The Yoga of Deep Listening

I was about six years old when my sister, mother, and I relocated to a new state following my parents' separation. Struggling to fit in and socialise had been a constant challenge for me, from daycare through kindergarten, and now school. This move merely extended my social isolation, a solitude that, to be honest, felt both natural and somehow preferable. I spent my time engaged in solitary, quiet play, disengaged and distant from others, immersed in my own world. One day, while playing in the backyard that merged into a forested glen, I remember using my imagination to interact with invisible forces that seemed to emanate from the trees, engaging them in imaginary battles as they appeared.

Then, on this particular day, unexpectedly, I heard a bird call echo and resound, breaking the silence. It was followed by a loud, high-pitched shrill that resonated within my inner ear, thrusting me into a kind of loud silence. This sound expanded inside me and then upwards and outwards until it left me with a profound sense of existential awareness. It was as if the doors to my inner world had been flung open, allowing the outside to rush in while simultaneously my inner being flooded outwards. It was a bewildering moment of realisation and recognition of my very own life, previously absorbed in other matters. Now standing there, everything around me also pulsed with life. My perception widened to embrace the immense presence of everything breathing together in that strange space. In that moment, everything paused in the rhythm of that breath, in that listening, that sound, and in that sudden confrontation and communion with existence. The moment then passed, and it was time for another game, another adventure. I went back inside the house.

Many of us share variations of this story or can relate to it in some way, finding ourselves gripped by a spontaneous awareness of our own existence. This awareness is a profound and bewildering presence, leaving us astonished by the utter aliveness of life as it unfolds, free from the constraints of psychological time. It's the weight of the responsibility of that life that produces a sort of free fall in us, or as Kierkegaard puts it, “the dizziness of freedom.” I am reminded of a quote by the somewhat questionable Chogyam Trungpa: “The bad news is you’re falling through the air, nothing to hang on to, no parachute. The good news is, there’s no ground.” The truth in this wisdom to me, however, is unquestionable.

For some, this free fall produces an anxiety tied to the unknowns of life. Yet, in my experience, it feels as though my mind, even as it tumbles through infinite space, is simultaneously cradled by that very infinity—just as silence holds sound, just as the ocean holds waves. It seems the ultimate act of surrender lies in loosening our tight grip on the past and future, and opening into the expanse where life is. This is a liberation from the known and predictable, a leap into the great and mysterious unknown.

As for the sound that rang through my ears, marking the onset of this existential awakening, it too, like the vastness of space, has become my ally. Rather than harbouring a fear of the uncertain perils that lurk at the very edge of life, I find solace and trust in them as the only companions I can truly depend on. After all, when everything is in flux, decaying, and transient, what else can we rely on? My entire life, I've sought solid ground within this infinite space, only to discover that the infinite space itself is the ground. I have listened intently, searching for the precise words from the perfect master that would unlock the doors to truth, only to realise that all their words emerge from silence—the master of all masters.

Sound Ceremony extends an invitation into that silence, encouraging us to listen more deeply and let that listening guide us from the superficial to the profound, uncovering the truth that there has never been any distance between existence and essence. To hear that sweet sound of who we are, and who we have always been, whispering in every moment, calling us home.

Though we call this “the yoga of deep listening”, one should not fall into the assumption that our work exclusively explores Eastern philosophies and schools of thought. While it indeed weaves through streams of wisdom from Taoism, Buddhism, and Advaita, the underlying inquiry is neither absolute nor pledges sole allegiance to any doctrinal branch. With this in mind, you should not consider our teachings as absolute authority, but as a companion in your own investigation. If any part does not resonate or suit you, feel free to abandon it and move forward. A teaching only gains meaning through practice, study, and comprehension, which begins with listening, contemplating, and meditating upon it.

The term “yoga” refers not just to physical postures but to its original meaning of “yoking” or “uniting”—to engage with, to immerse oneself in, to be wholly absorbed by. We hope to draw you into an intimate involvement with the practice of deep listening, where you will discover a profound presence that listens. The yoga of deep listening invites you on a journey to explore this presence, fostering a connection that transcends mere intellectual understanding to touch the essence of existence itself.