Thanksgiving, a Day to Listen

Thanksgiving, a Day to Listen

“To listen is very hard because it asks of us so much interior stability that we no longer need to prove ourselves by speeches, arguments, statements, or declarations. True listeners no longer have an inner need to make their presence known. They are free to receive, to welcome, to accept. Listening is a form of spiritual hospitality by which you invite strangers to become friends, to get to know their inner selves more fully, and even to dare to be silent with you.”—Henri Nouwen in Bread for the Journey (HarperSanFrancisco, 1997).

As we gather today, sometimes with fewer family members than usual, this is the perfect time to sit back and listen. Having smaller groups to listen to will make this easier. Listening is at the heart of being a spiritual friend. Thanksgiving is a day to pay closer attention to the person or persons with whom we have the privilege to celebrate the day. Even if we are alone, we can call someone and listen.

Nouwen reminds us that listening does not mean waiting for our turn to talk. Instead, it is letting someone else know you are offering the gift of your energy and time to be present and attentive.

Some think it may be easier for introverts, but in reality, introverts may still be processing what they want to say while others are talking, and therefore they are only pseudo-listening. On the other hand, extroverts may have difficulty responding directly to what they hear, as they better process what they hear on the outside.  

The answer is simply to practice listening, even for a few hours daily. It is an art form that must be repeated consciously every day until it becomes as unconscious as brushing our teeth. Thanksgiving is a good day to start.

We have grown up in a multitasking world where we learn to do many things simultaneously: eating while we work or watching television, working on several projects, attempting to solve multiple problems simultaneously, glancing at emails, texting, or searching on our phones while we are sitting down to meet with others. While someone is talking to us, we may think about how we will solve another problem as soon as we move on to the next person or meeting.

Living in the present and active listening are becoming lost arts. We must practice them intentionally. My experience is making eye contact helps keep us focused on the person or people we listen to. We are actively “seeking” Christ visibly and invisibly within others—who can be revealed only as we begin to realize Christ within ourselves.

The art of listening is a gift to ourselves and all we know and meet. Margaret Guenther calls it Holy Listening. St. Benedict calls it “listening with the ear of our heart.”

This is my Thanksgiving Prayer: that each of us can begin “holy listening with each other with the ear of our heart.”

Living in the Precious Present

Living in the Precious Present

“God speaks to every individual through what happens to them moment by moment. The events of each moment are stamped with the will of God...we find all that is necessary in the present moment.”—Jean Pierre de Caussade in Abandonment to Divine Providence (1921).

We will write about Spencer Johnson’s famous book about living in the present, The Precious Present (in A Daily Spiritual Rx for Advent, Christmas, and Epiphany). C. S. Lewis also writes that God speaks to us in the present, not the past or future. Many mindfulness exercises are about getting into and living in the present moment. Other spiritual practices, such as walking the labyrinth, using the rosary, waiting in silence, and walking meditations, also lead us to the present moment by quieting the committee in our heads.

In his book Sadhana, Anthony de Mello teaches us that living in our body and not living out of our head keeps us grounded. Our bodies keep us in the present moment by grounding us to the earth. Our mind is always in the future or the past. Spending time in nature connects us to the present. The trees photosynthesize and transform the energy within us to perceive beauty. Beauty grounds us in the present.

Watching and participating in sports events helps us live in the present moment. Playing with and watching children keeps us in the present, for that is where children live. We may soon have more opportunities to play with children tomorrow this Thanksgiving. Take advantage of that.

gray kicking

The child within us also lives and connects us to the precious present moment. Connect to that place of delight.

Joanna. https://www.joannaseibert.com/   

 

More about Chiasmus, a feature of Hebrew poetry

Chiasmus = ‘X’

Guest Writer: Ken Fellows

     At a retirement dinner in Philadelphia honoring a friend …an intense but respected hospital president …my toast to him included this bit of borrowed wisdom:

                                             “People don’t care how much you know

                                                  Until they know how much you care.” (anon)

 

     This language form …a syntactic ‘switcheroo’… is called a chiasmus. Even though its usage can be traced to ancient Sanskrit and Egyptian texts, Chinese writing, Hebrew poetry, and the Old and New Testaments, the term remains obscure.   A number of wits and writers—Churchill, Shaw, Ben Franklin, Shakespeare, Mark Twain, Will Rogers, and George Carlin, among others –have used the chiasmus as an effective language tool in recent times.

     The dictionary definition of chiasmus is: “a reversal in the order of words in two otherwise parallel phrases.” The letter ‘X’ in the Greek alphabet is “chi,” and the Greek word “kiasmos” means “crossing”—also “to mark with an X.” The term is well known to neuroanatomists:  behind the eyes, the optic nerves going to the brain cross (right eye to left brain, left eye to right brain) at a junction called the “optic chiasmus.”

     In literature, the clauses of a chiasmus are written parallel to each other, usually with two lines connecting the keywords:

 

                                               “Never let a fool kiss you

                                                          or a kiss fool you. (anon)

                                               

                                                 “One should eat to live,

                                                          not live to eat.”

 

     Chiastic phrases can also be constructed by reversing letters and sounds:

                                               “A magician pulls rabbits out of hats.

                                                   A research psychologist pulls habits out of rats.” (anon)

 

     The best wits would be less witty without an occasional chiasmus or one of its variations.

When a young member of Parliament finished giving an address, he later asked Churchill what he could have done to put more fire into the speech, to which Sir Winston replied: 

                                     “What you should have done is

                                         to have put the speech in the fire.”

 

     There is also the ‘implied chiasmus’ –a word reversal in a well-known saying that stands alone:

                                                 “A hangover is the wrath of grapes.” (anon.)

 

                                                  “Time’s fun when you’re having flies. “(Kermit the Frog)

 

                                                  “Time flies like an arrow: fruit flies like a banana.” (Groucho)

 

                                                  “The waist is a terrible thing to mind.” (anon.)

 

     These implied versions are double the fun –first recalling the original saying, then marveling at the creative transposition of words.

        I’m including a painting, Brave Boat Harbor Reflection, of a reflected sky* ... in my mind, a chiasmus is not only a ‘cross-over’ but a ‘reflection’.... ‘same thing seen from varying perspectives.

     Like a sumptuous dinner of rich food, listing chiastic examples becomes too much of a good thing. Since this blog tends to talk about our spiritual life, the conclusion of this exposition ends with a favorite chiasmus

                                                    “I find Peale appalling

                                                        and Paul appealing.” (Adlai Stevenson)

 

                                Addendum: “Chiasmus” has had other names over the years, such as inverted parallelism, syntactical inversion, reverse parallelism, crisscross quotes, and turnarounds. William Safire suggested ‘contrapuntal phrases,’ but it never caught on. Similarly, Hemingway invented “double dichos” (dicho, the Spanish word for ‘saying’). Chiasmus is the only enduring rubric.

Ken Fellows

Joanna joannaseibert.com