A listening fox

Ruth's writing invitation

I am the kind of writer who believes that writing in a group nudges to grow because you hear all the different approaches people take to the same task and the different insights the same text brings about. I am the kind of writer who believes that through writing we create ourselves. I am the kind of writer who appreciates the trust in a small writing group to be who I am. 

Because of this, and because of managing my state of mind as I turn fifty, and because bold is my one little word for the year, I joined a writing course, the same one I have joined three times before. I don't mind that it looks as if I am repeating a course, that I have already read some of the texts, and that some of the exercises are the same. The teacher welcomed me back. 

Last week I couldn't go to the place where we gather and had to join through Zoom. When the teacher sent the Zoom link, she also attached a poem for reading in class. It came with a request not to peek before the lesson. I was tempted, and still closed the email quickly to resist the temptation to read. The only thing I saw was that the document was titled "fox.pdf". A poem about a fox? A fox in the poem? A fox as a metaphor? I sure was curious.

After some warm up writing and sharing, it was time to read the poem. There was no fox in the poem. John Fox was the author. The poem was "When Someone Deeply Listens to You". It's a beautiful poem and I found places to write notes about, and yet, somehow I couldn't get fully into it. I missed the fox. I didn't hesitate to share my distraction with the class. Spinning thoughts and words, the teacher concluded that if there are reading dogs, we might as well have a listening fox. 

Parking this ideas allowed me to continue listening to others and participate in the writing task. 

The task was to quick write our own version of the poem. 

I wrote in Estonian. Here's a rough translation, void of the phonetic wordplay. 

When somebody deeply listens to me,

        I am not categorised by age, gender, roles, 

                             hair color, car model, shoe size,

                                   expectations, goodness.

 

When somebody deeply listens to me

        I won’t get labelled with

                   price, fears, judgement,

                             desires, glory, madness. 

 

When somebody deeply listens to me

        Out of the shadows emerges 

                the real me, gentle and vulnerable, 

                         at the same time strong and mighty,

                                    funny and quirky in my own way.

 

I am Somebody.

I am somebody who deeply listens to me.                      

Looking back, the last line is the part where I am creating myself. Growing up with listening to all the outside expectations, and doing my best to meet those, I didn't learn to listen to the whispers within, and this is an area I am still working on. What am I feeling? What do I need? What do I want? So I practice how to deeply listen to myself.  I become a listening fox.

All posts #turning50

A photo by Birgit Varblane from a natural woman photo shoot