Cycle 1, Week 1:
Listening
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1. Read and follow through with this contemplative and creative activity:
Ask yourself, quietly, in silent contemplation or in your notebook:
"What does listening mean to me?"
"Who is listening to me when no one is in the room?"
"How do I listen to the world, to others?"
Observe. Pay attention to how you are listening along with what and who you are listening to.
A Venn Diagram.
Three Interconnecting Circles.
A representation of the Three Muses.
Three petals to the Flower of Life.
Or ... a representation of sound?
Three Interconnecting Circles.
A representation of the Three Muses.
Three petals to the Flower of Life.
Or ... a representation of sound?
2. Consider these notes.
In an ideal world, every living thing is noticed, heard and valued.
But as adults, we might not always feel heard, noticed and valued from others.
Whenever I sense this in my own practice, a frustration over not being noticed or listened to, I begin to enter into a state of listening. Am I listening clearly to my own deepest desires?
Good question. It's not an easy task to perfectly listen to myself, let alone others. What is the perfection of listening? Does such as state exist? What is perfect listening to you? Can you model that?
Part of the video below focuses on creating a space for practice. It suggests choosing a particular space you come back to each day. Human beings are ritualistic creatures. You don't need to obsess over the space itself, but I have found even creating a corner of a room for practice and keeping it clean, attending to it with flowers and relics that support your practice can be very beneficial.
In the second cycle of Amuse we look more ritual. But for today, and throughout this course, ask yourself what the rituals are around your practices of listening, of attentive listening?
How do you clear the space in your body and mind and home for practice, both creative and contemplative?
You do not have to be a super star meditator. There are many forms of meditation - choose one that resonates with you.
Perhaps your meditation, or attention practice, involves drawing a mandala or paying close attention to the forms, shapes and patterns of a Yantra, such as the one you see in the Shri Yantra.
Tibetan and yogis consider drawing, starting at and remembering the shapes of Yantra a powerful form of practice. Doing involves all three muses: attention, memory and song (or expression of the human spirit unfolding within the universe).
You do not have to do hatha yoga or be a yogi to give attention to things of the universe. You do not have to be a Hindu or a Tibetan practitioner to look at a pattern on a page and see an unfolding universe.
What is yoga, "union" or "yolking to regular practice," mean to you?
Next week, you'll be introduced to one suggested practice. But you're not limited to any practice, nor do you need to do them all to follow this course. Use them as you feel comfortable. Maintain your own attention practice if you have one that works. Practice attention and listening daily.
Throughout time, I've found the many petals of the mandala, the many limbs of my own practice, (both creative and contemplative) unfold within (and without) me, like a lotus opening and listening to the world. At times the flower, at night, folds into itself and might gather energy for rest in darkness. Then it might open to the sunlight and receive what it needs through an act of reciprocal listening with light, air, land and water. Some yogis call this contraction and expansion.
Perhaps in the darkness, the lotus listens too; albeit, in dreams.
How do you listen?
My teacher used the image of the ears as two microphones receptive to the sounds of the world. He suggests listening to the world in a receptive way by allowing sounds to enter the ears in the way a microphone does.
If you like that image, use it. For me, I prefer the image of the flower.
For me, I find a microphone too mechanical because I often find I am not able to set them up properly, and I get confused with the wires. Besides, what if the battery dies?
Instead, I like to imagine my ears as a petals opening to the world. I like to imagine the lotus flower of my mind, one that includes my ears but is not limited to the ears receptive to the auditory world. The stem of the lotus flower roots down along my spine into the mud of the land, and that grounds me in my listening body.
When I listen, I find it helpful to connect my physical presence to the ground beneath me. I imagine my ears listening like petals and my hands listening like leaves, the entirety of my skin receptive to the sounds of water and air and all that is present in the environment.
How do you listen? Find your own way to listen. We are all different organisms even if we are the same in many ways.
Each practice in this course offers a possibility for refining your attention or exploring the world contemplatively and creatively.
But ask yourself:
"Which attention practices will I do daily, consistently?"
"Does my practice serve me? Am I using it to serve? How? Am I returning to it again and again?"
"Am I trying different practices when I've hit a block in one? Am I using practices in an interdisciplinary way? Or do I push through with the one practice and find that works for me?"
