For the past month I’ve been ruminating on a snippet from a sea shanty song I heard while weaving through small coastal towns in Nova Scotia on a tour bus. After a demonstration on lobster fishing and a quiz on the largest lobster ever caught (44 pounds in a nearby harbor), the tour director played a CD on which a regional artist sang that the the air off the ocean is “perfume for my soul.” That poetic combination of words has haunted me, causing me to ponder what spritz, what diffuser is perfume for my soul.
Three weeks after that turn of phrase caught my attention, I was reading a book on Benedictine prayer and was challenged to “listen with the ear of the heart.” Ah, another wonderful concept, I thought, and began considering those in my life who frequently model that unique skill of listening and wondered if listening with the ear of my heart is something I ever show to others.
Nursery rhymes, Dr. Seuss and Disney introduce us to catch phrases early in our lives. Well crafted marketing campaigns, tag lines and the like continue that work, often, I’m sure, with the help of focus groups. A clever turn of phrase can sway our votes and where and how we spend our dollars. In literature I’m drawn to characters and plots where the flow of the words seems effortless while being intelligent, sharp and savvy. I believe it shows in my writing when I simply try to be clever but not when something on the page also comes as a surprise to me. The next time a clever turn of phrase causes you to notice it, pay attention to what about it appeals to you. Context or content? Topic or timing? Meanwhile, I challenge you to join me in trying to listen to others more with the ear of the heart; we’ll get to the core of what people are saying to us quicker. Oh, and by the way, this time of year, the perfume for my soul would be burning leaves or warm apple cider.
Marilyn
