I remember as a youngster being admonished by my parents to listen to what they were saying. Often the reproach for not listening was something like, “You’re not listening to me” or “When are you going to start listening to what I tell you.” Parents for the most part were concerned for our welfare and truthfully I was not listening or more often disregarded what they were saying.
I have many memories of not obeying or listening to my parents efforts to keep me safe. I lived in Arcadia, California. We were only a few miles from the San Gabriel Mountain foothills. My friend Bob and I often packed a lunch and rode our bikes up Santa Anita Avenue to the base of the foothills, a very long and steep climb on a bicycle. We would eat our lunches on a knoll overlooking the valley below. The for the fun part! We coasted down Santa Anita Avenue on our bikes. Bob’s speedometer on his bike would peg out at 50 miles an hour. We did not stop for stop signs, we simply free wheeled down the road until we reached the bottom over a mile from the top.
When my parents overheard Bob and I talking about our adventures, you can imagine their reaction. “Listen to me carefully, don’t you ever do that again!”
Of course we made the trip several times again. Back in those early days of my life, our parents often did not know what or where we were. The wide open spaces that no longer exist called us to many adventures.
On one of these excursions to the foothills, the brakes on my bike went out. I knew this before we began our descent. That did not stop me. I had not used brakes on prior occasions so there was no need to worry.
We began our thrill ride down the hill and as usual were going very fast. As we neared the bottom of the hill I saw a car pulling out from a stop sign and there was no way I was going to avoid it. My heart was pounding and my brain was trying to think of what to do in those split seconds. At the last moment I dove off of my bike into a bank of Ivy. My bicycle continued unmanned down the street. How it avoided the car I do not know, but it did and eventually overturned at the bottom of the hill about a quarter mile away. The Ivy had cushioned my fall and other than a few cuts and bruises, I was okay. It was in that moment that I realized maybe my parents were not as dumb as I thought.
But this is not a good example of listening. Listening was so much more as I learned later in life. It wasn’t about keeping me safe, it was about listening to other people who needed to be heard. I believe some of my past relationships with wives and friends failed because of my inability to listen so that they felt they were heard. I know I didn’t always listen to my children and to acquaintances like I should have. I even attended “active listening” classes and was involved in establishing a peer support program within the Sheriff’s Department I worked for. Active listening was a key part of that curriculum.
I was able to turn my listening skill off and on. If I was in a situation at work where I was working in my peer support capacity, I turned it on and when it was over I pretty much turned it off. As a result I was so into myself that I didn’t pay much attention to those important moments in my relationships.
When I met Diann, we often talked on the phone several times a day. That was in the beginning of our relationship after we first met. We were both hurting. Diann from a lifetime of emotional abuse and me from the loss of my wife Danielle. Maybe for the first time in my life I found out how much I needed to be heard and as a result I really started to listen to Diann. It wasn’t hard, I just applied my active listening skills to my current situation and soon it became second nature.
As our relationship progressed we began a tradition. Each morning, we would sit together and either discuss an issue of interest or more often we read together. Some of the books we read were by some of our favorite authors: Florence Shinn, Dr.Wayne Dyer, Eric Butterworth, Neale Donald Walsh and many more. We usually had two books so that we could read along and highlight or make notes as we read. We would read a chapter or a few pages and then discuss what we had just read. Often our conversations would wander from what we just read but the miracle for me was that I was able to truly listen to what Diann was saying. I often could not believe how wise she was and we learned from each other. Some days the discussion might last only a few minutes but often we talked for more than an hour. As we digested the material we might talk again during the day.
So what does all of this listening have to do with love? As Diann and I sat together and listened to each other, I saw an aura that seemed to surround her. She was exhibiting a glow and she became more beautiful to me. Not only in her face but I was able to see the love coming from her heart. I fell more and more in love with my partner, now my wife.
As time has progressed over these last few years this tradition continues. We meet together each morning, not out of a sense of duty, but because we truly enjoy our times together. In my lifetime I had never felt one with another human being. With Diann the love that exists between us has allowed us to be as one. Finishing each others sentences or knowing what a decision was before it was made has become fun.
I had known in my head what unconditional love was but I had never felt it before. Today and for whatever time I have left on this earth I have found my Heaven, my Nirvana by listening to the love that comes from my partner and soul-mate.
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