What goes without saying (VIII): I'm all ears

A series of conversations with phrases that might know more than we think

We assume that we know what common sayings and idioms mean. We've heard them a million times, so often that they've become background noise. They’ve been filed away either as simple truths or outdated wisdom.

But what if these phrases are more than meets the eye, and maybe they’ve been quietly pointing toward something deeper all along?

What if the sayings that feel most familiar, or most uncomfortable, are actually doorways into understanding the space between words, the quality of presence, the field that's always listening? Even the most ordinary phrases can carry the most extraordinary invitations.

There’s no right or wrong here, just some explorations into what else might also be true, in the layers we haven't noticed yet. Sometimes wisdom hides in plain sight, simply waiting for us to lean in and really listen.

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“I'm All Ears”

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A conversation…

Modern Reader: Aaaahh I like this one, it’s so straightforward, surely this can’t be misinterpreted! It's just a friendly way of saying "I'm listening" or "tell me what's on your mind." Nothing mysterious here.

The Phrase: (with full presence) Just listening?

Although, it is interesting to think - what does it really mean to be all ears?

Modern Reader: Well... I would say it means you're paying attention. Giving someone your full focus when they want to talk.

The Phrase: You're thinking of me as simply a polite social signal, indicating “I’m ready to be here for you”. But what if I'm pointing to an actual transformation?

Modern Reader: Eh. Like what?

The Phrase: The kind where "you" disappear and what is left is purely the capacity to receive.

(a long pause)…

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(openness)…

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Tell me, when you say "I'm all ears," are you still... you? Or have you become something else completely?

Modern Reader: Well, I guess, I'm still me, but just... focused on listening.

The Phrase: But if you're all ears, what happened to the rest? Where did your thoughts go? Your agenda? Your need to respond?

Modern Reader: I... I guess they're just set aside for the moment.

The Phrase: Exactly. And what remains when everything else is set aside?

Modern Reader: Just... listening?

The Phrase: Not just listening. The space where listening happens. You've become nothing but receptivity itself.

Modern Reader: That sounds a bit intense for such a casual phrase.

The Phrase: Does it? Or have you just been casually pointing to something profound without realising?

When you truly become "all ears," you're not managing the conversation anymore. You're not planning responses. You're not even trying to understand.

You've become pure openness.

Modern Reader: But surely I'm still there, doing the listening...

The Phrase: Are you? When someone is speaking and you're completely absorbed - when you've forgotten yourself entirely emersed in what they're sharing - who's doing the listening?

Modern Reader: (hesitating) hmm.

I don't know... it feels like the listening just... happens.

The Phrase: Yes. Because when you're truly all ears, there's no "you" left to get in the way. Just the field of hearing itself. Some call this listence.

Modern Reader: It’s just a strange interpretation of such a common expression.

The Phrase: Is it strange? Or is it what you've been experiencing all along without noticing?

Think about the last time someone shared something deeply personal with you. In that moment when you were completely present - where were you?

Modern Reader: I was... I wasn't thinking about myself at all. I was just there with them.

The Phrase: You were all ears, literally, not a person with ears, but ears themselves. 100 per cent receiving.

Modern Reader: So when I say "I'm all ears," I'm offering to disappear?

The Phrase: You're offering to become the space where they can be fully heard. Not by you, but by something larger that you've temporarily become.

Modern Reader: (nervous laugh) That's both beautiful and scary.

The Phrase: Most real offers are. Because when you're truly all ears, you can't control what you hear. You can't filter it or manage it or make it more comfortable.

You just receive it all.

Modern Reader: What if what they share is too much? Too painful?

The Phrase: Then you discover that ears can hold more than you thought possible. That the capacity to receive is larger than your capacity to cope.

Being all ears isn't about being strong enough to handle everything. It's about becoming spacious enough to let everything be.

Modern Reader: (softly) I don't think I've ever really been all ears, then.

The Phrase: You have. In moments when you forgot to be anyone in particular. When you stopped trying to be a good listener and just... listened.

Modern Reader: How do I... how do I become all ears more often?

The Phrase: You don't become it. You stop being everything else. Stop managing, stop preparing, stop protecting, stop performing.

What remains is what was already always there - the openness that doesn't belong to anyone.

Modern Reader: And that's enough?

The Phrase: (smiling) To be all ears? That's everything.

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What went without saying here might change how you hear this phrase forever.

That "I'm all ears" isn't just an offer to listen - it's an offer to disappear into pure receptivity. To become the space where someone can be fully received.

When we're truly all ears, we stop being a person who listens and become listening itself. The field of openness that can hold anything without being overwhelmed by it.

Maybe this common phrase has been quietly pointing to one of the most generous things we can offer each other - not our attention, but our absence. Not our listening skills, but our willingness to become nothing but the capacity to receive.

What if "I'm all ears" is actually an invitation into the most selfless state possible - where only listening remains?