“The intimacy of being listened to and understood is top tier.” – The Sarcastic Girl
Lately I’ve been noticing how listening and paying attention are the most exquisite gifts we can offer each other. When I was a counselor, one of my patients would rail on about some family dynamic for several minutes, and then suddenly learn forward, stare into my eyes, and ask, “Do you Understand?”
One session unfolded differently. One Friday afternoon after a lengthy tirade, the patient again leaned forward and exclaimed, “Do you Understand?” Now, despite the fact that us counselors are supposedly trained to pay attention to our patents, I was attending to streaming thoughts about something else. I know as a patient, when paying attention, I can tell when the therapist is is present. It’s in the eyes. When people are actually paying attention, the visual focus in tuned to the spot you exist, if not the focus is soft and inward or simply on something else. They could be thinking about anything, but not you. (True of everyone, not just therapists.)
Interesting. And watch the breath, if the body is not oxygenated, the person is not entirely present. If your therapist is looking inward and breathing in a shallow manner during your sessions, it’s time for a fresh start with a new therapist. You would get more out of talking with yourself, a pet, rock or houseplant.
Where ever my focus of attention was, it suddenly ripped back into the room, and there was a knowing of how far away attention had wandered. All while sitting there pretending to listen. It was late in the afternoon, and I was tired, but that’s just an excuse. I just wasn’t giving my patient the attention they were paying me to give them. In that particular session I was on Mars. Long distance therapy.
By Monday things had changed. I started taking more breaks during the day. I started noticing when attention was actually on my patients, and when it drifted. I stopped letting my lack of paying attention fall to excuses. And when I was tired and struggling to attend I would tell the patient, enlisting their aid. They became an active part of the process of attention. I started to pay attention to blood sugar levels.
It’s an amazing experience, being listened to and understood. It’s an act of LOVE and a receipt of love, Isn’t it? The idea we prove we exist by acting as mirror’s for each other. Yes, we are here. At least for now.
It’s back to that thing I talk about occasionally. Being seen. Acknowledged. And it means everything. Because from in here, from the center of me, I have no proof that I am, it seems pretty vague. After all, I keep changing and am never the same. But when I’m unsure and nervous about my standings, and in conversation with you, and you’re paying attention, I find me.
In you. In you’re attention and caring and focus, I exist. (Funny how we keep saying we are not separate or continuous, yet so much of our lives are spent exactly from that perspective. And sometimes we desperately need to know that we are here, and OK.)
Today I will help someone know they are. I can do this by paying attention to them, seeing them, hearing them, actually consciously breathing the same air. Precious moments that will fade and never return. Humans reaching out to each other in the Bittersweet.
A Dharma sister and I greet each other with the phrase, “Well, were still here, aren’t we?” And laugh. Because we pay attention, and we know we are, we see us in each other.
A day of unfolding events in the cauldron of Bittersweet.
Bryan Wagner
Visions of a People's Dharma 