Think of the quietest and most serene scene you can imagine. You can hear your heart thumping in your chest and your slow and steady breaths releasing air from the deepest depths of your lungs. Your thoughts are a mere whisper, afraid to cause a ripple in the silence that encompasses you.
Now, think of the loudest, most chaotic scene you can imagine. Your head turns from side to side and your fingers graze the surfaces you pass as your brain works to put order and meaning to all of the stimuli overwhelming it. Your thoughts are shouting, desperate to be heard above the din.
In the first scene, what did you see? A meadow? A nook in your bedroom? Maybe even the library? How about the second scene? I am nearly certain most of you would have envisioned a crazy scene in the city where you are stuck amid the hustle and bustle of people.
Would you believe me if I told you that a city inhabited by thousands of people, animals, vehicles—anything that makes sound—could in fact be one of the most silent places in the world?
Crazy, right?
Well, maybe not quite.
There are approximately 2,718,782 people living in the city of Chicago. Yet, every time I go to the city, I never say more than a "no, thanks" to various solicitors on the streets or talk to anyone beyond placing my order at a counter. In my entire 21 years of life, I have lived less than an hour away from the city, and yet, I have never had a true conversation with any of its inhabitants.
This summer I am living just on the outskirts of the city in one of its cozy, little suburbs. I seem to have the same problem here. If I don’t talk to one of my roommates or speak to the girls I babysit, I could go an entire day without saying a word.
In an area surrounded by literally millions of people and thousands of different opportunities, I have never felt so isolated.
Sitting alone in my apartment right now, in the middle of the hectic day, I can hear all of the sounds around me. An airplane up above, grade-schoolers across the street being let out for the day, the manhole cover in the street that clanks every time someone drives over it. So many different sounds, yet it has never felt more quiet.
Eventually these sounds, these trivial everyday noises that once used to blare through your window in the morning become nothing more than white noise. White noise that you begin to tune out. White noise that begins to paint the illusion of silence.
In a city of so many people, you mistake brief contact with many for a lively and genuine conversation with one. You forget to appreciate every sound as it slips through your windows.
If I were to live in a town with only one other person besides myself, and if I were to truly know that person well, it would sound infinity louder than the city in which I currently reside. If you are fortunate enough to find someone with whom you can truly engage in conversation, then your sole focus is on the words coming out of their mouth.
Every syllable screams meaning to you, and you respond with equal enthusiasm, your attention being fully focused on the conversation; your mind becomes overwhelmed with the involvement you have in the conversation, your ears pick up every single sound and suddenly, it’s not so quiet anymore.
Live where you can distinguish between the various forms of silence and noise. Live where you can appreciate each noise that drifts your way. Live where you can embrace the silence and all that it bears. Live where you can build a connection, a real and true human connection with someone. Live where you can be happy.