In this course, you might try different practices, or you might stick to one you already have. If you're having difficulty focussing on the image of water or the flow of the breath as suggested in the video below. why not listen to music attentively? Or pull a John Cage and listen closely and clearly to the traffic.
Perhaps just as importantly, let yourself rest in the interconnected landscape of self and world, world and self, soul and world, self and soul, listening and hearing.
However you wish to phrase it, let your whole body listen. But if you prefer, begin with the ears.
But as adults, we might not always feel heard, noticed and valued from others.
Whenever I sense this in my own practice, a frustration over not being noticed or listened to, I begin to enter into a state of listening. Am I listening clearly to my own deepest desires?
Good question. It's not an easy task to perfectly listen to myself, let alone others. What is the perfection of listening? Does such as state exist? What is perfect listening to you? Can you model that?
Part of the video below focuses on creating a space for practice. It suggests choosing a particular space you come back to each day. Human beings are ritualistic creatures. You don't need to obsess over the space itself, but I have found even creating a corner of a room for practice and keeping it clean, attending to it with flowers and relics that support your practice can be very beneficial.
In the second cycle of Amuse we look more ritual. But for today, and throughout this course, ask yourself what the rituals are around your practices of listening, of attentive listening?
How do you clear the space in your body and mind and home for practice, both creative and contemplative?
You do not have to be a super star meditator. There are many forms of meditation - choose one that resonates with you.
Perhaps your meditation, or attention practice, involves drawing a mandala or paying close attention to the forms, shapes and patterns of a Yantra, such as the one you see in the Shri Yantra.
Tibetan and yogis consider drawing, starting at and remembering the shapes of Yantra a powerful form of practice. Doing involves all three muses: attention, memory and song (or expression of the human spirit unfolding within the universe).
You do not have to do hatha yoga or be a yogi to give attention to things of the universe. You do not have to be a Hindu or a Tibetan practitioner to look at a pattern on a page and see an unfolding universe.
What is yoga, "union" or "yolking to regular practice," mean to you?
Next week, you'll be introduced to one suggested practice. But you're not limited to any practice, nor do you need to do them all to follow this course. Use them as you feel comfortable. Maintain your own attention practice if you have one that works. Practice attention and listening daily.
Throughout time, I've found the many petals of the mandala, the many limbs of my own practice, (both creative and contemplative) unfold within (and without) me, like a lotus opening and listening to the world. At times the flower, at night, folds into itself and might gather energy for rest in darkness. Then it might open to the sunlight and receive what it needs through an act of reciprocal listening with light, air, land and water. Some yogis call this contraction and expansion.
Perhaps in the darkness, the lotus listens too; albeit, in dreams.
How do you listen?
My teacher used the image of the ears as two microphones receptive to the sounds of the world. He suggests listening to the world in a receptive way by allowing sounds to enter the ears in the way a microphone does.
If you like that image, use it. For me, I prefer the image of the flower.
For me, I find a microphone too mechanical because I often find I am not able to set them up properly, and I get confused with the wires. Besides, what if the battery dies?
Instead, I like to imagine my ears as a petals opening to the world. I like to imagine the lotus flower of my mind, one that includes my ears but is not limited to the ears receptive to the auditory world. The stem of the lotus flower roots down along my spine into the mud of the land, and that grounds me in my listening body.
When I listen, I find it helpful to connect my physical presence to the ground beneath me. I imagine my ears listening like petals and my hands listening like leaves, the entirety of my skin receptive to the sounds of water and air and all that is present in the environment.
How do you listen? Find your own way to listen. We are all different organisms even if we are the same in many ways.
Each practice in this course offers a possibility for refining your attention or exploring the world contemplatively and creatively.
But ask yourself:
"Which attention practices will I do daily, consistently?"
"Does my practice serve me? Am I using it to serve? How? Am I returning to it again and again?"
"Am I trying different practices when I've hit a block in one? Am I using practices in an interdisciplinary way? Or do I push through with the one practice and find that works for me?"
In this course, you might try different practices, or you might stick to one you already have. If you're having difficulty focussing on the image of water or the flow of the breath as suggested in the video below. why not listen to music attentively? Or pull a John Cage and listen closely and clearly to the traffic.
Perhaps just as importantly, let yourself rest in the interconnected landscape of self and world, world and self, soul and world, self and soul, listening and hearing.
