Trampolines

Bill Fox’s insight on listening:

“The art isn’t in absorbing everything someone says. It’s in reflecting back the truth of their message with such clarity that they discover something they didn’t even know was there.”

James Cook’s respons on this message:

“What happens to listening when there is no listener or listened to?
What becomes possible when listening isn’t done by anyone, and listening listens?
What if it were to be experienced as a relational field that’s already there—the space between?”

My response to this is:

When there’s no one doing the listening and no object being listened to, listening becomes something else entirely. It’s no longer an act or a task, it becomes a field. A space. It’s presence without effort.

If listening listens, it stops being personal. It stops being about understanding, agreeing, responding. It’s just awareness: wide, open, and unowned. In that space, things can emerge without being pushed or judged. Silence isn’t empty. Words don’t have to explain.

As a relational field, listening is what holds the space between us. Not a bridge from me to you, but the space in which both of us arise. When I stop trying to listen, I start noticing more. Not just what’s said, but what’s felt. What’s underneath. The unspoken.

It’s a shift, from doing to being. From grasping to allowing. That’s where real connection lives. Not in the words, but in the space that lets them land.

James responded to me:

The kind of space that you describe sounds so full of ease, clarity and belonging ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

I’m drawn to this place, and can’t help wondering if it’s where felt connection happens (sometimes without even the need for words).

If presence is the ocean, then this would be the current – a movement within the wholeness that can be felt, as a kind of meeting.

Listence 😃