Day 8: Silence is golden

I can't focus in randomly noisy surroundings. Usually I’ll put on my headphones and listen to some music if I’m trying to concentrate and need to drown out background noises. I do this pretty much all day at work. However, more and more I find that there are many times when I simply crave silence.

For example, a few nights ago I came home from a stressful day at work (this was also the flu-shot day) and, in hopes of a peaceful and comfortable night in, I put on my leopard-print flannel pajamas. (“Steven Tyler PJ’s!” Name that movie.) All I wanted for the rest of that evening was to sit with my Bible and do my daily lectio divina, which is something I need to do in silence so I can truly tune in and listen.

However, I do not live alone. Even when I am alone in my office (the room I go to for solitude with lectio divina, reading, prayer time, etc), I can hear the television from the downstairs living area. When on, the TV audio has a mumbling quality to it from up there, and I find that to be rather distracting when I am trying to concentrate…. I notice every little mumbling line of dialogue or “thump-thump-thump” of the bass line when music comes on.

It is so not peaceful.

This isn't usually much of a problem because I tend to do my lectio divina later in the evening, right before going to bed, when the television is turned off and the house is quiet. But, that night, I was too exhausted to stay up as late as I normally do. Playing music would be too distracting for this, so I tried to drown out the television with this white-noise thing I have. I opted for the sound of ocean waves to drown it out (no pun intended).

I thought I was ready to get started then. Me. My comfy chair. The bible. The digitally fabricated sounds of the “ocean.” Problem solved, right?

Well, I tried. The ocean waves rolled steadily and sounded realistic, at least to my Midwestern ears. It was so realistic, actually, that I started to get the urge to pee. As soon as I had fought the temptation to stand up and do the potty dance, I settled back into my chair and prepared to open up The Book and get this party started. And then I heard it…

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

There it was, insistently rising up above the crashing sound of the ocean waves.

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

Dancing with the Stars. The TV was turned on to Dancing with the freaking Stars, and the music had some seriously thumping bass going on. And on. And on...

Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.

And on.

Bleep! Bleep! Bleep! Bleep!

...

bleep.

That last part is the edited version of what was going through my head at that point.

Lovely, I know.

There I was, in my futile attempt to be all spiritual discipline-y and get centered and try not to dwell on my flu-shot-induced symptoms and achy arm and work stress, and all I could do was run a string of expletives through my head. Not exactly what God was wanting to hear from me, I'm sure.

That little internal tantrum was only momentary, though, because I knew better than to act on those feelings of frustration. I also could have opted to give up and feel defeated, but playing the victim like that is immature and a waste of time, especially about something so trivial. I mean, I knew that just because I would like some silence, not everyone else in the house felt the same way, or that they should bow to my will and turn off the television. After all, who am I to deprive anyone of Dancing with the Stars?

Still, I was determined to find a good way to get some peace and quiet. Therefore, I came up with a solution:

Two small pieces of rubber. One big difference.

The variety of earplugs the drugstore had to choose from was pretty amazing. I had no idea such options existed. It was a whole new world to be explored! After pondering the plethora of plugs, I picked out a pair that promised to block out the sounds of power tools and NASCAR events. I figured that ought to cover even the most obnoxiously bass-driven Cha Cha or Samba or whatever else booms itself out of the television speakers.

Once I was home again, back into my pajamas and my ears now sufficiently plugged, I was ready to give it another try. I smiled peacefully when I discovered that all I could hear was the sound of my breath as air entered and exited my nostrils.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

All other noise ceased to exist.

Glorious silence, at last!

Those earplugs are quite possibly the best $1.99 I’ve ever spent. (As long as the fire alarm doesn’t go off while I’m wearing them, that is.)