3 practices that changed my relationship to noise
Brainy, airy-fairy, or silly? Which would you choose?
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Dearest Reader,
Those close to me know I have a long, fraught relationship with noise—especially that made by machines and most people. (The monks’ chanting across the street is delightful, as is the sound of children playing outdoors.)
Over the decades, I’ve negotiated my way out of numerous leases—seeking relief from lawn mowers, leaf blowers, power washers, jackhammers, booming music… but also from refrigerators, traffic, or some buzz, beep, or hum that few people notice.
I’m 50 years old, and this sensitivity has become more pronounced with age. It’s also felt more intense since 2020, when I quit alcohol. I’m no longer numbing or pushing through noise-induced stress thinking, “At least there’ll be wine with dinner.”
These days, still sober but slightly less nomadic, how I manage noise is far less dramatic. For example: if I’m eating and hear a plane overhead, I’ll set down my spoon, take a deep breath, and wait. In our last home, I came to know the exact times each day when planes would pass over.
Still, there’s a threshold where relentless, uncontrollable noise breaks me—sometimes to tears, sometimes to panic. Remember that mysterious, round-the-clock thumping and screaming next door? Oh boy, did that do it.
But with milder noises, my internal practices and responses have come a long way.
Just this month—after moving to a new home in a rural area we thought would be perfectly quiet but isn’t—I discovered three new practices that are helping tremendously.
One’s airy-fairy.
One’s brainy.
One’s silly—but helping the most!
You’ll also find a bonus section on how we sometimes join our identity with our experiences—and how that might be keeping us stuck. I’m honestly nervous to share this part, but it feels super important and applies to more than just noise. I can’t wait to hear what you think in the comments.
3 practices that changed my relationship to noise
The airy-fairy one
On our first evening in our new house, around the time when people were commuting home from work, it hit me: I could hear traffic.