Did You Hear That?

So often, well intentioned friends, family, or even complete strangers will ask me if I heard that or will tell me that my hearing has improved because I lost might sight. Funnily enough, proponents of my supposed, super-hearing often tell those around me how I am blind so my ears are so much better than theirs as if, you guessed it, I can’t hear them.

Especially with my sight loss occurring later in life, my sense of hearing did not improve when the world around me went dark. The size of my ears did not change, my eardrums did not get bigger and I did not grow new fibers in my ear canals to help me hear.

A miraculous, biological compensation has not yet occurred and I do not expect one to. However, learning to listen to the feedback from the world around me is a skill that will need to be honed for the rest of my life.

“Hear that?” I asked my mother as we were leaving the restaurant. “We just walked from carpet to cement to bricks to asphalt and they all sound and feel different.” I explained, running my long, white cane along the ground in front of me.

“Oh, wow.” She said, a bit relieved that I wasn’t going to faceplant onto the parking lot as she was walking beside me a bit worried and unsure if I needed help getting to the car.

“Yup! I am probably more aware of the ground underneath my feet than you are.” I half-jokingly told her as I cracked a smile.

As I walk, it is absolutely imperative that I actively listen to the world around me. For instance, I thoroughly enjoy an iced Americano after an early morning walk to the coffee shop with the cool, brisk winter air filling my lungs. I listen for cars driving by, fellow coffee lovers walking past me, or where I live, a small, fluffy set of paws crossing in front of me. Furthermore I am listening to the sound of my cane as it glides across the pavement, the sound of my shoes crunching along and anything else that will give me clues about the world around me. A refreshing afternoon hike can turn catastrophic if I am not listening for tumbling rocks, rustling bushes, or other people exploring the trail.

The world around us gives us so much auditory feedback if we just focus and listen. Standing on a busy street corner is a much different experience when you are not staring at your phone listening to your favorite podcast. When you take out your earbuds, you quickly realize taking another step forward may not end well.

Along those same lines, we can all get so busy, our calendars fill up so fast and our phone buzzes so often. Life gets loud and being busy is almost a trophy to some. I believe that in one way or another, in the stillness or perhaps through creation, the God of the universe is always speaking.