Listening but not hearing a thing

Life is full of paradoxes. Imagine finding yourself doing something that you’re not in fact doing. Imagine having the quality of life that you in fact are not even close to. Imagine being delusional and thinking you’re absolutely logical. I was forced to admit that I have a habitual paradox that revisits me even if I kick it out and many that I’ve come across fall in that trap, especially people of this fast fast instant world.

I found that I sometimes listen in conversation but I don’t hear what is said. Not that I fall short of understanding what the other is saying but the words simply escape the net. I’m sure you may relate in one way or the other. Not a habit to boast about. However, I found, also, that this happens most of the time when the conversation is deemed as not so worthy. The danger here being that this would be my subjective opinion whilst the other person believes their words to be most precious and worthy of my hearing more than just listening.

In this ‘I’m busy, I’m exhausted’ world of today, most people operate with this kind of habit. A habit which makes us bad listeners. Nothing wrong with selective listening, but everything wrong with ignoramus behaviour. I pity myself for falling in this league sometimes, but I’m working, with the harsh help of my wife, daily on it. And soon I bid this ignoramus group farewell.

If you fall in the Hearing Ignoramus League, I suggest you also device your way out by adopting a no fee practice of active listening, which, by requiring you to engage in the talk, you’re forced to listen and hear at the same time. Don’t be fooled that listening and hearing are the same thing. They are far far much difference and distinctive, but they’re inter-dependent. If you can't hear and in fact don't want to hear, safe the other person their breath and 'precious' words by excusing yourself from the small talk. The both of you can make better use of your times.

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Be honest with your heart

'Be honest with your heart.' These words rang in my head for the past two weeks as I journeyed through a tasteless cocktail of emotions of joy, doubt, adrenalin, disappointment, affirmation, self distrust, ability, incapacity, excitement, carbon-copying and finally originality. These emotions made up the introductory journey to writing my book. I had it all right, still have, but to get it right I went from corner to pillar then back to corner, and eventually found the centre of my heart. At which point writing became like second nature as has always been with me.

I'm blissful in mood now because amidst that rollercoastering cocktail, which was just foul and nearly made me throw up, I became honest with my heart. I made peace that I can't write like somebody else. That I mustn't even attempt to write like anyone else. Not a carbon copy Izz, my heart would say to my pop encultured mind. Better be the best first version of yourself than a second version of somebody else, it reminded me. And with that, I made a pact between my heart (the inspiration) and head (the writer) that you shall write as you feel and think. Not as you read and copied.

The morale: well, be honest with your heart. Find your true passion, listen to what your heart says is the big picture, then let the mind, albeit guided by the heart, plot the way through the maze that is life or that project you started. It is much easier that way unlike doing what everyone else around you is doing. Novetly is the way the heart always feels. Carbon copy is always the way of the mind, which is other peoples heart's DNA - so rather let the mind hear out the heart for once, ok, may be twice, even thrice won't hurt.

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