Saint Benedict Nods His Head: Listening Well in the Midst of Uncertainty
I read a beautiful article in The Atlantic last night after Verily suggested it. Staff Writer Megan Garber wrote, “The Utter Weirdness of Small Talk in a Pandemic: Pleasantries amid a global health crisis are woefully insufficient. They are also what we have.” Her article got me thinking about Saint Benedict. One of my favorite lines from his Rule is, “Never give a hollow greeting of peace or turn away when someone needs your love.” (RB 4:25-26)
I often think that we live in a culture full of hollow greetings of peace. The quick, “how are you?” as we walk past. The obligatory and often rote answers of, “Fine!” or “Busy,” as we continue on our way. Even if we are not fine. Even if we are too busy.
I teach a class on listening to college seniors, and I am guilty of this myself. I have often wondered, as I pass by calling out my response of “Fine," what would have happened if I said, “Actually, I’m having a hard day,” or “I’m exhausted” or “overwhelmed.”
When a dear colleague and friend took his own life a while back, this line from Saint Benedict resonated loudly in my ears and caused me to think - How can we change the culture of ‘hollow greetings?’ How might this have helped my friend?
These days, as I work from home, teaching my college seniors remotely, making space for our family of 5 to work, play, eat and rest together as Covid-19 brings uncertainty, I am noticing a change. The same change that Garber wrote about in her article.
When I reach out to a friend, or a neighbor via text, or connect with a student via Google Meet, I ask deeper questions. I ask follow up questions. I peel back my own vulnerability to share, “I don’t handle change or uncertainty well, so some days are hard.” Mind you, I have never handled these things well, but I am not sure I have ever shared that phrase with those close to me, until now.
I am asking the pointed question, “How is your mental health?” and listening well for the answer.
And the answers coming back are real, and honest, and vulnerable. Partly, I assume this is because the light speed pace of life has come to a grinding halt. I have time to sit and listen well, to ask hard questions, to be honest in my own replies. And these days, the connections we make are intentional - we are not just running into someone at the coffee shop.
I wonder what the lasting effects of this kind of intentional, vulnerable listening will be? When life returns to ‘normal,’ might this be something we hold on to? Something we carry with us as a memory...how this kind of connected listening feels. How this kind of vulnerable sharing feels. How it feels to not turn away when someone needs our love.
As we continue to practice this kind of listening during our days of sheltering and social distancing days of quarantine and working from home, can we consider it practice for the time when life returns to normal? For the time when, while rushing down the street on our way to the next thing, we stop and listen well.
We pause and ask a follow up question. We share honestly. We show love.
Because then, I imagine Saint Benedict nodding his head in approval.
Meet Anna Bonnema
Anna Bonnema is an open-armed Catholic and a lover of words and nature. Anna is a wife to a man with a contagious laugh and a mom to amazing teenage triplets. Though she calls herself an introvert, she loves to gather around the table or the fire. Fueled by tea, lattes, and dog snuggles, Anna loves small celebrations and glitter. Fill your favorite mug and join her on Instagram @annabonnema.