The Sound of Silence

I’m typing this with one of my ears heavily waxed. I am given to understand that this is not like having your legs waxed, but an experience that lasts much longer in time with quite different outcomes.

I expect that this situation will last a few very annoying weeks when I visit a medical guru who will get out their ‘dewaxing gun’ and make my hearing all better again.

But in every ‘adversity’ (and really it’s not a life-threatening ailment no matter how much of a ‘woosey boy patient’ I want to play) there are valuable lessons to be learnt.

There are countless people in our community who live ‘deafness’ as a part of their everyday, humdrum, routine life. Some live with hearing aids, some have learnt to ‘sign’, and some have devised other tricks to help them survive. It is highly likely that I have spoken to and listened to many such people. Perhaps dear reader you are one of them.

Hear then I must say a hearty and heartfelt sorry for it is inevitable that I have not listened and been as patient and as understanding as I should have. I have more sympathy for you now than in the past and while I hope that my situation is resolved swiftly, your condition may well be permanent. If I have misjudged, misinterpreted and not been as patient as I would have, could have, should have, then know that I will try to do better and go more like a glacier in my judgment and decision-making.

On retreat I savour silence. There the sound of silence is delicious and much-needed. This sound of silence is not nearly as much fun, but I take to heart and into my life, the noisy lessons it has thrummed into me.