Cultivating awareness is an essential discipline for being in the moment. As awareness deepens we become more receptive; we gradually discover the life process and move from the quantified aspects of things to their qualities. We perceive ourselves less as observers and more as integral parts of the process. Awareness leads to the sure knowledge that we are creatures among creatures and that the earth is always aware of our presence. Awareness cannot be realized without solitude and silence. Solitude enables us to become aware of the boundaries of the self, to experience aloneness as a prelude to the experience of at-one-ness. To be silent is to let go of that fear which drowns out every kind of awareness. Silence leads us into mystery. Silence means stilling self-reflexive chatter and adopting an attitude of listening. Listen to the silence of the earth -- it is deafening. Listening to the silence of earth brings us into communion with every separate being -- a blade of grass moving in the breeze, an ant walking across a leaf, the eagle hovering high overhead, water flowing slowly from a hidden spring. One becomes an ear so that all might become music.
Listening to others clearly opens the way to understanding the situation. But listening to others requires quieting some of the voices that already exist within us. When this happens, there is space not only for our own truest voice, what the Quakers call the still small voice within. This voice always tells us the truth. And, as Alice Walker has said,
"...the inner voice can be very scary sometimes. You listen, and then you go 'Do whut?' I don't wanna do that! But you still have to pay attention to it."
We need to take time to quiet down and listen to ourselves with attention -- not only in the midst of action, but when we are alone ... we need to listen fully. It is the basis of all compassionate action.