Hear it -- Feel it....

As I sit here listening to the sound of the waves rolling in and out from my kitchen, I think about how these sounds affect me.  We are all impacted emotionally by sound – they can make us happy, sad, angry, excited, nostalgic, and more.  I am very influenced by the feelings that sounds bring forth,  and  I wonder about people who are deaf.  What do they hear in their heads?  Do they imagine sounds when they see things – and what do they sound like if they do?  I’m sure people describe sounds to them or read descriptions, but I just wonder what they actually sound like to them.  My great Uncle and Aunt were deaf.  They lived very normal lives, just like all of us.  I'm sure they "heard" sounds -- just differently than we do - maybe more clearly.  I wish I’d asked them these questions.   I’d love to know.

I can pinpoint my favorite sounds and least favorite sounds…as I’m sure we all can if we think about it.   I’ll cover my least favorite and get it out of the way….  I cannot stand the sound of TV as background sound when no one is watching.  I don’t mind it if someone is watching, but if it’s just on and left, it brings on a very stressful feeling.  My husband loves to have the TVs on – in every single room, whether he is there or not.   He says he doesn't hear what it's saying, but he enjoys the sound. I am convinced that when my husband hears my voice he has the same feeling he gets with the TV playing in the background.  He knows I'm talking,  usually likes that I'm there,  but doesn't hear a word I'm saying!  HA

I have two favorite sounds.  The first is that of a dove cooing.  It evokes many emotions – nostalgic, calm, hopeful feelings.  Everywhere I’ve ever lived, doves have been outside my window cooing away, and that one constant has given me comfort.  At first when I hear it, I am immediately taken back to my childhood, visiting my grandparents in Marion, IN.  I loved their old house, and I would lie on the bed in the back bedroom with the windows open, and just listen to the doves.  Doves come visit at my very favorite parts of the day – in the early morning and at dusk -- my calmest parts of my day – before I’m revved up, and when I’m ready to kick back.   Their calls can impact my emotions.  They say.  “peace”, and invariably after I hear a dove cooing, that is what I feel.

The sound of my husband talking to my daughters downstairs when I’m upstairs is right up there with doves in terms of making me feel calm and happy.  There is nothing to me like that sound.   Tom  has this slow deep southern drawl.  When he would read books to the kids when they were little, I would  curl up and listen too.  His voice was like a caress at those times, and it had a magical way of making the kids relax.  He takes on that voice when he talks to the kids even now - interested, understanding, caring.  They respond in a quiet introspective manner - really examining and  sharing their thoughts.  The sound of  my normal conversations with the girls would be very different if someone listened - faster pace, more energetic, lighter -  talking about everyday things in their lives, with playful banter.   Since Tom is only home a few days a week, his interaction is special – slow - deep - important – heartfelt.   I treasure that sound, and I will often delay joining the conversation so I can prolong the feeling.

I love the obvious sounds of the waves crashing, horns blowing in the city, the echoes across a lake of people having fun, children laughing,  the announcers, bands and cheers at a sporting event.  They calm, energize and just give me a general sense of happiness.

Of course music is a sound we all love – all of our old favorite songs that immediately whisk us back in time to that very moment – that very specific emotional memory.   It’s usually 70”s-80’s music when I clean or do menial tasks around the house.  I can be dragging my feet, procrastinating  -- then I turn on music, and I start to work. I love most genres of  music,  but when I have to be productive, I gravitate toward classic rock: Journey, Foreigner, Supertramp, Styx, Eagles, to name a few.  Cooking is reserved for the crooners and jazz: Diana Krall, Rod Stewart doing the classics, Michael Buble’, Boney James, Miles Davis,  Coldplay.  And of course anything by my man Burt Bacharach is included on every single playlist except  my workout playlist.  That is  straight up fast and intense, with  my favorite work out song being Motley Crue's "Goin out Swingin".   The sound of music creates a mood which then translates into action - think Marvin Gaye or Luther...

