Live Virtual Group Session: 6pm EDT April 26th 2021

Thank you to everyone who joined for this session!

For this session we viewed the painting “The Song of the Lark” by Jules Adolphe Breton, posted below.

Our prompt for this session was: Write about a moment when you stopped to listen.

More details on this session will be posted, so check back!

Participants are warmly encouraged to share what you wrote below (“Leave a Reply”), to keep the conversation going here, bearing in mind that the blog of course is a public space where confidentiality is not assured.

Also, we would love to learn more about your experience of these sessions, so if you’re able, please take the time to fill out a follow-up survey of one to two quick questions!

Please join us for our next session Wednesday April 28th at 12pm EDT, with more times listed on our Live Virtual Group Sessions page.

The Song of the Lark


Jules Adolphe Breton
French, 1827-1906

6 thoughts on “Live Virtual Group Session: 6pm EDT April 26th 2021

  1. When I was a young teenager, I remember walking home through the fields. The sun was setting. It was a glorious evening. I stopped to watch the sunset when suddenly a flock of birds flew low over my head. I still remember the whirr of their wings some 50 years later. It was a profound and sacred moment.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Patricia D.

    A moment when you stopped to listen:

    During a silent retreat, while sleeping in a tiny cabin
    Rain drops pounded the tin roof.
    Not a pitter-patter sound – NO NO.
    It was so loud that my mind
    stopped churning out thoughts
    even the memory of my best friend’s
    recent death was drowned out.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. A moment when I stopped to listen~~~

    I stepped from my doorway on this brisk April morning.
    The air is so pristine and the Spring colors of the tulips and hyacinths welcome me forward.
    I am glad to be alive on this day.
    It is a special day for it reminds me of the beauty and the sounds my Creator has given me.

    I hear the pine branches rustling and whistling in the breeze that passes by me.
    A sense of melancholy lays on my mind.
    The robins are chirping loudly as they do combat to defend their territory for nesting.
    The Carolina wren perched up high on the walnut tree is belting out its morning wake-up song.

    A glorious morning!
    A wonderful day to witness and be alive.
    Possibilities now lie before me.


  4. al3793

    Write about a moment when I stopped to listen.

    Spring was making preparations to arrive.
    The air was crisp and frosted that morning.
    The sun had just peaked out trying to thaw the frost.
    There was no sound in the absolute morning stillness.
    A solitary voice broke the silence with it’s string two part whistles.
    Arching it’s back, while striking a striking scarlet pose,
    calling out to a potential mate, calling her to the duet
    “What cheer, what cheer. what cheer.”
    I stopped, peering into the branches, still gray from winter,
    looking for the only singer that could sing those notes.
    Undisturbed by my observation it called again,
    “What cheer, what cheer, what cheer.”

    Liked by 2 people

  5. al3793

    Write about a moment when you stopped to listen (This happened this morning.)

    Voice 1: “We are excited that you are going to get to go today.”
    Voice 2: “How are you doing?”
    Voice 3: “Um, I’ve been better.
    Voice 1: “I am happy to tell you that you have been accepted into the 90-day program. Hopefully, it will be long enough for you to get into recovery. I’ll discharge you right after we finish here.”
    Voice 3: “Um, ok. They called and said it would be this afternoon around three.”
    Voice 1: “I’m excited you won’t have to stay in the hospital.”
    Voice 2: “How do you feel about what is going on?”
    Voice 3: “Are you kidding? This is the 14th time I’ve been in the hospital this year. I just got discharged last Wednesday from a 30-day rehab and I was drinking again by Wednesday night.”

    Liked by 1 person

  6. I thought I heard his voice behind me, somebody calling me by name. Only once. I strained all of my senses to see if I would hear it again, the sound so familiar I could feel it go through me, the sound so distinct from everything else. I felt suddenly that all of me was listening, stopping my breath, straining behind me as only hearing can do, the hearing in me surround me like a sound going out, a pebble in the ocean, sound waves seeking to capture the sound heard once and not again, and the hearing through the breeze, the silence, the humming of a plane overhead, the body tense, tight, listening, too. I have become hearing, all hearing, all sound, all ear, eyes closed so I can tune in like a tuning rod, a tuning fork, listening in. Let me hear it again, I plea, just one more time in the distance, in my ear, up close. All I hear is the sound of my breath held inside of me, ready to be let out.

    Liked by 1 person

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