The Listening Tree

We have a listening tree on our monastery grounds. I discovered it in March when the spring leaves were returning and I've been holding regular visitations with it since then. If you look closely at the tree you will see an ear. This tree has an ear; actually it has a lot of ears. The ears of course are actually scars (places where it has been pruned to keep it alive) and that in itself has provided much reflection for me. Perhaps the same ordeal happens in our own lives and out of the places where we have been scarred we learn to listen. Maybe we are all Listening Trees. Rooted in the things that really matter! Maybe we need to learn to pay attention to our scars which may really be ears so that we can discover our deep listening qualities.

Recently I listened to someone read a poem by Rumi. Although I can't recall the exact words the poet was saying that he would like to sell his tongue and buy more ears. Me too!

I think I met a human Listening Tree the other day--well, not in person but I attended a panel discussion: The pathways to non-violence in Fayetteville AR. On the panel were the Dalai Lama, Sister Helen Prejean and Vincent Harding. The moderator asked how (after violent incidents such as when the children were killed by a bombing in Birmingham, AL in the 60's) one learns not to surrender to hate. Vincent answered with words I would like to tatoo on my arm (if I was into tatooing) He said something like this: You are so full of your dream there is no room for hate. You are full of 'the possibility of what could be.' That is what takes over your life.


When that happens to us we become LISTENING TREES. We even learn to listen to love in the people who hate....the love they can't see, perhaps because they haven't learned to listen to their scars.

Have a good day out there wherever you are! Become Listening Trees. Be so full of your dream of a non-violent world that there is no room for hate.

My Wild and Colorful Dream

I have been praying for a renewal
of my creativity.

Perhaps this dream is the beginning.

A group of us were going to Subiaco Abbey for the night. I was driving a huge truck which seemed more like a bus. A few passengers were with me. I cannot recall the exact nature or purpose of our visit to Subiaco but someone told me to be sure and look out the window very early in the morning because there would be some cute little monster-like creatures running around before dawn. It seems they were part animal and part human and they appeared just before sunrise while it was still dark. Early the next morning (in my dream) I was awakened suddenly and literally drawn, like a magnet, to the window. Sure enough—there they were. The yard was filled with pudgy little friendly creatures running here and yon—decorating the trees, the lamp poles. Some were even hanging bright colored paper circles in the air; they looked like little Ferris-wheels and moved in a circle yet hanging in mid-air like magic. Then I noticed that some of the group I had come with were outside walking around with these friendly little creatures. And I thought, “Oh my goodness, they are actually out there in that magical land experiencing all that creativity while I am only watching it from the window. With that thought I went racing down the hall with the intention of joining these unconventional visitors. I woke up just before arriving in that that magical, mystical wonderland.

Now what was that all about?
I sure hope the Subiaco monks
take time to look out their windows at dawn.)