Listening Without Language
Synchrony
Two hearts come together, entrain as one, synchronize in fluid exchange, harmonize perfectly. Beyond logic lies another form of cognition— familiar, yet elusive to describe or measure. Its nature defies understanding. Each encounter brings newness, alive with spontaneity, dynamic and deeply perceptive.
Not all things that hold us together are visible or tangible. Sometimes we simply know—there is a strong connection, a spark, a light that illuminates the bond between two beings. Even the small act of bending down to pick up a stone—the one that catches your eye, that one among thousands—signals a kind of recognition. That pull, that moment of attention, is the beginning of relationship. We start to form a kinship within shared presence.
Finding solace in nature is an integral part of understanding our inner lives. Reconnecting with the more-than-human world helps us form deeper relationships with ourselves and with our communities. Nothing in nature survives alone. By tending relationships with other species, we remember how to thrive—and how it feels to be fully alive. These sensory encounters guide us through a creative and restorative journey, opening the heart-sense and awakening intuitive awareness.
Whether we are conscious of it or not, we are already bound to the natural world. With careful attention and observation, we can rekindle that spark and keep the fire lit.
Nearly two years ago, during a period of recovery, I found myself drawn into companionship with the trees and plants surrounding my home. Each familiar presence arrived in its season, carrying both comfort and meaning. Born from daily closeness with these beings, my reflections revealed important learnings and awakenings. I began to sense that plants reach out—that they are not indifferent to our presence.
What began as quiet observation grew into an intimate awareness of kinship: a recognition that these beings are not separate from me, but companions in a shared web of life. Their presence reshaped my understanding of healing, memory, and joy. The natural world continues to teach me what it means to belong.
The glue between species—human and more-than-human alike—is rooted in a kind of body language. We are bound through rhythm, proximity, observation, and shared breath. In community, we grieve, care, sing, dance, and make. Sometimes, we are bound simply by being close.
Recently, I both witnessed and participated in a form of communication that was entirely new to me. I was invited into a rhythmic dance—an exchange without words.
Imagine a place far from the coast of Maine. People dressed in flowing garments of electric blue, orange, black, and yellow, a culture unfamiliar to my stoic New England sensibilities. The air was moist and heavy with heat; the sun strong and lingering. The scent of red dust permeated my senses. A steady drumbeat pulsed—constant and irresistible.
At first, I watched from a short distance. Dancers approached one another with repetitive, inviting movements—an offering of connection. The invited mirrored the gesture, holding eye contact while moving together in unison. Then one dancer moved on, inviting another, and another. They listened to one another through movement and gaze alone. This wordless exchange, transcending language, beckoned me.
I accepted the invitation gladly. My body struggled at first to find the rhythm of my partner; I moved awkwardly, trying to follow. Then something shifted. It clicked. My nervous system settled. My movement aligned with the beat of my heart, and suddenly I felt a sense of coherence with this person I had never met and could not otherwise communicate with. We smiled—wide, unguarded smiles—in mutual recognition.
That once-in-a-lifetime experience attuned me to the power of non-verbal communication. It reminded me that some forms of connection live beyond language.
To listen without language is to trust the body, the heart, and the space between us. The body knows how to listen—through rhythm, breath, and shared presence, we create coherence.
If this reflection resonates, I invite you to continue the conversation with me in the community space. In January, paid subscribers will receive a tutorial exploring adhesives and glues, followed by a live Zoom gathering on January 16 at 10 a.m. EST, where we’ll come together to reflect on the theme The Glue That Binds Us, a metaphorical exploration of adhesion, connection, and creative resilience.
Hope to see you there.
Karen


I really liked reading this and also listening to it Karen.
Having started Forest Bathing through Karen Olson's online class, I have begun stepping into the bird sanctuary nearly 30 minutes from my home at least once or twice a week. It's a place that tells me so much I needed to know about living. I'm shown how to slow down. to honor the season and to see how it is changing even as I live it. The joy of living is found in the immediacy of the moment, and there is an invitation to take each one moment fully embracing it before it changes often right before my eyes and/or my camera.