The Sounds of Silence

Unlike many people, who always need to have a television or radio on, I love quiet.

As I sit at my desk writing this blog post, I can hear the quiet breathing of one of my dogs as he sleeps in his 'den' under my desk. Outside, I hear nothing -- no traffic, no lawn mowers (I live in the high desert, where lawns are very rare), no kids squealing. The quiet environment is one of the reasons I bought the house I now live in.

In northern California, where I lived for more than 20 years, my senses were constantly assaulted by noise. Just a block away was a public park that hosted kids' baseball games seven days a week for eight months of the year. This league had a loudspeaker system, so I constantly heard "Now batting, number 5, Michael" until the game ended. The park had no parking, so my street and others nearby were filled with cars.

I was just 5 miles from the commercial airport, and a couple of blocks from a busy expressway. The sounds of emergency and police sirens, the squealing of tires, honking of horns and smashing of vehicles involved in accidents were a regular part of my life.

So when I retired and moved to New Mexico, I knew I wanted a place with quiet and space. I love where I live. I have wonderful views of the mountains, enough land (1/2 acre) for privacy and quiet, and a street that has very little traffic.

As an introvert, I am comfortable with silence. When I travel, I gravitate toward places that will fulfill my need for space and quiet. I guess that's why I enjoy hiking, traveling to remote places and going with small groups. I sometimes visit busy places -- London, Moscow, Jordan, Israel, Morocco -- but I really enjoy places where I can enjoy nature. I look forward every weekday morning to hearing a couple of minutes of singing birds on the local classical radio station. I have had tinnitus (ringing in my ears) for as long as I can remember, so my world is never completely silent. When I lived in Moscow in the 1990s, I always felt irritable, due in large part to the ever-present traffic noise. I loved finding places -- even in the city of 12 millions people -- where I could walk without the din of traffic.

I have been to Costa Rica twice. I love visiting Yellowstone in the winter, when there are only a few hardy people braving the snow and cold. I love visiting the vastness of Africa.  There is nothing like lying in bed and hearing lions roaring nearby, or listening to the grunting of hippos as they leave the water to eat on land. Those are the sounds of nature, not of man-made noisemakers. There are no airplanes flying overhead, and no sirens. There is no neighbor kid roaring up and down the street on an ATV.

Silence is so underappreciated. There is a reason why certain groups of monks and nuns take vows of silence. Some organizations offer silent retreats where guests can disengage from the world for a few days and live in a silent world. Silence can be the lack of sound in the environment, or it can mean abstaining from speaking for a period of time.

Either way, I think silence is good. It can be healing. It can help us refresh and reenergize ourselves. I make a point of trying to find silence in my everyday life. It isn't hard, given where I live. Give it a try. It might be uncomfortable at first, but I think silence is an important part of maintaining sanity in our crazy, high-tech, hurry-up world.