How do our Great Great Grands want us to Listen?
Hello!
How is this day treating you? And/or how are you intra-acting with it...
ah our intra-connectivity!
And
It almost always feels a little vulnerable to send anything out to you. Honestly.
And---Poetry more so.
And here is what came.
What I am leaning into with my listening---
How do our great greats want us to listen?
Not with your ears.
Silly you.
With the teeny dark hairs that rise as the svelte breeze caresses your arm.
With the sweep of the tips of your fingers across the tendrils of teeming
water, stirring the surface to sounding.
With the tiny talus bones of your feet pressing into sun spotted greening grass.
With-in the sounding pulse of the beating blushing ardent tissue tucked inside the rib like basket that protects it.
With the drawing in whiff of the blooming lavender-y lilac buds murmurations.
Feeling your way
as if texture and taste and scent
Were the listening body
that becomes you.
The weevils.
The anvils.
The gavels erupting.
The villains in plain site.
Plug up the podiums, the front and center
The cerebral story of which you were not born to, but born into.
You know---
Because
the wind.
Says it’s so.
That's it!
If you want to lean into your listening with a little support check out ---
The Unheard of Importance of Listening!
Much love and loads of freshly moving sounds,
Carol