Why Do We Accept All the Noise in Our Lives?

My wife and I are probably going to dump our cable television service.

It all started with tax preparation. My CPA sent a tax organizer packet to help me collect 10–99 forms and related records. Tax preparation is a pain, but it’s also enlightening.

I was inspecting bank records for utility expenses when my eyes fastened on the recurring monthly expense for cable television and internet services. Granted, we have the deluxe plan, but the cost rivals a car payment.

This led to a conversation with my wife about our growing dissatisfaction with television and cable services in general.

Apart from occasional glitches and service interruptions, our biggest gripes are noise and content. Commercials are frequent, obnoxious, and louder than the programs we watch. They’re nothing more than noise, which we frequently silence.

As for content, it’s getting harder to find anything with depth and value.

Sometimes we land on a good movie, but usually, we’re clicking through re-runs, insipid reality shows, political activism masquerading as journalism, duplicative Spanish language channels, endless infomercials, and true crime programs.

Typical cable news experience

Often, we default to a local news program. Then my wife distracts herself with games on her smartphone. And I put on earbuds, grab my iPad, and scroll for a TedTalk or photography video.

Television, despite its growing expense, feels increasingly irrelevant and unenjoyable. Yet for some reason, we turn it on each night.

It’s like we’re afraid to be alone with ourselves.

Chewing gum for the eyes

My wife is a hospice nurse who works weekends. They’re long, 12-hour shifts, and she typically gets home around 8:30 PM.

My weekends consist of reading and writing during the day. I exercise, walk my dogs, visit with my son, and then retire to the living room. Invariably, while waiting for my wife to arrive, I turn on the television.

More often than not, there’s not much to watch. So it becomes a sort of background noise while I scan my iPad. But YouTube is its own kind of noise, replete with blaring ads and shallow clickbait.

Television is chewing gum for the eyes. — Frank Lloyd Wright

Then one night I did something new. I discovered the music channels on our television. I selected light, classical.

Next, I made a cup of coffee and picked up my journal to sketch and write down random thoughts. An hour passed before I realized the stunning change to my living room environment.

Where before it was the blinking television screen punctuated by noisy commercials and forgettable programming, now it was a serene and contemplative refuge. The soft classical music, the scent of good coffee, and the warm lamplight beside my journal all calmed my spirit and soothed my soul.

When my wife arrived home and discovered me doodling and sipping coffee to quiet music, she said, “Well, isn’t this relaxing.”

Relaxation.

That’s what many of us crave in this divided, frenetic, and noisy world.

Dumb, loud, depthless, and broken

If you watched the Super Bowl recently you no doubt caught the commercials. Some people enjoy the commercials more than the game.

In a way, the commercials tell us a lot about ourselves.

This year’s commercials had some sweet and poignant moments. But then there was that Google Pixel commercial. It begins elegantly with tranquil music and images. It was soothing and lovely. But then, jarringly, everything shifts to noise. Screaming, loud music, flashing images, and general discordance.

Discordance.

It describes how people and society often feel these days. Wall Street Journal essayist Peggy Noonan, in a recent piece titled “America’s Longing for Authenticity,” wrote:

The ad makers must have asked themselves: What does America want? And answered: dumb, loud, depthless, and broken. I’m here to say I’ve met America and that’s not what they want. What they want is ‘Help me live, help my kids live, help me feel something true.’

Something true.

Yes, I think a lot of us yearn to feel something true. Something that resonates with our hearts and souls.

I feel this when I read a great novel and the author has captured something true. Or a splendid movie, where the exquisite truth invites tears and the thought: Yes, I have experienced and felt this. I can relate. This is true.

Our hearts and minds long for something true, but the answer from much of today’s mass media is noise.

The ideal of calm exists in a sitting cat

We don’t have to be held hostage by noise.

We can craft a life of stillness, peace, and truth. If you yearn for a calm heart, start with your home environment.

Rediscover the healing power of quiet music and absorbing books. Add a cup of tea or coffee, a comfy chair, soft reading light, maybe a cat, and see what happens to your mood and spirit. Even better, light a candle, and see how the flickering light lowers your blood pressure.

The ideal of calm exists in a sitting cat. ― Jules Renard

If you haven’t done this in a while, or you’re addicted to the blinking lights and predatory algorithms of social media, it may take a little practice to turn off the noise and quiet your soul.

But it’ll be worth it.

Before you go

I’m John P. Weiss. I write elegant stories and essays about life. Often illustrated with my photography and artwork. For the latest, check out my free Saturday Letters here.

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This post was previously published on Medium.com.

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