This is fascinating. I will definitely read this book. I work with horses and so have been a practitioner of a form of third ear listening, but they are of course total masters of it. While at times it is essential for one's safety to "speak Equus" (watching and understanding their body language) humans will never really be fluent in it. Horses are keen observers and when I am working with them on the ground it is astounding how much they understand what I am asking them to do, or even what I think about them in the moment. It is almost like telepathy.
P.S. Adding that I also resonate with the concept of listening to silence. For me, silence can be a weapon, as my father gave my mom silence treatments very often due to his inability to resolve conflicts and handle my mom's overbearing demands. But later in life, I learned to appreciate silence (when it was not used as a weapon) when I lived in Sweden. Friends and couples there are very used to a sort of comfortable silence. It gives one a sense of harmoney and peace, and I liked that very much.
This is a fascinating interview, Aimee. Thanks for introducing Elizabeth Rosner and her books. I was amazed at the similiarities of Elizabeth's and my experiences growing up in a multilingual family. My parents spoke 2 Chinese dialects between them, then we kids picked up a third at school after we all moved from China to Hong Kong. So our parents had to learn that third dialect from us. Plus we had to learn English as it's the official language and crucial for our future (a sort of guarantee for moving up the social-economic ladder). Strangely, perhaps naturally, it didn't cause confusion in my mind to learn all those languages. I did develop a very sensitive ear for accents. Having a Mandarin accent in a predominantly Cantonese-speaking society would evoke prejudice among the locals, and thus risk being looked down upon because it would reveal one's refugee status. Well, none of this was lost in my acute ears. And then, when I was older, my own English with a strong accent was the subject of ridicule by my upper-class classmates. So I made a great effort to try to lose my accent, but so far I haven't succeeded even after decades.
This interview really made me reflect deeply the kind of hearing I had developed, and what I wish to develop further in terms of listening to others.
Elizabeth's interpretation of trauma is also extremely fascinating and I resonate with it. I'm very sensitive to high pitches and voices imbued with anger, because that was the kind of voice I grew up with. Wrath was never far away. Even today, my mother's voice of rage rages on in my brain, even though she doesn't do that anymore. The emotional scar is deep and something I have to live with.
Thank you for this wonderful essay. I look forward to reading Part 2.
Fascinating, Louisa! You know, we're born with the ability to tune in ANY human language and learn it, but that ability soon shrinks to focus on those spoken around us. You in multilingual households are lucky to hang on to many more synapses than the rest of us!
As for sensitivity to frequencies of rage, I had that, too. We lived with similar dynamics, you and I -- volatile and erratic mother, silent fuming father. My dad literally fumed, as he chain smoked! (I never realized that metaphor until just now!!!) Thanks as always for reading so closely and responding!
Thank you, Aimee, for your thoughtful response. It excites me to learn that we are born with the ability to tune in ANY human language and learn it. Now you've just reminded me of the movie "The Thirteenth Warrior," where the main character has spent a long time in a tribe (bear tribe) listening and not speaking at all. One day, out of the blue, he was able to speak their language! That movie really inspired me, and perhaps it was one of the unconscious things that made me believe I could pick up another language (Swedish) at the age of 30, and did so quickly.
But for some reason, perhaps due to the dominance of English--especially American English--nowadays, there aren't many opportunities for me to own up to and feel proud of my developed synapses. In fact, I've always felt that my "foreign" accent and imperfect English is a disadvantage, especially since my aspirations have a lot to do with mastering the language.
I appreciate that you shared with me your sensitivity to the frequencies of rage. Indeed, our experiences with our respective parents are quite similar, and that metaphor you just came up with is fascinating! My father stuck his emotions all inwards, and I have an inkling that his cancer might have had something to do with that.
Loved this interview and to be introduced to the intriguing concept of the third ear.
This is fascinating. I will definitely read this book. I work with horses and so have been a practitioner of a form of third ear listening, but they are of course total masters of it. While at times it is essential for one's safety to "speak Equus" (watching and understanding their body language) humans will never really be fluent in it. Horses are keen observers and when I am working with them on the ground it is astounding how much they understand what I am asking them to do, or even what I think about them in the moment. It is almost like telepathy.