We all have specific songs that take us back – make us feel something --  happy, sad, and what I call happy/sad.    There are tons of songs that make me remember specific times in my life, but some stand out more than others.   The primary ones that remind me most of my childhood would be  “A House is Not a Home” and  “One Less Bell to Answer” by Burt Bacharach.  I remember waking up on Saturday mornings in our new apt, in Indianapolis after my parents were divorced (I was 5), and hearing my mom vacuuming and singing along to these.  These songs make me a little sad, but they also bring on a feeling of comfort - of home.  My mom loved Burt Bacharach first, and that is when I too fell in love with him and have stayed true for 43 years.   California Dreamin by the Mamas and the Papas always makes me laugh because  I used to think it said  “All the Lisa Brown” instead of “Leaves are brown”.  Of course that didn’t make any sense, but I was convinced for several years that my name was in this song!  Ha-ha   Then there is the Beatles' “Here Comes the Sun”.  My dad would sing that to me  when I visited.  That one makes me happy/sad.   I call “Have I told you lately that I love you” by Rod Stewart my “divorce song” – since I realized that my now ex-husband hadn’t – and it clicked.  Of course anything by Barney or Joe Scruggs reminds me of when the kids were little and propels me back to the happiest memories of my life.   My husband sang "Lady in Red" as I walked past him at a meeting years before we were dating (I should have known I was in trouble....), and I  can’t hear anything by Barry White without immediately associating it with Tom - his signature song being "You're the First, the Last, My Everything".

Then finally there are the sounds of Freedom…  Living here so close to Camp Lejeune we have fighter jets, carrier planes, helicopters, etc. flying over at all times,  along with  practice bombs being set off on the barrier islands.  These sounds used to bother me – make me nervous.  Now I hear them and I feel a blanket of security cover me.  I love knowing that our wonderful service men and women are out there protecting us.   This is one of those deep sounds – the ones that make you think –-  think of the state of our world, the sacrifices these amazing service men and women and their families are making for our freedom.  They make you wonder about the future – our children’s future - and to hope.    

So, sounds are an important part of my life – of all our lives, I’m sure.  Taking the time to step back and listen – and feel - is important to me.  I hope we all take this time and think about our  favorite sounds and what they mean to us…   Sounds are personal -- they evoke different feelings in different people.  I bet many are the same, and some may surprise us, but they all leave an impression.

Benevolence or Malevolence - Our Choice....

 I think most of us likes to believe that we are benevolent souls.  Looking to help others – doing what’s right.  I gravitate toward stories of people who did good deeds, really good people who selflessly give of themselves or their money to those in need – for no reason other than it’s the right thing to do.  Not the big things – the everyday little things.  Things that no one else would know they did. They just do them because they are good.  People like that remind us to be good ourselves.

 My daughter Lauryn  played volleyball with a girl from her school in Raleigh.  I was commenting on what a nice girl she was, and Lauryn said  “Mom, she is such a good person – a really good person.”  Then she went on to tell me how she put together little bags of items needed for the homeless people on the corner – things such as socks,  little snacks, etc.  She kept them in the back seat of her car, and when she would see the people at the intersections asking for money or food, she would hand them a bag.   I loved that.  She took the time to put those together; she cared that much.  She did it for no other reason than because it was kind. It wasn’t something she did because she wanted to make her resume for college look better.   She didn’t broadcast it.  The only reason Lauryn knew was because she was riding with her and asked what the bags were. She only did it because she was kind, and her act of kindness made me look at the people begging at the intersections  in a different light, - the ones  whose motives I was skeptical of.  I would hope the light would stay green so I could pass them by without having to worry about them asking for money.  I am not proud of that, but it’s true.  This  one lesson from  this 18 year old girl, changed me .  It opened my eyes not only to the probable predicament of the people on the corner, but also to myself.  I mean really- what is wrong with me?  Why would I, who has so much, relatively speaking, just pass them by?  So I started stopping – and giving -- – I stop every time now,  and I give them what I can– sometimes it’s a dollar – sometimes $5 .  But I stop…because whatever their circumstances, they were there on the corner.  They were there for hours – in the rain, in the cold – never aggressive – just hoping we would stop and help a little.  So even if some of them aren’t  “for real” (like the person with the drugged cat “sleeping” on his shoulder), I will give them the benefit of the doubt, because I don’t want  to be that person who is skeptical of other people’s motives all the time….

  Last weekend my daughter and her friend and I were going to the mall and we passed one of the corner beggars.  I asked Lauryn to go into my purse to grab some money.  She was struggling to find some (for those of you who have seen my purse – you’ll understand).  Finally she came up with a single dollar just as the light turned green and people started to go.  I rolled my window down and the man came limping over as fast as he could.  We were holding up traffic, and people were getting pissy.  I apologized for it just being a dollar – and he smiled – and his eyes lit up.  His eyes –they pierced my heart -  they were so thankful – so appreciative – just for that one dollar.  It hit me hard – and as I drove away I started to cry – who knows why – could certainly have been my erratic hormones – I mean seriously, what is WITH these hormones??  But I really think it was because of his eyes. That man touched my heart because he was so appreciative of that one small act of kindness – of someone not scowling at him or pretending he wasn’t there,  but helping him – actually looking at him when I gave him the dollar. It made me wonder if this was the first time I have ever really looked anyone in the eye when I gave - I wonder. 

