Learning to listen

Ayden Kowalski

s cene Writer

Listening is an underrated form of engagement. While we experience encouragement to find and use our voices here, it is equally important to recognize when we need to be focused on someone else’s voice, and how this absorption of another’s message can stir us. e xactly how our quiet attention aids us and our relationships differs across contexts, but generally, by learning to listen, we deepen our understandings of our friends and ourselves.

There is great use to giving our routines and experiences a musical soundtrack. All good parties have some playlist in the background that encourages certain emotions in us. s imilarly, when we match a melancholy winter walk with uplifting yet longing songs or celebrate the first day of spring with a throbbing setlist of summer anthems, we both create a release for our emotions and connect deeper with ourselves, understanding what we feel. b reakup albums help with breakups for a reason. A personal soundtrack may sound melodramatic, but we are extremely passionate in nature, and music is an ideal exhaust value for those passions.

We often seek to listen to those people or media that affirm us without suggesting we have room for growth. There is a humility required for listening to others, accepting that they may have wisdom for us. A friend who offers to read my paper may think it is garbage, and that could be the truth. A roommate with different experiences may have derived an opposing view of the world, and there may be some truths even in a scheme I generally do not accept. b ut we also do deserve to be heard, and it is important that we form relationships where our opinions are appreciated and considered. d ialogue is critical to any relationship, and if we only speak or hear, then the relationship will probably not last long.

Perhaps the most underrated part of listening, however, is becoming comfortable in quiet and silence. There is great peace and restoration in simply roaming campus and hearing birds chirping by, unfazed by the expectations upon us for the day. In my first year, I often went by s aint m ary’s Lake to photograph the sunset, and as I routinely came to the same spots near my dorm, where the curtain of trees split apart, I formed a little sanctuary for myself, beyond the chaos of adjusting to college life. The quiet and beautiful moments on campus are reminders that the problems of college life inflate in my mind, and no test or paper can swallow up all the joy to be found here.

There is also great value of our silence in company, especially when we give someone else the space to share their stories. When we listen to others not to solve them, but to understand them, then our relationships mature. It is a human urge to reply to a tough story with advice or a joke to lighten the atmosphere, but sometimes, all somebody wants is a witness, a companion to stay up with them in the garden. I know I have felt closest to others when I have let them share themselves without my response.

When we learn to listen, we discover we listen to learn — about ourselves, our worlds and each other. We enter a cathartic chorus, a constructive dissonance or a powerful silence and always emerge more whole. The power of listening is in our weakness; we can only receive. b ut, more often than not, we will gain something worth that risk of vulnerability.

You can contact Ayden at akowals2@nd.edu

The views expressed in this Inside Column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.

This clip from the 2009 movie “Inglourious b asterds” can help define my attitude as we begin m ay 2023.

“Well if this is it old boy, I hope you don’t mind if I go out speaking the King’s” is probably not what my editor really wanted to read as we wrap up a great year at The o bserver. b ut today marks the end of an era. As of this week, my column in this issue of The o bserver marks my final published piece as a student writer for v iewpoint, and with this being my final published piece of the school year, the reality of my educational career coming to an end for the foreseeable future has finally sunk in.

o n m ay 21, I will graduate from n otre d ame’s one-year mb A program. As a three-year graduate of holy c ross c ollege and a graduate of the msm program, my five-year plan has been an eventful one within the tri-campus. While a premeditated but unique plan, my path has taken me through highs and lows that have not only opened me up to the best of notre d ame, but to the best of myself as well. And I can’t believe it’s over. b ut as I soak everything up during these last three weeks of school, I believe that this final v iewpoint column can offer a great outlet for reflection on why I have come to call n otre d ame a second home. God willing, this will be the place I will continue to call home for the rest of my life.

