“Thus have I heard …..”
- Preface to all Buddhist teachings attributed to Buddha
“Ninety-nine percent of singing is listening and hearing. One percent of it is singing.”
- Linda Ronstadt
“When you talk, you are only repeating what you already know. But if you listen, you may learn something new.”
- The Dalai Lama
All our most powerful, truthful and beautiful expressions come from a quality of deep inner listening.
In this post I’ll share a few observations about my practice that lead me to that statement. I am hoping there may be some resonance for you and perhaps helpful pointers about how to be in relationship with the world, in your life and your work.
All the Buddhist teachings that are attributed directly to the historical Buddha are preceded by the phrase “thus have I heard.” I love this. It’s two steps away from more traditional spiritual “authorities,” like the Bible. The first step is that the words come from a human being, not a god. The second step is that the transmitter (whoever repeated the teachings, whether orally or in writing) is explicitly saying it is what they heard, not definitively what the Buddha said.
(A Zen teacher in my lineage, Bernie Glassman, even took this a step further and called the Buddha’s “Four Noble Truths” the “Four Noble Opinions!”)
One effect of this phrasing is to return a sense of ultimate authority to us. And this authority derives from our ability to listen deeply and respond authentically.
We can be sure that the people who passed on the Buddha’s words listened deeply. It took a lot of effort in those days to commit words to memory and write them down. They did so because the words were life-changing for them.
You have to listen deeply in order to really hear what a person (or the world) is saying. When you observe the world with the attitude of deep listening, not only do you hear the subtle dimensions of things, but your own response arises naturally. In deep listening, you are also listening to yourself, by which I mean you are listening with your whole body and registering the energetic flows within.
When you are tuned into world-and-self in this way, and you speak coherently from that frequency, there is an unimpeachable authority to your words.
I’ll unpack this a little more:
Zen practice is sometimes described as “turning the light around.” We focus our awareness on the internals of our mind instead of what is happening “out there.” This is surprisingly difficult (at the beginning.) All of our vigilant protection and control drives are directed “out there.” In this mode, we only hear surface phenomena.
At the beginning, “turning the light inward” can feel like staring into an open fire hydrant. The thinking mind is generating so much material, it feels overwhelming. The key is that in turning the light inward you have to subtly shift your relationship to those thoughts. To extend the metaphor, you have to step to the side and just watch the fire hydrant do its thing. And now that it is no longer blasting you in the face, you can look around and see what else is going on.
That’s when things get interesting. We’ve gone from a passive and even defensive posture of mind to a more relaxed, inquisitive and active posture. What happens next can be described as a shift from hearing to listening.
This morning I came across a beautiful description of this process by the rock critic Robert Christgau. In response to a question from a reader asking him how he works, he wrote:
“Playing [music] means I’m hearing it, not that I’m listening to it. In fact, for music I’m hearing to catch my ear so that I concentrate on it and listen carefully is fundamental … That music inspires attention is my first clue that it may be worth writing about, because usually that means I’m enjoying it. Then I try to concentrate and find out how that grabs me. Then I find out how it holds up to repetition. And somewhere in there I start to concentrate on and isolate … my degree of interest or pleasure, gradually getting a grip on its skill or substance or beauty or energy or lyrical acuity or any combination of the above.” (emphases mine)
Substitute “mind” or better yet “internal experience” for “music” and you’ve got a pretty great description of Zen meditation.
Here are the key points:
Something in your internal experience “inspires attention.” After you’ve been practicing for a while, this inspiration comes more naturally, but at the beginning you might need a guide to point out things that are likely to yield some interesting results for you. (Your own breath being a great one.)
Concentrate your attention on it. That means staying with it through the changes (“how it holds up to repetition.)
Appreciate the texture of the experience: its substance, beauty, energy, as well as your emotional responses to it, pleasure, displeasure, etc.
Notice what arises in you.
That’s it.
When you really listen, you begin to hear the deeper and truer qualities of the world, and you connect with your own authentic responses. Then your own words carry the authority of this authenticity.
Linda Ronstadt’s observation about singing being 99% listening feels really astute and profound on this matter. I would love to be able to express myself with the level of authenticity she brought to her songs!
And it strikes me that the singer is saying that her work is 99% listening, and the music critic is saying his work is mostly listening…. So the whole conversation of expression and appreciative response emerges when listening listens to listening!
The authenticity is most important. Feeling and speaking authentically makes you feel vibrant and alive. I have no doubt that a sensitive critic like Christgau feels more alive listening to music he dislikes than many people feel passively hearing music they love.
In the same way, when you show up authentically with your expression in work and relationships, your engagement with the “negatives” — people you don’t like, approaches you don’t agree with — feels better than a more passive engagement with people you like and approaches you agree with. It all starts with whole body listening, and allowing your authentic expression to emerge.
Does this resonate with you? I would love to hear your thoughts!
I go into a deeper (but not too deep!) discussion of the Four Noble Truths with Scott Berman in the second episode of our podcast Game of Zen, recorded a few days ago. We’re still in a trial period with the pod, but would love your subscription and comments on YouTube.
take care,
Paul
Photo by Karsten Winegeart on Unsplash