I understand that I may sound naïve, but I like myself better when I give someone the benefit of the doubt than I do when I don’t.  Yes, I get burned,  everyone who trusts does sometimes, but  what's the option?  Don't care - don't give?  Some of these people were like us, and just lost it all.  We don’t know the stories of these people, but we often judge.  How come?  My friend Laurie gets this.  She and her husband were in Philadelphia on business, and I had a chance to see them. We were talking about our encounters with the homeless in Philadelphia, and she told me how she and her husband were approached by a homeless person for money.  Laurie didn’t have any cash, so she said they'd walk with the man to get him something to eat at the food court.  He wanted Chinese…so they ordered him the Chinese meal of his choice, but when she went to pay they said they didn’t accept credit cards.  Well, most people would apologize to the homeless person feeling bad about it --- maybe  digging in their purse for any spare change, or telling them they’d look for them the next day.  I would have.  But not Laurie – she told him to wait, and found an ATM machine, got money right there on the spot, and made sure that man had a meal.  To me, that was a true sign of Laurie’s character ; she was determined to help that person.  She made a commitment, and she was going to stick with it, and of course, her husband was right there with her supporting the decision.  Some people may say that you shouldn’t do this because the person could steal from you, and I agree – you have to use judgement.  I won't give if someone is aggressive, and there are some “sketchy” homeless people in Italy who have approached my daughter and her friends, and I completely agree with their decision to keep a distance…  But if you feel you are safe and it’s legit,  then why not spare a little if you can?  

Then there’s the person who returned Lauryn’s wallet recently without a note attached.  They paid the $5 postage and bought a padded envelope to keep the wallet safe, just out of the goodness of their heart.   Because it was the right thing to do. That is what benevolence means to me.  Being good because you know it’s right, because you want to, because you are…  I think there are more people like that in this world.  It just takes a moment for us to take time….strip ourselves of our pessimism – and be open to good intent. 

So I sometimes wonder why so much attention is paid to negativity when there is so much good.  When we are surrounded by good,  it makes us want to be better – not pollyannas, but better.  So why do we gravitate to negativity?.   Why the people who spread gossip or want to revel in other’s misfortune lead the conversations so often?   It’s like the book “The Help” so many of us have read.  There are “Hilly Holbrooks” in every single town – not just in the South -  and they're not just women - leading their various social circles, often with malice.  They gossip, pass judgement and cause drama, and the people around them allow it to happen – and support it -  even if they don’t necessarily agree. These people are powerful because their “friends” become  afraid of them – afraid to become the next victim of their malice if they don't go along.  I wonder why, when people really are inherently good, they take part in this.  Didn't we learn anything from high school?  It really is never a good thing. Why do we feel a sense of “excitement” when we talk about someone else in a negative way.  We’re all guilty of it – I certainly am – but I will say I feel like a jerk after I do it,   and I think others do too.   Just last night we were said something negative about someone, and my friend's son backed the person - shrugging  and saying, "He's nice; I like him."  How cool was that?   It stopped us - right then and there.  Made us reevaluate what we were saying.   That's the thing - when someone points it out - you often realize what you've done.  So – I’m trying.  I’m trying to be better – to remember when I hear or say something negative  about someone  or their circumstances,  that it’s not really nice - it's not funny. That I shouldn’t do it, and I shouldn’t participate, and it is not the person I want to be or have my children see – or imitate.  I don’t want to give the “Hilly Holbrooks” of the world the power to hurt others – to make themselves more powerful by casting judgement on others.  So maybe if I keep thinking this when I hear it – not to participate – to stop myself or remind others to “be nice”, that slowly it will have a ripple effect.   It’s work in progress for sure, but– I’m trying.

 I don’t know why I decided to write about this.  Maybe because if I put it in writing, it will make me stay aware  - make me keep it up or change– and maybe others too.   Make us all take a closer,  more honest look at our own behavior.  Are we true to what we want to be?  Do we accept others, even if they aren't like us?  Do we treat others as we'd like to be treated - how we'd like our kids to be treated?  To remember that people are basically good.  We all slip up sometimes, but basically, we’re pretty darn good - we just need reminders sometimes.  So I like these stories…examples of what I want to be and what I don’t want to be. They make me think.  I want to live that way everyday.  I want this to be something I am.  I don’t want to pass by people in need on the street thinking they are annoyances, and I don’t want to gossip or pass judgement unfairly.  I want to be a better person – so I’m trying, and I’ll keep trying, and if everyone does – then that's  good….right?