This morning after I sent my littles off on the school bus I sat for a minute, reveling in the quiet. Ah silence I thought to myself, completely contented. I was so enjoying it that I stayed a few moments more and the longer I sat, eyes closed breathing mindfully, the less silent it became.
I began to hear the whir of the ceiling fan, the tiny paw thuds of Princess Leia, the slow drops of rain on the roof. So I sat. Then came the cars, not just the ones driving past my house, no. I could hear the distant slam of a car down the block, the hum of a vehicle on the adjacent street. I could hear the cricket that lives hidden in our basement (I’ve named him Jiminy of course).
I brushed my hand along my face to smooth back a stray tickling hair and I could hear it so loudly that I was astonished and rather intrigued. I began to play. To touch different parts of my body. Your forehead sounds different than your cheeks, or your chin, or your lips... did you know that?
I can’t simply sit on the sofa all day rubbing things though now can I? I have things to get done after all. I didn’t want to stop playing though so instead of going about my business as usual, blasting 50s music and hurrying around the house clearing things up like a whirlwind, I decided to proceed in silence. I decided to move slowly and with intent, I decided to see all of the things I could hear.
My first task was a fairly basic one. To feed myself. I wanted a sandwich… a simple sandwich. Have you ever heard a bagel separating? Listened to the plastic of the cheese crinkle with interest? Do you know what a tomato sounds like being slowly sliced? The snap of iceberg lettuce as it tears? The sound of your hand moving across a stainless steel handle? The sliding of a drawer?
I know now. It was a pretty interesting process to be sure. I listened to the rustle of my clothes as I moved to sit again. I listened to the creaks in the floor and the sound of my feet tapping on it. I listened to the bites I took, to every chew, to the sound of my swallow. I tapped my nails against the side of my full coffee cup, I’m tapping it again now that its empty. It sounds a little different.
The E and the H key on the keyboard sound different. The T and the A, minor differences to be sure, but just enough to tell in surrounding silence. I think that I may spend the whole day this way, playing my little game. I’ll listen to every subtle nuance, and really hear for the first time the chorus of sounds that surround me everyday completely ignored.
Play with me. Stop. Breathe. Listen. What do you hear?
