Deep Listening

“Writing fiction has developed in me an abiding respect for the unknown in a human lifetime and a sense of where to look for the threads, how to follow, how to connect, find in the thick of the tangle what clear line persists.” ― Eudora Welty

Like writing, I find dancing to be a deep form of listening. I find solace there. Constant movement settles my mind. In beginner music lessons, they teach first about meter and rhythm and once that becomes internalized, then the music can begin. The meter is the pulse, and first you must get quiet and find that pulse, then everything else can happen. And you let it happen. You let the music move through you. Listening.

You can always see the real musicians tapping their feet inadvertently and constantly. A form of deep listening. It's the thread, or backbone, of the music. When playing music, you are following that thread. Same when you are dancing.

Or writing. You get quiet, and it moves through you. A listening. Don't think too much about it. Listen and allow it to move through you. The sounds, the movements, the images, the writing. The moment you think too much about what you are doing, you become self conscious, and lose the connection. You lose the listening.

It is the same for love and lovers. Listen. Let it move through you, and move you.

As a writer, I follow the sounds of the book wherever it leads. Listening. As I finish up the first draft of book III of the Tantra Series, I find that once again in romance, love prevails. Hurray! No great shock there, only delight. Thank goodness for music, dance, love, and the threads they weave together.

Thank you for listening.