feats such as being the hero in the big game or the hero saving the fair maiden. Now that I am older I’m able to look back and see how those daydreams kept me from living in the moment. I was not experiencing the world I was a part of. The lessons they have given me is an awareness that helps me live in the now more often and the desire to live there. The gift of photography, recovery from alcoholism, and a spiritual practice have also been key in that transformation. Now when I stretch out, close my eyes, and listen to the rain I am learning to be present and enjoy the rain. I have the time to be present.
I pray to the birds. I pray to the birds because I believe they will carry the messages of my heart upward. I pray to them because I believe in their existence, the way their songs begin and end each day—the invocations and benedictions of Earth. I pray to the birds because they remind me of what I love rather than what I fear. And at the end of my prayers, they teach me how to listen.
Terry Tempest Williams
We’ve had a steady mist all morning and they are predicting heavier rain later this afternoon. It is welcomed moisture and much the same for the next four days. Seems my photographer’s eye has been drawn to clouds and birds the past few weeks. The song birds have put on some wonderful concerts that keep me coming back for more. If I could change one thing in Williams quote it would be the phrase “pray to.” I would like it to say “pray with.” And, I do believe their songs are teaching me to listen! Happy Saturday!
And there is a fine distinction between “listen to” and “to listen.” When we “listen to” we are actively engaging our senses of sound for a particular audible cue. But, when we choose “to listen,” we are opening ourselves up to the sounds of silence and solitude; to ways and words unanticipated, unscripted and often—unfamiliar. We do not choose these words; they choose us.
Albert Lewis
I walked along the edges of one of the ponds at Arapaho Bend Natural Area yesterday evening. This pond is called Big Bass Pond, so I assume at least one large bass was caught there. The water is low until we see snow melt and rains in a the coming weeks. When I found a spot that spoke to me I set up my tripod and camera, grabbed my journal and pen and sat down on the uncomfortable rocky shore to soak it up. I would take a half dozen images then write, repeating for 40 minutes until my butt said that’s enough and I became chilled. I slowly found myself in a place “to listen” to the sound of the water lapping at me feet and feeling the cooling breeze in my face. The words were just what I needed. I hope on my next visit I will be again in a place “to listen”
