Noise

I'll admit it--I have a thing about noise. Which is funny for a person who edits, and, therefore, listens to video clips over and over, loud enough to judge sound quality. When I edit at home, my husband says he doesn't know how I can stand it. And yet, I can.

For years, though, when I have come home from a day of work, either in editing or in production, I find myself overwhelmed by the noises--big and small--of of my very own living space. Whether it's piano practice or post-dinner impromptu kid performances, bickering children, or a telephone solicitor causing the phone to ring, to me, it's noise. Some people walk in the door and turn on the TV for company and sound. I turn it off for quiet.

I try to understand, really I do. I mean, kids are supposed to make noise--this is not the Victorian era. And if you have a piano in your apartment, better for it to be played than to be used as a clothing rack. The telephone solicitors, well, we'll leave them out of this. The trick, it seems, is to find the moments of quiet in the midst of all the noise. And not just literal quiet, but figurative quiet (as in not negotiating every argument) as well. So, whether it's escaping to an empty room (though people small and large always seem to follow me), or just changing my focus so that I don't have to engage in every conflict, I find ways to shut out noise, keeping life a bit more peaceful for myself, and probably a lot more functional for everyone else. I don't deny anyone a little noisemaking (okay, I have been known to insist on lower video game volume). I just create ways to separate from the noise and find my own quiet. It's like most everything in life--what you get is largely about what you carve out for yourself.

I am grateful to work in a field that is not full of quiet cubicles all day. I have carved out a life in a field full of noise. And it's up to me to find the moments of quiet to balance it out.