Upon reflection on my childhood, I don’t see how my educational pathway could’ve been any different. n otre d ame was my dad’s dream school throughout the late 1970s and early 1980s, and those dreams became reality when he was accepted into the class of 1989. m y dad’s experience was one for the ages, as a stint in student government saw him meet President r eagan and a senior year road trip climaxed with a national c hampionship victory at the Fiesta b owl. m y dad’s love for n otre d ame carried over after he met my mom, as my parents were engaged at the Grotto in the summer of 1996. Quite a cliche, I know, but are there any better ways than that to invite a future spouse into the n otre d ame family? Probably not. The story goes that my mom saw an angel that very night at the Grotto, and after the ways that providence has held our lives together, there’s not a doubt in my mind that she did that day. And so, after my parents were married in the spring of 1997, future plans were certainly hatched in order to introduce any future children to the greatest c atholic institution in the United s tates of America.

m y first formal memories here on campus switch between summer trips and terrible c harlie Weis-led football games some odd 15 years ago. b ut no matter the context or the timing, these memories are all remarkably foundational and pleasant. As a young family of seven (and later eight), we would take brief summer trips here to m ichiana. We would pay a small fee to stay in the dorms overnight, enjoy the beach at s t. Joe Lake and later hit h olland, s t. Joseph and n ew b uffalo on our way back to c hicago. s hortly after this, my dad started to get tickets for football home games, and slowly but surely, our family became a staple at n otre d ame s tadium. And while the on-field product was a fraction of what it is today, band concerts on the steps, s outh d ining h all candlelight dinners and the rise of e ddy s treet c ommons all act as hallmarks of how our experience has been transformed over the years. And through the good times and the bad, these experiences slowly transformed into an atmosphere that mirrored our home.

s o fast forward 15 years, 70 football games and a completed education later, my thoughts on n otre d ame have rarely changed. While I have come to understand the University’s bi-partisan politics and had to cope with an undergraduate admission rejection, my position remains the same as my 12-year-old self. The University and the surrounding tri-campus are home, plain and simple. h ow many people who have had the opportunity to pursue higher education degrees can say that with a straight face? h ow many people who have attended higher education institutions can actively say they are in touch with the spiritual fiber of their university? I would argue that if anyone repeats “Yes” to what I just wrote, they probably attended the University of n otre d ame.

m y attachment to the 46556 zip code is definitely heightened by these spiritual fibers, as these fibers address and indicate the people we want to know and the people we want to be. o ur institution is a structure that truly encompasses this spiritual excellence in everything we say and do. The Grotto, the b asilica of the s acred heart and our shared vision and purpose all stand out to make notre d ame a destination for c atholics.

As I write and reflect on this, divine providence actually helped me to remember this fantastic piece published in notre d ame m agazine in the fall of 2014. I would highly recommend reading John s haughnessy’s ‘77 words for yourself, but I will attempt to do them justice with the s parknotes version. After a triumphant Irish victory over r ice that Labor d ay weekend, John was confronted with a situation in which he responded with a c atholic call to action. After the game, r ice’s kicker, a devout c atholic, needed to get to the Grotto before the team buses left the stadium. John helped with the rest. he writes:

“ The urgency in the young man’s voice — plus the two questions he asked — immediately grabbed my attention … In a tone that was both polite and urgent, he asked someone in our group about the location of the Grotto, and if he could get there and back in 20 minutes. It struck me that he didn’t just want to get to the Grotto, he needed to get there. As someone who believes my life has been blessed by the intercession of m ary, I felt touched by that need. And so, in a split-second reaction that I can only credit to the holy s pirit, I told the young man, ‘Let’s go. I’ll take you there.’ Then we both began running. I just hoped I could keep up with him.”

John truly understood the spiritual urgency of this situation when understanding the young man’s devotion to the b lessed m other. And in this brief 20-minute encounter, identity, devotion, fellowship and understanding are all shared between two complete and utter strangers, brought together through a shared purpose, identity and strength. And to c atholics who seek this deep relationship and intercession with the b lessed m other and the s acred heart of Jesus, encounters like these are just the beginning of possibilities that exist here at o ur Lady’s University. And it is because of encounters and experiences like this that I am proud to be a n otre d ame graduate, and I am excited to see what the future has in store.

Stephen Viz is a one-year MBA candidate and graduate of Holy Cross College. Hailing from Orland Park, Illinois, his columns are all trains of thoughts, and he can be found at either Decio Cafe or in Mendoza. He can be reached at sviz@nd.edu or on Twitter at @StephenViz.

The views expressed in this column are those of the author and not necessarily those of The Observer.