I have always been fascinated by art, in all its' forms, and enamored by those who can master any part of it. I have tried my hand at most artistic pursuits and find that I am best tailored for the art of admiring art. Most of my artistic endeavors ended badly. (My father might disagree. He has a gorgeous ashtray that is supposed to look like an elk on a mountain that I made him in 3rd grade.)
Recently I have learned a lot about the way I listen . . . or often, don't listen. I am practicing listening without jumping ahead in my mind to where I think they are going or what they might say. I am practicing really hearing the words and feeling the emotion behind them without thinking of my next question, comment or clever reply. It is sobering to realize how much conversation and connection I miss by I let my thoughts get in the way.
And so, I am in heavy pursuit of claiming and nurturing the talent of listening. Please be patient with me if we are engaged in conversation. And, please give me an elbow to the ribcage if I start thinking my one-liners are more important than what you are saying. I may not be a sculptor, (though my ashtray kept dad from smoking all these years,) but I have hopes that I will become a fabulous listener.
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