A quiet moment in the hammock
Yesterday, as I was waiting to pick up my children from school outside their classroom, I began to think about sound. How much of it can we tolerate on a regular basis before it becomes too much? This was not just a calm reflection that fluttered into my thoughts and then out again like a meek white dove. Rather, it was a rude gargoyle that stared intently at me as the pupils in the neighboring classroom streamed out of the door, several of them screaming at the top of their lungs. The sound pitch was not just a momentary shout for joy at the end of the school day, rather it was a shrill sound that was unbelievably sustained like the sound of an Iron Maiden concert listened to without ear plugs. The teacher, who stood in the doorway, seemed unperturbed by all of the screeching and glanced at me with a peaceful smile that indicated everything was as it should be.
As I was driving the children home, I asked them what they thought about the noise. “You should hear what it is like in the cafeteria at lunch time,” they sighed, indicating that my recent experience was kindergarten compared to what they had been through during the day. I began to wonder whether our ten years of living on a remote island had left us ill-equipped for the decibel levels of modern society. I remembered the sweet silence which was like a balm on the temples. Just the thought of it calmed my pulsating forehead.
The string of health research coming in from my favorite Swedish health site, Netdoktor.se, verified that I am not alone in thinking about the noise. The research looks at the effects of MP3 players and traffic on our hearing. Overall findings show that increasing numbers of us are admitting that we cannot hear properly well before the grey hairs start to show. Our hearing sustains damage at 90 decibels, a level well below the 120 decibels produced when an aircraft takes off. The decibel levels we were up at outside the classroom door made takeoff seem like a mild yawn.
What do we do about the noise? We have got to the point where even in Sweden, with its modest cities and vast tracts of wilderness, people are in danger of going deaf early. All over the world, the machinery of life (the food processor, the vacuum cleaner, and the car) may have ‘educated’ humans to tolerate increasing decibels for modernity’s sake. Now it is time for us to assume control based on our human needs. Just as there are innovative programs to awaken the sensory perception of children to the flavor and texture of good, fresh food (as opposed to the dangerous over-processed rubbish we have been led to believe is food), we need innovative action to reintroduce an appreciation of sound that entices us to listen rather than lose our hearing.
The sound of silence is beautiful. It is just that most youngsters today will never have the chance to recognize it because they have never experienced it.
