Curiosity Killed The Brief

To eat isn’t to taste.
To watch isn’t to see.
To touch isn’t to feel.
And to hear, most certainly is not to listen.

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It’s wild to realise the seismic gap between two acts that, at first glance, look like the same thing.

Actions without intentions.

For whatever reason, I (Leo Marks, 23) have spent my trips around the sun doing a lot of hearing, but not nearly as much listening.
If there were a Sky Sports-style possession graphic to illustrate this disparity it would probably look something like this.
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Hearing 78%
Listening 22%

‍Or something to that effect.

Maybe it's down to the fear that if I don’t store, lock and load my thoughts, ready to fire as soon  as the person I’m talking to finishes, they’ll vanish into the abyss.
Maybe it’s just a lack of real estate. My head is already filled with neurosis, running commentaries and the names of obscure snooker players. There just isn’t the space.
Or maybe it’s just good ol’ laziness, hearing is easy and listening is hard, and my mind knows it.

Whatever the cause, on Friday the 26th, sitting in a (sort of) circle at the SCA and practicing Nancy Kline’s ‘Thinking Space’, something clicked.
Five minutes of staring awkward silence dead in the eye as we clawed hacked and burrowed into unformed ideas whilst our partners could only respond with a simple:

“What more do you think?”
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Triggered a shift in outlook.

The complete removal of any responsibility bar that of ‘to listen’ created a void in which understanding could flourish, leading me to begin to view my role as not only a student and creative but as a person in an altered light.

Major. I know.
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Once we stop, breathe, and accept that we’re not agents of conversation, tasked with cracking jokes, steering thought into familiar waters or scrambling to fill dreaded silences we open ourselves up to the real opportunity conversations hold.
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The chance to listen.
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It’s how we learn, grow and connect.
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We spend so much time in our own heads. When someone else speaks, it’s a golden ticket into theirs.
You wouldn’t watch the same TV channel every day. (Unless that channel was ITV, and you have a serious thing for Bradley Walsh.)

So why prioritise your own noise when you could dial it down for a bit and listen to someone else's sounds. Sounds you could use to create a masterpiece of your own.

So as this year unfolds, my vow is simple:

To breathe.
To ask.
To listen.

Because curious might just be the best thing you can be.

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