Turning up the volume

A few months ago I ordered a pair of headphones. With no idea of what was to come, I imagined carrying them with me as I boarded planes, slipping them on to enjoy movies, music and then, glorious noise canceling when I wanted to sleep.

When they arrived, I set aside time to get to know this new technology, cozying up in a favorite chair and selecting a favorite album, Aja, to listen to in its entirety with my new miracle ears. I’ve listened to Aja maybe a thousand times, a favorite album with subtle intricacies I know by heart. The music began. I sat back and closed my eyes. Here were the songs I know in crystal clarity. But wait, what is that? For the first time I heard new notes, new lines, new instruments I’d not heard before. In the chamber the headphones offered, I was able to hear new music.

My headphones sit on my desk as a reminder of the day when we will travel again but more than that they serve as a reminder to pay attention. In this unprecedented time of isolation and distance, I am reminded to turn up the volume.

I step outside. Standing on the concrete stoop, I hear the neighbor’s lawnmower, the robin’s call, the squirrels’ scolding, but when I turn up the volume I hear the three cranes at the park a block away, talking with one another.

On my early morning walk I marvel at the new spring growth. Following a familiar route, I greet the flowers that are a little taller each day, the leaves that have gone from bud to tender frail strength. I listen for the push through the earth as spring returns, reminding me that there are cycles that no pandemic can change.

I talk to my friends and watch their faces on a zoom call. Bridget shares her frustration as her senior parents continue to go to the store without masks, no matter how much she begs them to stay home. I hear her voice echoing my own worries about my mom as she navigates her world. I hear the notes, like subtle members of a common chord, of worry, of love, of care, of our human connection.

And in the endless quiet, I hear my own inner voice, chiding me for not being enough of whatever on any given day. Leveling my breathing, I remind myself to listen for the voice of the good friend I must be to myself. I turn up the volume and there it is, that voice that says “we are all doing the best we can.”