Yes!!!!! A bit more on horses in Part 2. So extraordinary 🙏🏼♥️
Such powerful insights from Elizabeth Rosner and you, Aimee. Thank you for your courage and compassion in sharing your conversation.
P.S. Adding that I also resonate with the concept of listening to silence. For me, silence can be a weapon, as my father gave my mom silence treatments very often due to his inability to resolve conflicts and handle my mom's overbearing demands. But later in life, I learned to appreciate silence (when it was not used as a weapon) when I lived in Sweden. Friends and couples there are very used to a sort of comfortable silence. It gives one a sense of harmoney and peace, and I liked that very much.
Yes, I found safety and solace in silence. I love how Elizabeth explores it as the sound of time and understanding. More on that in Part 2!
The sound of time and understanding! Wow, I can't wait to read Part 2.
Similar to you, I've found a great sense of comfort and safety in silence and instrumental music (especially classical music).
This is a fascinating interview, Aimee. Thanks for introducing Elizabeth Rosner and her books. I was amazed at the similiarities of Elizabeth's and my experiences growing up in a multilingual family. My parents spoke 2 Chinese dialects between them, then we kids picked up a third at school after we all moved from China to Hong Kong. So our parents had to learn that third dialect from us. Plus we had to learn English as it's the official language and crucial for our future (a sort of guarantee for moving up the social-economic ladder). Strangely, perhaps naturally, it didn't cause confusion in my mind to learn all those languages. I did develop a very sensitive ear for accents. Having a Mandarin accent in a predominantly Cantonese-speaking society would evoke prejudice among the locals, and thus risk being looked down upon because it would reveal one's refugee status. Well, none of this was lost in my acute ears. And then, when I was older, my own English with a strong accent was the subject of ridicule by my upper-class classmates. So I made a great effort to try to lose my accent, but so far I haven't succeeded even after decades.
This interview really made me reflect deeply the kind of hearing I had developed, and what I wish to develop further in terms of listening to others.
Elizabeth's interpretation of trauma is also extremely fascinating and I resonate with it. I'm very sensitive to high pitches and voices imbued with anger, because that was the kind of voice I grew up with. Wrath was never far away. Even today, my mother's voice of rage rages on in my brain, even though she doesn't do that anymore. The emotional scar is deep and something I have to live with.
Thank you for this wonderful essay. I look forward to reading Part 2.
Fascinating, Louisa! You know, we're born with the ability to tune in ANY human language and learn it, but that ability soon shrinks to focus on those spoken around us. You in multilingual households are lucky to hang on to many more synapses than the rest of us!
As for sensitivity to frequencies of rage, I had that, too. We lived with similar dynamics, you and I -- volatile and erratic mother, silent fuming father. My dad literally fumed, as he chain smoked! (I never realized that metaphor until just now!!!) Thanks as always for reading so closely and responding!
Thank you, Aimee, for your thoughtful response. It excites me to learn that we are born with the ability to tune in ANY human language and learn it. Now you've just reminded me of the movie "The Thirteenth Warrior," where the main character has spent a long time in a tribe (bear tribe) listening and not speaking at all. One day, out of the blue, he was able to speak their language! That movie really inspired me, and perhaps it was one of the unconscious things that made me believe I could pick up another language (Swedish) at the age of 30, and did so quickly.
But for some reason, perhaps due to the dominance of English--especially American English--nowadays, there aren't many opportunities for me to own up to and feel proud of my developed synapses. In fact, I've always felt that my "foreign" accent and imperfect English is a disadvantage, especially since my aspirations have a lot to do with mastering the language.
I appreciate that you shared with me your sensitivity to the frequencies of rage. Indeed, our experiences with our respective parents are quite similar, and that metaphor you just came up with is fascinating! My father stuck his emotions all inwards, and I have an inkling that his cancer might have had something to do with that.