Listen

For listening is the act of entering the skin of the other and wearing it for a time as if it were our own. Listening is the gateway to understanding.

— David Spangler in Parent as Mystic, Mystic as Parent

The spiritual life," according to Joan Chittister, "is not achieved by denying one part of life for the sake of another. The spiritual life is achieved only by listening to all of life and learning to respond to each of its dimensions wholly and with integrity."

“to “listen” another's soul into life, into a condition of disclosure and discovery, may be almost the greatest service that any human being ever performs for another.” (Steere, 1955).

Seventeen years ago I sat at a kitchen table with the mother of one of my truest friends. She was about 70 years old at the time. She was sharing with me the aches and pains she had been having. She told me she could not get any of her kids to listen to her. They all believed she was just a complainer.

As she shared with me her various pains, including chest pains, that small, still voice inside me told me to listen. When she completed her list of ailments, I said to her, "When you feel any of these pains again, I want you to call me, day or night. I will come right over."

About six weeks later, late in the morning, I received a call from her. She told me she was hurting really bad. I told her I would be there in five minutes. She was laying on her side on her sofa, and I knew instantly she was in serious trouble. Her color was gray. She could barely move.

I called her doctor. He at first told me to give her some medication she had. My instinct told me she needed more than that. I asked him, "What should I do then?" He replied, "What do you mean?" I said, "If this gets worse, should I call you back, or take her to the emergency room?" He hesitated for a moment and then asked me if I could get her to the emergency room. "Yes," I replied. I hung up and asked her if she wanted an ambulance. She shook her head no. I called her daughter, my friend, at work. "You need to come home now," I told her, "we need to get your Mom to the emergency room." Her daughter arrived shortly thereafter. We assisted her Mom as she made her way into my friend's car.

We drove straight-away to the Emergency Room. She was immediately admitted. Her symptoms suggested a heart attack. A cardiologist was called in, and he ordered an immediate angiogram. Her heart stopped during the procedure. The cardiologist was able to shock her heart into beating again. He found that she had three severely blocked arteries.

She was air-lifted from the emergency room from our local hospital to the University Medical Center. I had a moment to speak to her. I reminded her we had a lot of fishing to do during the spring, summer and fall.

She had emergency triple by-pass surgery. As her other four kids gathered in the waiting room, each one thanked me for listening to their mother.

Later that summer, I was sitting next to her when she caught the biggest fish of the whole fishing trip.

I was away for 15 years. Upon my return, I contacted my friend. The first thing she said to me was, "I've still got my Mom!"

My friend's mother passed away this last Friday, 17 years and one month since we sat together at that kitchen table where I learned to listen.

.