The mutuality of deep listening

Most mornings, I spend about 15 minutes on the phone with my Seattle friend Erin. This rhythm of mutual listening gives us compassionate accountability for setting intentions each day – and keeping them. Over the past few months, Erin has been intentional about swimming in the lake near her home, often bringing along a floaty that she blew up at the beginning of the summer. Accepting that it is finally too cold for such adventures, last week she chose to release the air from her floaty as part of her equinox rituals. She reached out to a mutual acquaintance to ask: Could you share a poem or some words to help me symbolically and intentionally let the air out? She got a thorough reply, and gave me permission to share it here:

That sounds like a beautiful way to mark the change of seasons. Here’s a little something I put together to help symbolize this transition:

            “As the air flows out and the summer days fade,

             I release what was, and welcome what’s made. 

             With each breath that leaves, I let go of what’s done

             And turn to the balance of moonlight and sun. 

             May this act of release clear space for what’s new, 

             Inviting the calm and cool autumn hue.” 

As you let the air out, think of it as releasing not just the floaty but also any lingering energy or emotions from this past season. You’re making space for the new cycle, whatever it may bring.

I wonder if, by reading this, you can think of anything in your life that it’s time to release. 

You might be surprised to find out who wrote the poem… chatGPT! Maybe you’re not particularly friendly with chatGPT, but it’s hard to deny the growing presence of AI in all areas of our lives. I was shocked at how well chatGPT had “listened” to Erin’s needs. It’s easy to compare my listening skill to chatGPT’s, and to worry about whether I’m a good enough friend. Gosh, you know, chatGPT doesn’t even need Erin to do any listening in return! Will chatGPT take over writing all our new prayers in the next few years?

I take a breath and reflect. (Not something chatGPT can do, incidentally.) 

Yes, chatGPT can listen and write a beautiful poem-prayer. But doing so, chatGPT hasn’t distanced Erin and me – in fact, it’s actually given us more to talk about! And it hasn’t replaced what is sacred; just directed our attention to it. Hearing what chatGPT “heard” helped me appreciate Erin even more deeply. And knowing that she’d be able to tell me about it, Erin felt accompanied in her equinox rituals even though I wasn’t there in time and space.

I think the only reason chatGPT’s poem “worked” for Erin is that she asked for it in the spirit of deep listening to herself. She had already told it what she needed to hear. As we reconstitute our Chalice Circles at UUFM and continue to look for other ways to listen deeply to each other, let us remember that our value has nothing to do with our response. We may or may not be able to compete with chatGPTs eloquence. But with our beating hearts and perfectly imperfect human ears, we are able to reflect back our friends’, neighbors’, and loved ones’ own inner truths. Whether or not they take a turn listening to us, we can be assured that the experience has grown their own capacity to listen. This organic mutuality, impossible to boil down into an algorithm, builds a kind of resilience that artificial intelligence can only dream about. With all our troubles in the world, I know that every time I slow down and practice presence with another human being, I am making a difference.

 

Pastor Isabel will be away through October 2 for a meeting of the Prairie Star Chapter of the Unitarian Universalist Ministers Association.