However you wish to phrase it, let your whole body listen. But if you prefer, begin with the ears.
3. Watch the introductory video to the first muse.
4. For an additional practice, read further on the practice of attention and listening.
the attention space:
|
“We have to try to cure our faults by attention and not by will…The will only controls a few movements of a few muscles, and these movements are associated with the idea of change of position of nearby objects. I can will to put my hand flat on the table. If inner purity, inspiration or turn of thought were necessarily associated with attitudes of this kind, they might be the object of the will. As this is not the case, we can only beg for them … Or should we cease to desire them? What could be worse? Inner supplication is the only reasonable way, for it avoids stiffening muscles which have nothing to do with the matter. What could be more stupid than to tighten up our muscles and set our jaws about virtue, or poetry, or the solution to the problem. Attention is something quite different.” |
Secondly, you need an “attention space.” What’s that? Well, you need somewhere to go to practice the art of attention.
First, let’s first focus on what attention is. Simone Weil in First and Last Notebook (1970), writes, “attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity.” In Gravity and Grace (1952), she adds to her contemplation on attention: “We have to try to cure our faults by attention and not by will. The will only controls a few movements of a few muscles, and these movements are associated with the idea of change of position of nearby objects. I can will to put my hand flat on the table. If inner purity, inspiration or turn of thought were necessarily associated with attitudes of this kind, they might be the object of the will. As this is not the case, we can only beg for them … Or should we cease to desire them? What could be worse? Inner supplication is the only reasonable way, for it avoids stiffening muscles which have nothing to do with the matter. What could be more stupid than to tighten up our muscles and set our jaws about virtue, or poetry, or the solution to the problem. Attention is something quite different.” For Weil, the states of mind that nourish the creative life – “inner purity, inspiration or turn of thought” – come not from dogged determination, restless drive or single-mindedness. Not that those are terrible qualities to have; we need the will sometimes. But in creative play, it’s not what we’re after. Weil is saying, let go of having to get somewhere. Desire. Supplicate. Pray humbly for assistance. Allow the muses to come to you. Inspiration and turn of thought needn’t come from you and you alone. After all, we live in an eco-system of energies, so where the energy of you end and the rest of the world begins has no definitive boundary. “Attention,” writes Weil, “taken to its highest degree, is the same thing as prayer. It presupposes faith and love.” So, take it from Weil and have faith and love in the world to provide you with the energy to create. Your attention to the world will be a form of giving, of reciprocity, of ecological symbiosis. Creativity is like sunlight; it’s one of those limitless sources of energy, maybe with even less limited than the sun. And creativity has a small carbon footprint. It grows the more you use it. So, where are you going to practice your attention, this “purest form of generosity”? You can do it anywhere. That’s what mindfulness is. Anywhere you go, and with anything you do, bring your attention to it. But it helps to have a formal, daily practice space for your cultivating your attention. That way, you create a ritual, something we’ll be exploring next week. I usually have a meditation cushion and a small altar with some sea shells, some stones and a photograph of my mother. I like to burn incense that smells like cedar or sandalwood. That’s my practice space. Since I am living in a temporary home right now in Amsterdam, and I didn’t have room for my special cushion in my suitcase, I’m using a regular old pillow. Sometimes when I am on the move, I fold up my travelling yoga mat to prop up my spine. Wherever you sit, make your attention space special. It might be in a chair. It may be on the floor. It might be the sofa. But try to sit up. The erect position of the spine helps to relax the muscles and keep you alert. If you have a lot of trouble sitting for some reason, try walking meditation. The trick is to do it every day. Over email I’ve provided links to meditation apps and guided sitting practices that may help you. I also mentioned a couple of contemplative practices in the online video. The first was the meditation I mentioned that involves feeling and observing the breath. It’s one of the simplest forms meditations, and you can do it anywhere. Some of you may already have a formal meditation practice. You may have a teacher you’re working with. Great! Keep going! Throughout this course, I simply ask that in addition to a minimum of 20 minutes of creative practice, you practice a minimum of 10 minutes of contemplation or meditation. If you’re just beginning, you might find that 10 minutes is enough. Or maybe you would like to try 30 minutes or more? It’s up to you. But do it every day. Happy Musing! |