Listening to Your Life

“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery that it is. In the boredom and pain of it no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”

-Frederick Buechner, Now and Then: A Memoir of Vocation

It’s not always pleasant to listen to our life.  The sounds our life recall include a multitude of feelings and events that we don’t want to hear. It can be quite unpleasant to listen to our life. But when we “see it for the fathomless mystery that it is” the memories take on another dimension.  If remembering “the boredom and the pain” is a good thing, then listening to our life becomes an exercise of grace and beauty. Buechner admonishes us to “touch, taste, and smell our way to the holy and hidden heart” of our lives. The reason that he recommends this is the best part of all.  We do this “because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”

I’ve had the same counselor for twenty six years.  I met Dr. Brown on June 11, 1992 when I was going through the struggle of my life.  I don’t recall much of what we talked about, but I do remember that he told me that I had “fuzzy boundaries.”  I told him that I had no idea what he was talking about. It’s no wonder the concept is hard to grasp as we were still discussing personal boundaries when my wife and I saw him for the last time about six weeks ago. It wasn't "marriage counseling" as we are doing just fine. It's just that my wife offers perspective on me that I can't provide for myself.  It was in that session that he told us he had retired and was moving to New Orleans to be near his daughter.

One thing Dr. Brown and I  discussed over those years is my tendency to have “profound experiences.”  I argued that these experiences were indeed “profound” and he argued that to say particular experiences are “profound” is to say that most of my experiences are relatively insignificant. On the one hand I’d like to submit that if Moses referred to the burning bush as “profound” then he would have every right to do so.  On the other hand I’ve never seen a burning bush. But certain things have happened to me that were to me at least extra-ordinary. I’m listening to music that means much to me.  In the fall of 1975 I was traveling with my sleeping college girlfriend, now my wife,  on US Highway 78 east toward Birmingham, Alabama. I was listening to beautiful music on the radio that I had never heard before. When we passed the Sumiton Church of God something “profound” happened. Like that ancient burning bush, the windows of the church seemed to be on fire and yet the building wasn’t consumed. My heart seemed to be on fire as well. What I was seeing matched what I was feeling listening to that music.  As the music continued my exuberance continued.  After the music concluded with its dramatic climax, the DJ said, “You’ve been listening to Ottorino Respigui’s Church Windows”.  I’ve been by that church many times since that night and it was an ordinary church. No burning windows.  I have listened to Church Windows dozens of times since then and nothing ever caught fire.  So did anything extraordinary happen that night?  It did for me. My girl friend never knew the difference. And yet I understand and acknowledge both Frederick Buechner’s and Dr. Brown's admonition that “In the last analysis all moments are key moments” “and life itself is grace”. Arriving alive in Birmingham or anywhere on any given day is then no longer a matter of either profundity or boredom, but is a matter of life and death.

When Dr. Brown told us that he had retired and that that session would be our last, maybe it was not a "profound experience," but it was definitely breath-taking.  And yes my wife and I both cried. In similar circumstances, you would cry too. 

You're longing for a "profound experience?"  Something "extraordinary?"  If you can "touch, taste and smell", you're well on your way. Listen to your life. You may be surprised what it says to you.