The Lost Art of Listening

It’s everywhere, in the car, the grocery store, the drug store, the airport restroom, the dental office, the coffee shop, the bar, the CD collection, on satellite radio, on the plethora of Internet radio stations, behind the scenes in film and television, in the hundreds or thousands of earbuds walking or jogging by. It seems you can have music with you just about anywhere you go. It accompanies you during many of your daily tasks. But does it ever get your undivided attention for more than just a couple of minutes? Hopefully, it’s not while you’re driving.

It seems there is no time in our busy lives to just sit and listen. We have become a society of multi-taskers, combining or cramming as many tasks into our free time as possible. Perhaps that is because there are more choices than ever, or maybe we simply give ourselves too many things to do.

So how can we just sit and listen to music when there is so much to take care of? To take the time can invoke a feeling of wasting or stealing time. We start to feel the pressure of not taking care of business, or think that we are missing out on something more interesting or more important. The multi-tasking mind listens to that new CD while cooking, or exercising, or balancing the checkbook, or surfing the ‘net, and away we go, or away our attention goes. But at least we feel better about getting things done. Perhaps it works because music doesn’t get in the way. It’s not like trying to read your Kindle while flying down the freeway at high speed, or trying to read the paper while working on the bank statement.

Back when albums were 40 minutes long, my cousin and I would sit and listen to record after record and discuss the music, and musicians, and share what we knew about the artists. We chose to do that instead of sitting lump-like in front of the television. Then we got older, made families, got busy and found “more important” things to do. I wonder if he still listens.

It’s really not about not having the time, it’s about not taking the time. We take the time to watch television, or check that empty email inbox several times a day, or meditate, or practice yoga, or wonder aimlessly around the Internet. I don’t listen as much as I used to, and creating takes precedence over listening. But I still buy new music, and I still take the time to listen. When I do, I let go of everything else. I just enjoy, or dance, or sing along, or contemplate, or come up with new ideas. It replenishes the well, or as my friend Carl says, “It’s like hitting the reset button,” and I feel more like taking care of those things that are waiting for me, or I delete them entirely.