Sounds & Safety in Solitude

         

Due to the frequency with which I can be found sitting alone (in silence) on Wheaton’s campus, it may be surprising for some individuals to learn that moments of complete noiselessness can (occasionally) feel uncomfortable to me. While often I’m quite content providing myself with peaceful moments of relative/partial quietness, it’s usually the case that the presence of background noise(s) tend(s) to act as a sort of accompaniment (to me). This unconscious preference isn’t something I’ve just now recognized; it’s always been the case that I possess an affinity for white noise in some capacity. For instance, during moments where I am left home alone (or at the very least, with my pets as my only form of company), I have a tendency to switch my living-room TV on to a random movie or series (usually cartoons for my dog to enjoy), while I go about doing some other activities in another part of the house (like school-work, for example). I find that this act helps me to feel a certain sense of safety and comfort in my momentarily isolated environment. Granted, much of this habit (along with the perceived comfort it provides) probably stems from lessons my mother taught me early on in my developmental stages of life. In the past (and even now), my mom has often instructed me to take precautions against potential burglaries/break-ins. For instance, one of the lessons/tricks that she has instilled into me has been to leave one of our TVs on in the house almost every time we depart from it (briefly) without any supervision, so that people don’t think the house is abandoned, and therefore, easy to rob. When grappling with figuring out the intended effect(s) of this maneuver, just think of the scene in Home Alone where Kevin stages a fake Christmas party with cardboard cutouts (and loud music) to ensure that Harry and Marv don’t feel bold enough to go through with their plans to break in. Even in the cases when I’m entrusted to hold down the fort by myself, I find that having some sort of noise (which can be heard a little bit by neighbors walking by outside) can prove to be a form of reassurance in my overall safety, as people may perceive there being a bigger crowd in charge of (and by proxy, present within) the homestead.

This image belongs to 20th Century Fox from Home Alone (1990)!! 

This inclination of mine reminded me of a passage presented within Women, the Recited Qur’an, and Islamic Music in Indonesia about Islamic practitioners'  (especially those from Indonesian backgrounds) views on silence. As said by Anne Rasmussen:

“In his article ‘Interpreting Electronic Sound Technology in the Contemporary Javanese Soundscape,’ R. Anderson Sutton defines the Indonesian notion of ramai as ‘busy, noisy, congested, and tangled’ (1996a, 258). ‘Whereas Westerners often seek out silence,’ Sutton explains, emptiness, in the Indonesian, and particularly Javanese, context represents ‘vulnerability to the spirit world, which is ever waiting to catch human beings unaware” (Rasmussen 68–70).

While my concern isn’t, in this particular instance, with my closeness to any (potential) spirits, I can understand how sitting in complete and total silence can make one feel a certain sense of vulnerability. Making sure the TV is turned on when I’m alone in my home isn’t the only thing I do to comfort myself in times of independence. I also (occasionally) use an old record player from my grandmother to listen to some of my favorite albums (like Jeff Buckley’s Grace , the Crane Wives’ Foxlore, Tears for Fears’ hits and more); this practice, due to the proximity of the machine to my normal work-space, is primarily an activity that I practice when I’m not intendant on dedicating all my focus to homework (unfortunately, songs with lyrics distract me too much). With this last point about the distractive quality of song lyrics having been made, however, I find that white noise as a form of comforting background music is a totally different beast. 

My Dog (Millie) watching cartoons (specifically SpongeBob)! 

Oftentimes, when working on essays, I’ll take a moment to find long-form videos on my phone of rain or ocean noises. While I was originally against this sort of routine in my high school years, I now struggle a bit to remain engaged with my (written) assignments when left without any sort of hushed noises. Not only have I found that white noise assists in moments where I intentionally/purposefully queue forms of it up, but I’ve also noticed that there are even points where I don’t intentionally listen to said background noise, but I’m still comforted by different (unconventional) forms of it. For example, I recently saved a betta fish from Petco, and by proxy, had to buy all of the tank equipment necessary to ensure said creature could thrive in the right conditions (heat, space and water condition wise). One of the pieces of equipment I had to purchase was a small water filter. One aspect of this device is that it tends to make soft  cascading (water) noises while it accomplishes its assigned task. While I have specified above that this device isn’t inherently loud in nature, it can have a tendency to be actually quite noticeable during the nightly hours when no other noises are predominant. Whereas my brain once would imagine/auditorily-hallucinate noises resembling footsteps at night (which would panic me into thinking there was an intruder in my home), it’s now apparent that it no longer torments me in this way. Whether I can thank the filter’s constant noises for this development or not, I can’t really say for certain. However, I’m willing to take a guess that sound plays an important role in helping me remain tranquil instead of defaulting to being on-edge.