Whether to Listen or Answer

Sometimes I think that listening without attempting to speak is more difficult than answering a question.

There's also contemplative listening where what you hear spreads like the tide —filling all the spaces.

I sometimes listen to well-known personages with that type of listening, other times I am in a state of disagreement. I argue with pundits I hear speaking on the radio even though they are unaware of my silent rebuttals.

When a question is asked there's always someone ready to jump in with an answer or a response. Those are the void fillers. They fear that empty time —a noose hovering in the air, an intake of breath with no release, a place caught between words.

Those places between words contain multitudes, a swarm of sound combinations. Stories. The writer sneaks between the words and finds a narrative thread—unrolls the spool and finds the tale.

Along the way snarls appear confounding the writer who stops and listens to his characters. And then —listens to them or argues with how they want to proceed.

And that brings me around to how arduous it is to simply listen.