Call and Response

Maybe because I’ve been at home so much during the pandemic these past two years – home being a somewhat controlled environment –  I have noticed a new tick: I have become far more sensitive to noise.

Have you noticed how much sound comes out of our devices – those things that ring, beep and buzz? How commercials are so much louder than programs? How a doorbell ringing can make you jump?

On social media, the chatty exchanges read like yelling. News headlines, too. And in politics … I won’t even go there.

Out and about, I hear the honking in traffic and the background music at my local Walgreens or Target.

It’s bitter and sweet, this noise. On one hand, the hustle and bustle is a welcome reminder that we are carrying on, that there’s energy to life. But there are many more moments when it feels like an inhale without an exhale. A wave rolling in that doesn’t roll out.

What I think we’re missing is sound followed by response. The sense of a conversation that starts here and ends there.

First you speak. I hear and reflect. Then I speak. You listen and reflect. Then you speak.

Like that.

I’m grateful for the people in my close circle with whom I can have these conversations. But I don’t think this is happening on a larger scale.

The Jewish festival of Purim also begins this month. It is, by design, a very noisy holiday, commemorating the moment when the Jewish people were saved by Queen Esther from slaughter by an evil court official named Haman. At every mention of his name, the gathered shake their noise makers, feast on food, drink and make merriment.

It’s a time of tension and conflict and noise is a natural response to these. It’s our voice when we are hurting, drawing attention to an emergency.

But making noise without listening is dangerous. If we get out of practice in listening, all there will be is noise making. Which is how everything sounds to me right now.

Like a collective cry.

I’ve never much liked Purim. It was my least favorite holiday to teach to fifth graders when I taught religious school – so much fussing over costumes above the din! But while we are asked to make a racket when Haman’s name is spoken during the reading of the Book of Esther –  the Megillah – we are also asked to listen. If we blink or turn our attention to something else, we’d miss it and the whole point.

Purim is a reminder about the value in returning and celebrating, made manifest through call and response.

I yearn to turn noise-making to meaning-making.

Something to keep in mind as we leave our homes more frequently in the coming months and reenter our noisy lives.

Photo by Michael Dziedzic/Unsplash

 

Coming Up

“Making Art from Life: Writing Personal Narrative for Legacy, Publication or Discovery.” Skokie Public Library. April 6, 2022. 6- 7:30 pm.

“Writing Wrongs.” Lighthouse Lit Fest. Single session, online. Tuesday, June 14, 2:30-4:30 (CT).



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Returning, Remembering & Retelling

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The Tooth of the Matter