Listening To Men

In a darkened room men sit in a circle. Candles are lit making a soothing flicker of little flames and light. Men are gathered together around the flames, still and quite, waiting. At first these men listen to the vital silence that surrounds them. And then one man speaks, his name first and then he tells his story. Because of the listening the circle exists, that the stories can be told and heard. Listening grounds the emergence of meaning and softens the stark reality of our sheer existence. It is our most powerful tool in changing the sometimes nightmare of out personal lives and social constructs. It heals. Naive activism- the will to forcibly change others or ourselves can too often create the alien "other", self-loathing and the despised adversary in a so-called moral battle we ought not try to win. Listening, on the other hand, opens the door to different and better possibilities.

One by one, each man in his turn, is given the space to speak. His words may be simple, a sharing of thoughts, a pleasant turn of events in life or a difficult one. As it happens all too often the sharing may frighten us. It may mean facing our own pain and fears. It opens us as well to the possibilities of transformation. Listening means things can be different, that the structure of our lives and society are never fixed. What really frightens, though, is listening to the genuine voice of another because his voice can move us too, can lead us to face the whole story of our own lives. But getting to new worlds is not an act of physical motion; rather the movement is started in the depths of our intentions and imagination. For this a ruthless honesty is needed tempered with a guileless faith. Only by the grace inherent in our listening( without judgment and with a openness to the other) will enable these men to come forth and reveal themselves.

When we dare to listen then, we face our inevitable need for that which is greater than our little isolated selves- our primal dependence- and this makes us vulnerable. Men in our culture in general are socialized to suppress this truth and to strive to be always in charge, protecting and armored. So we hide and build empires instead, monuments in time and space to power and fear. In the end, though, all empires dissolve to dust like bad dreams and once again we are left with reality and our shared humanity.

Finally, we always have the option of silencing that which frightens us. This does not, of course, rid us of our fears; it only buries them and reinforces their hold on us. We can and do marshall innumerable facts to justify our actions. But in the end it is only in learning to be still and quiet that we can begin to hear and see. Listening forges the circle, engendering trust, hope and life. Of course our frailties and needs do not disappear; rather we learn to grasp the truth of our existence. We learn to embrace ourselves truly in mutuality and love.

In a darkened room candles are lit, a circle of men sit gathered together still, quiet waiting. The circle and silence is a womb. A man speaks. It is only because of the listening that he can be heard and eventually seen. Where there is listening there is love.