I remember it as a reprimand in return for some outrageous thing that I had just uttered, but just like “Pull yourself together!”, it has a deeper meaning, which is now dawning on me.
The capacity to listen to yourself is a strong step towards a meditative state. Listen to yourself when you are sitting quietly on your own may not seem like the basis for a fun conversation, but the resounding messages your body sends are quite fascinating if you allow yourself to listen intently.
There is the breath, of course, the rumbling of the stomach, the pulse, and the slight movements of the eyelids. There are days or moments, when I feel exterior sounds piercing the skin and the senses, aggressively pounding or creating an irritating back buzz of constant audible like distant traffic from the motorway.
The loud shrieky voice on the phone in the metro, the muzak pouring into the ears like a drip-dropping venom of indifferent tones, all create a sonorous barrier between you and yourself.
If you can’t hear yourself, you are in trouble.
We do not have to isolate ourselves in a padded soundproof room to listen inwards to ourselves. There are days when exterior sounds can be integrated and absorbed as if they actually originate from yourself. It’s a mindset, and for some of us, it doesn’t come naturally but has to be taught.
I was recently guided in meditation by my teacher trainer, François Raoult. We were all comfortably seated in sukhasana or another cross-legged position on the floor. The exercise in Nada Yoga started as François asked us to recognise and register the first sound of the day.
I thought of the slight rattle when I pulled up the curtain in the bedroom. Then the soundscape intensified as he invited us further back in time. I was moved, emotionally and through memory, to the summer island of my childhood, hearing the fog horn, the local artist’s scratchy pen on the paper, and the lapping of the waves against the old wooden boat.
I think it’s possible to go there by yourself and spend half an hour listening to your inner music. It doesn’t matter if you have a perfect pitch or not; this music is quite free from false notes.
Warm regards,
Emily