First I think it’s interesting to focus a little bit on the idea of “noise” as a term. I don’t think of noise necessarily as the opposite of silence. Noise seems inherently negative in terms of hearing, just as sharp seems a negative touch, or bitterness a negative taste. I consequently think of something inherently positive like “pleasant sounds” to be opposite noise. “Silence,” on the other hand, is not only an absence of noise, but also an absence of pleasant sounds. Silence can be both positive—relaxing, peaceful—and negative—foreboding, uncomfortable.
Now to apply these terms to the given questions. I find there to be an absurd amount of noise in my life, everywhere. In the morning, the sounds of people getting ready for work and school; at school, kids yelling in the hallways, constant lecturing (which is not always noise, but often is), intercom announcements, constant chatter, too much else to name; in the city, sirens, more chatter, construction, traffic; at home, sounds in the kitchen, more chatter (let’s be honest, arguments), and too many televisions. I must admit to contributing at least somewhat to virtually all of the listed noise. Noise is part of nearly every second in every location.
Ideally, one would seek out an absence of noise and a presence of pleasing sounds—it makes sense to want to trade a desirable sensation for an undesirable one. However, this idea has two problems: one, it is difficult to find a location that both lacks noise and has pleasing sounds. (For example, I sit by this creek sometimes in Marrott Park because I like the sound of rushing water, but I’m always frustrated by the fact that I can still hear the traffic a few hundred yards to my right.) Two, even pleasant sounds can turn into noise. (For example, I have been listening to the same group of birds yelling for the past half hour, and while it was pleasant at first, I have half a mind now to run at them with my hockey stick.) The consequence of being unable to find an ideal location with pleasant sounds but no noise is the desire for silence.
As silence does in fact have the capacity to be peaceful, it is often better to have silence and no noise than to have pleasant sounds and noise. Silence thus becomes essential to escape the constant unpleasantness of noise. (As I type this, I now hear sirens in addition to the cawing birds and televisions and chatter, and would like nothing more than to shut it all out.) It becomes essential to have quiet places anywhere they can be available, to escape noise. At the same time, it would not be desirable to have quiet everywhere, for that would bring in the elements of discomfort and foreboding (lacking continually the noise we have grown so accustomed to), and thus make noise sometimes preferable to the silence.
I suppose what I have arrived at is that it is essential to find a balance between noise and silence, to maintain peace of mind. What I would really love, however, is a wooded stream away from people and traffic, where I could tell the birds when to and when not to chirp, and maybe hear some Red Hot Chili Peppers when I felt like it. As I don’t think this place will ever exist, I will settle for a few short periods of daily silence to contrast the constant noise.
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