My husband is a quiet man, who lived a long time as a bachelor, enjoying quiet pursuits like writing, hiking, and bird watching. We married when he was 49– nearly five decades into a lifestyle that highly values silent moments. I, on the other hand, had always lived around noise. Being a mother, educator and public programs coordinator I was always in the midst of layered sounds and chaos. For me, listening to the sounds of others has been an important way of gaging how people feel in situations – whether things are going well, or not. “Noise” is just evidence of living in my view.
So, when Tom and I were enjoying time in a park and nearby children were playing and screaming, I was surprised when he turned to me, annoyed and said, “Why do they have to do that?” “They’re happy!” I explained. “They’re making a joyful noise. Were you never a kid?” Tom seemed stunned by my response. After a pause, he reminded me that he’d lived with his grandparents as a child, and his mother had cautioned he and his brother to not be “noisy” and irritate them. It made me sad to think of children, trying to suppress their natural expressions of joy and the discovery of their strengths through voice. His comment made me see him not just as the beautiful, strong, deeply insightful man I love, but also as a man who carries around memories of a suppressed child inside. It taught me that there are no doubt others out there, who have been discouraged at having a voice. That was not my experience growing up though.
That early discussion has changed Tom. And he now looks at the world differently. When we are in public places where people shout and play, I look at him and say, “They are enjoying themselves. Can you hear it?” To me it is as beautiful as the robins that sing the morning chorus each sunrise. And certainly, it has helped reframe how Tom relates to our grandchildren, who don’t know how to contain their vocal enthusiasm for just about everything.
I hear joy in so many things that surround me. I hear it when my little dog Harley and I play chase and wrestle – his little grunts and play growls. I hear it in the purr of small kittens that want to cuddle. I hear it in the excited clucking and squawking of my chickens when they see me heading to their coop to treat them to some grapes. I hear it in our muffled chuckles while watching favorite television comedies or in laughter on the phone, when we reconnect with dear family and friends. I hear joy in Tom’s voice when he’s singing and playing his guitar in the other room. I hear joy when someone eats something I’ve cooked, and they respond with an “Mmmmm.” And I hear the sound of my own joy when I inhale, then say “Ahhhhh” after smelling the first hyacinth and lilacs of spring.
Everyone expresses their joy in different ways. Some with smiles, or high fives. Many with sounds. In a world filled with sad events and hard truths presented daily in our media, I think we owe it to ourselves and our mental health to spend time listening for where joy is being experienced, by any living being. And just as importantly, we should send our own sounds of joy out into the world, as beacons of light and hope to others.
For this month’s book review, you can learn more about making joyful noises in Froodle by Antoinette Portis, under Recommended Reads.
Little Seeds Read 