Questions for Listening Vol. III
Questions for Listening offered as voice-mails to our Listening Hotline during 2024.
Transcription:
How can I listen to my own exhaustion without dismissing it?
When I listen to news of injustice, am I truly hearing the weight of the words?
How do I listen to my child’s fears when I don’t have the answers?
Can I listen to my community without filtering it through my privilege?
When my friend tells me their struggles, am I listening for them or for myself?
Can I listen to the silence in my home and not feel lonely?
How do I listen to those I love when their pain confronts my own guilt?
Is my listening affected by the anger I hold?
Can I listen to someone whose reality is so different from mine?
Do I really hear the stories of my ancestors in everyday life, or only in ceremonies?
How do I listen to the voices that history has erased?
When I listen to someone describe their oppression, am I hearing it, or am I comparing it to my own?
Do I listen differently to those who are vulnerable than to those who are powerful?
How do I listen to my elders without dismissing their truths as old-fashioned?
Can I listen to the pain in my body without blaming it?
Am I really listening to the immigrants in my neighborhood, or am I projecting my own ideas onto their lives?
When I say I’m listening to someone, am I actually waiting for my turn to speak?
Can I listen to the silence between the loud demands of daily survival?
How do I listen to my own needs when the world keeps telling me to give more?
Is it possible to listen to the land as it remembers the stories of displacement and resilience?
Do you listen more carefully when the stakes are higher?
Can listening become a form of resistance?
How does my mind wander when I listen to someone else’s truth?
Who isn’t being listened to in this room, and why?
Is listening a choice or a demand?
How do we listen when words become weapons?
Is there a place within you where listening hurts?
How does listening change when the words are written down?
How can I hear what’s hidden beneath silence?
Is there a difference between hearing and understanding?
How do I listen to my fears?
Is there a cost to truly listening?
Can I listen to your memories?
What does it mean to be seen while being heard?
How do we listen without expecting answers?
Is listening a form of faith?
What are our different ways of listening to grief?
Do we owe someone our silence when they speak?
Is listening an act of trust or vulnerability?
Can you listen without absorbing someone else’s pain?
What happens to the sounds I no longer remember?
What’s the connection between listening and forgetting?
Can listening to the past help me live in the present?
Are we always performing while listening?
How can I listen to my anger without fearing it?
Can you listen to history without bias?
What does it mean to listen and be transformed?
How do we listen to our bodies when words aren’t enough?
Can you listen to someone without your mind translating?
How do we listen to those who cannot speak?
Is there a limit to what we can listen to?
How do you listen to your dreams?
Is listening ever selfless?
What happens when listening becomes a burden?
Are you listening to what’s beneath the noise?
Can you listen to your past self?
Do you ever stop listening to someone in your life?
How can I practice listening to what I don’t want to hear?
When does listening become a demand?
Are there echoes of listening in the pauses we take?
Can you listen to someone else’s silence?
Do you listen differently to someone who is suffering?
When you listen, what are you letting go of?
Do you need permission to listen?
Can you listen to someone and not respond?
Are there truths you’re afraid to hear?
Can you listen beyond what’s being said?
Do you listen to yourself with the same compassion you offer others?
What does the world ask of us when we listen?
Can we listen to joy in the same way we listen to pain?
When does listening become an act of care?
Can you listen to a place, to its history and its secrets?
Do you listen more intently when you know it might be the last time?
How does listening change when we are alone?
Is there a way to listen without judgment?
Can you listen to the rhythm of someone else’s thoughts?
What am I avoiding when I’m not listening?
Do you hear the differences in what isn’t being said?
In what ways is listening a way of bearing witness?
How do you listen to what remains unspoken?
Do you listen with your past experiences or with an open mind?
How do you listen to something you fear might break you?
Can listening be an invitation to unlearn?
How can I listen more deeply to the stories that go unheard?
When you listen, do you surrender or resist?
Is listening an act of power or humility?
Can you listen to the unsaid questions beneath my words?
When you listen, are you holding space for silence?
What do you hear when you stop trying to interpret?
Does listening create an opening or a boundary? Is the opening a form of boundary in itself for those who don’t listen?
How can listening build bridges between the worlds we inhabit?
Is listening an offering of love?
How does listening shape our understanding of justice?
What does it mean to listen with your full presence?
Are you listening to your own inner dialogue?
Is listening an ongoing practice, or is it momentary?