A customer walked into McDonald’s and said, “One large fries to go, please!”
“Would you like fries with that?” “I just asked for fries only.”
“Oh, sorry about that. Would you like to upgrade?”
“But, I already ordered large fries!” the customer said frustrated. “Of course! Dine in or take-away…”
In our highly distracted world, most of us are hearing alright but very few are listening. Listening is an art and there’s a yogic practice to perfect this art. At its root, even being alert in meditation is nothing but carefully listening to your mind.
The Sanskrit term is śrāva
The one who practices the art of listening undergoes a rapid transformation in their ability to remain concentrated.
Listening requires that you be alert and attentive in the present moment. Let us say you are attending a lecture in some class on Marketing. If you are not paying attention, in other words not listening, to what the lecturer is saying, sitting in the class is anything but useful. To know what the teacher is saying, you have to listen, and in order to listen, you have to pay attention. That is concentration.
A man approached Buddha once and said, “I want to become wise. Please tell me how do I operate better in the world? What do I do to not mess my relationships?”
Buddha spoke, “It is very simple. You only have to be mindful of two things – listen attentively to others when they are talking and even more attentively to yourself when you are talking.”
The practice of listening does not require that you sit in a meditative posture. You can do it multiple times in a day. You could even do it while driving or commuting.
How to Do It Right
Put on your favorite song, at home, while driving, jogging, anywhere.
Promise yourself that you’ll pay full attention to the song.
Listen to the song with complete mindfulness and alertness.
This is the art of active listening. This is the practice in anutshell. Put on your favorite song and make it a point to listen to every word in that song. It is not as easy it sounds though. How many times have you found yourself playing your favorite song with the intention to listen to it fully only to find a few minutes later that the song has already finished? You probably replay the song to hear it again.
Even with the most melodious song, it takes certain training for the mind to stay at it. You may listen to the whole of the first stanza, parts of the second stanza but somewhere in between the first and the last, your mind wanders off. You stand unaware. In the practice of listening, bring the act of listening to the forefront of your mind. You do that by listening attentively. When practicing listening, avoid leaving it playing in the background; doing that will actually weaken and dilute your concentration. Just putting on music and not listening to it makes your mind used to living with noise.
Many put their headphones on and start reading a book. If you ask them five hours later, chances are they are unable to recall the reading in detail or the songs they played. If you train your mind to live with diluted concentration, meditation, and subsequently tranquility, becomes increasingly harder.
In the older days, when there were no headphones or portable music systems, people would put on music and the only act they would do was to listen to that music. While reading, they would only read. Multitasking, the mantra of today’s world, plays havoc on your concentration. Once you learn to do a single task properly, doing many things at once will become easier and effective. And, if you think you can multitask, try juggling with three oranges.
Concentration without meditation is pointless and meditation without concentration is useless. Both are not possible without mastering the art of listening. Whether that’s listening to external sound or inner noise, outer world or inner thoughts, it’s all the same.
Sankalpa – Resolve
I once heard this story about a man who brought the same sandwich for lunch to work, every day. In the staff cafeteria, he would open his lunch box, unwrap the two sandwiches of cheese and tomato. He would heat them up in the microwave and eat them with a cup of coffee. Day in day out, for more than four years, his colleagues observed that he brought the same lunch every day. Some even offered him theirs but he would always politely decline.
Four years later, a note was sent to the entire staff that this man had resigned and that in the evening there would be a farewell party for him. That day, he didn’t bring his usual tiffin but a full meal with two