What are Your Favorite Sounds?
I love the sound of birds singing, especially early in the morning. And then there’s the sound of an approaching storm when the birds pause their song, and the breeze picks up—slowly at first and then building as the sound of thunder cracks a dark sky. I also love the sound of a gentle breeze in a mountain meadow that jostles spring flowers. And there’s the sound of water either trickling through a mountain meadow or splashing its way through rocks that were strewn down a mountain ravine. But probably my favorite sound in all the world is laughter.
Kids’ laughter is especially pleasing. Whether they’re giggling about their secrets or celebrating a moment of excitement, kids’ laughter seldom comes at the expense of another human being. It seldom emanates from a sense of disgust or disdain. It’s more like a celebration of life, of hope, and of the sheer delight or surprise at some simple event. It’s also frequently accompanied by excited chatter.
Just the other day as I was grocery shopping at our local Safeway, I saw two kids—a boy and a girl—walking with their father. Dad was obviously looking for some food item while trying to give appropriate attention to what his young shopping partners were sharing. Their words were flowing like that mountain stream, not the one through the meadow but the one pounding down that rocky ravine. While they didn’t interrupt one another, it was nearly impossible to know which voice belonged to whom. It was as if they were accustomed to vying for the floor, perhaps especially when they had their dad’s ear.
This little exchange between a father and his kids reminded me of Maya Angelou’s proposition that, “Words mean more than what is set down on paper. It takes the human voice to infuse them with shades of deeper meaning.”1 In this case, their dad’s role was simple. He didn’t need to hear their every word, and he certainly needed little more response than, “Oh my,” or “Really?” His laughter, which joined seamlessly with theirs, was his acknowledgement of the meaning behind their words. Their voices were being heard. He was happy to be with them. I think he may have also recognized that in a few short years these two offspring would more likely be sharing their laughter with friends rather than with mom or dad.
The author, Christopher Moore, once said that “Children see magic because they look for it.”2 What happens to that magic as we age? Do we quit looking for it? It seems as though life’s worries and obligations grab us by the throat, choking the laughter so often that it suffocates. How often have you experienced a half-hearted acknowledgement for attempted humor during an “adult” conversation? And God forbid you should try to be funny during a meeting. Humor in the adult world is reserved for an opening or closing remark. It’s usually planned or even rehearsed. It lacks spontaneity and the fresh feel of innocence.
What is my favorite sound? It’s the spontaneous laughter of kids discovering the very wonder of life itself. That laughter reminds me that life’s smallest moments are filled with possibilities waiting to be discovered, waiting to be celebrated. It reminds me of the many little moments I’ve overlooked in my life because I was focused on a “big” goal or deadline. So, I think I’ll continue to eaves drop on kids, listening for that rumble of laughter that rekindles my sense of wonder. And I’ll celebrate the magic of life’s little moments.
1 Angelou, M. (1969) I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings. New York: Random House.
2 Moore, C. (2004) Lamb: the gospel according to Biff, Christ’s childhood pal. New York, Perennial.