Hearing Dimly: Focusing Outwardly

Lay quietly... without moving... for 25 minutes... that's all I had to do.  Nothing more was asked of me.

I was in a sarcophagus-like tunnel of an MRI machine, the noisy whirring and clicking of the mechanism encircling my body.  Gradual loss of hearing in my left ear and tinnitus warranted this clinical imaging.  The doctors and specialists were searching for any detectable damage or explanation for not hearing clearly.

After just a few minutes of confinement, I wanted to wiggle my fingers and toes.  I needed to move!  It seemed so unnatural to lay quietly... not moving... for 25 minutes!  Then, I began worrying:  Would my nose begin to itch?  What would happen if I began coughing?  Did the nurse attach the contrast dye to the IV?  And I thought: I should have accepted the muscle relaxant!

Focus!  Breathe!   Lay quietly... without moving... for 25 minutes... that's all I had to do.

As the minutes ticked by, I marveled at the difficulty in focusing, even for such a brief time.  My body needed to move.   My mind wanted to give the okay: move; do something!  I worried about things that had not happened.  I wondered how much time was left.

MRI machine: imaging for better health

Lay quietly... without moving... that's all I had to do.

The platform began to move outward... the 25 minutes must be over!  Already?!  Nope... not yet.  The nurse attached the contrast dye to the IV... and I was soon returning to confinement... with a friendly reminder from the nurse:  lay quietly... without moving...

During this second half, I began to focus on the dialogue practice - how it can open us to similar experiences:

• We are invited to notice when we hear dimly, reserving compassion for those times when we realize we are not listening.
• We are invited to explore internal and external relationships - Self and Other, searching for ways to heal or improve.
• We are invited to slow down, seeking contrasts between what is thought, felt, said, and done.
• We are invited to examine what is binding us, moving outward from our inner confinements.

British Museum: inner wrappings, outer beauty

As I lay quietly, unmoving, a memory and an image came to mind.  The memory:  a friend and I had visited the Egyptian Gallery of the British Museum a few years ago.  The image: a mummy wrapped tightly, sitting next to its ornate burial sarcophagus.

How often do we lie wrapped up in our inner thoughts and worlds when outer expressions of beauty belie this confinement?  Maybe, if we open up to others by sharing our thoughts and feelings, explaining our thought processes -- followed by an invitation to sit silently and listen to a contrasting point of view, we could experience the  process of being released from confinement.

Outward Journey: from confinement and darkness
to expansiveness and light

I survived the 25 minutes of laying quietly and not moving, but my journey is not finished.  It is time to wait patiently for the results, and then move toward treatment or acceptance.  And, a much deeper lesson was learned:

Sit quietly... not moving... and listen... anticipating that the confinement may be temporary... if I but hear and focus outwardly.

Questions to consider this week:

• Where might I sit quietly, not moving, and listen?
• How might I invite different points of views to be expressed, allowing new thoughts, ideas, and experiences to offer contrast to what I think and believe?
• In what ways might I seek better relationships to improve my life?

May this journey from our inner bindings and confinement direct us to an outer expansiveness of beauty and healing in our lives!

Larry Gardepie
Dialogue San Diego Consulting