The Listener by Don Ollsin

A Living Moment in

Dreaming Thought Into Being

It began, as many living conversations do, in an unexpected way. A quiet lawn, a birthday gathering, the soft sound of water in the background. Someone asked me what was on my mind—a sincere, open question—and I paused. Then I asked if they wanted the real story. They said yes.

That yes opened the space.

I shared the story of meeting the Oak Deva in 1986—a moment that deeply marked me, though I didn’t fully understand at the time how far-reaching it would be. That encounter planted something in me, a recognition of the sentience of trees, of life itself. Now, decades later, the destruction happening on the land where I live has brought that presence back into sharp focus. It’s as if the Deva returned—not just to grieve, but to remind me of what’s still possible. That reconnection led to the emergence of what I now call the EarthSong Movement: a desire to help others wake up to the sentience of all life, especially plants and trees, and to offer spaces where that kind of attunement can be practiced, remembered, and embodied.

To my surprise, the person I was speaking with responded deeply. They shared a story of their own: a tree that had been part of their healing, and a book narrated from a tree’s perspective. That mutuality—the gesture of receiving and returning—turned the moment into something more than a conversation. It became a living field.

From there, the dialogue unfolded into something subtler: communication, memory, mental health, and the mystery of how we actually hear. They shared that something a therapist once said hadn’t landed until much later—but when it finally did, it felt like a part of them had known it all along.

That opened a door in me.

I’ve been exploring the idea of the inner listener—what I sometimes call the metacommunicator. It’s a presence within us that doesn’t just receive words, but holds them—quietly, patiently, without needing to respond. This listener isn’t the egoic part of us that prepares a reply. It’s more like an inner vessel, a silent awareness that rests in what’s being said and lets it unfold over time.

Sometimes healing doesn’t come from anything new being said—but from finally realizing what has been held all along. That realization doesn’t come through will. It comes through presence.

In this exchange, I saw that process in motion. There was no agenda, no effort to teach or fix—just a willingness to be real and to witness each other. That’s what I mean when I speak of dreaming thought into being. Not thought as content, but thinking as a shared unfolding. A co-emergence. A moment where something latent in one soul is heard by another—and becomes conscious in both.

This project I’m working on—Dreaming Thought Into Being—isn’t just about frameworks or philosophies. It’s about real moments like this. Moments where listening becomes a healing act, and where thought isn’t delivered but discovered together. Moments where the metacommunicator awakens, not just within one person, but between people.

And perhaps that’s one of the most profound things we can learn to do—to cultivate that kind of listener in ourselves. The one who isn’t waiting to speak. The one who isn’t trying to fix. The one who simply receives, and trusts the unfolding.

That is where thought becomes being.

Question to Reflect On

Have you ever experienced something landing long after the moment had passed—something someone said that didn’t make sense until much later?