It’s been quiet around here. Again.
So many thoughts and snippets of posts float in and out of my mind. I open Facebook, either for my work or for myself, and any thoughts I have had get drowned out by the noise. In the loud, none of my thoughts or snippets stick.
It’s loud and it’s getting louder.
I feel as though the music in this great orchestra called Life just hit another crescendo. A moment when all the instruments turned up their volume just a bit to be heard. Only, in this moment, instead of all instruments being in precise tune and rhythm with one another playing along in symphonic harmony, this tune has everyone is playing their own music, rhythm, and speed. With every newsworthy event, the noise simply gets louder.
It sounds awful.
The noise is this culture in which we live. It is a culture that judges harshly and calls each other out loud, all over invisible platforms called social media. Everyone has an opinion and no one is afraid to use theirs… strongly. The name calling becomes resounding as those who judged are then judged for judging. The sound of fingers tapping on keyboards is drowned out by the verbal attack posts using CAPITAL LETTERS.
In the noise, none of my thoughts stick.
I’ve closed my computer more than a few times, lately, and walked away from the crescendo. In doing so, I’ve come to remember something I quickly forget. When I close my computer and turn off the TV, it’s remarkably quiet, mostly peaceful, and I can hear my thoughts again. Sometimes, the noise in my world becomes overwhelming because of things that happen that are out of my control. Other times, it’s because I’ve let the noise of others drown out the sounds of my real life.
The joy comes in turning off the noise that is drowning out this one life I live.
This week, I’ve heard the heartbeat of my family around a game table and the sound of my son’s voice when he calls just to check on our weekend plans. I’ve heard the giggles of girl cousins and the conversation of sisters. In the quiet today, I hear the music of wind rustling green leaves and the rhythm of the mower cutting blades of grass. I hear the sweet sound of children laughing and the tunes of my girl singing over the whirl of the mower engine.
In the quiet, I hear the words I almost missed.
In the quiet, the symphony is beautiful.